The Marquess Who Kissed Me: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

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  4 0

  * * *

  Belle cringed as her injured body was jerked with every hurried step of the man who’d picked her up, believing he was carrying her off to safety.

  If only he knew she was the real danger.

  Her body felt as though it were broken in every place, but her assailants had left her head unharmed, just as Gregory had instructed. Her beauty remained intact, but she was also alert and aware of her surroundings. If her muscles didn’t ache from the beating she’d received, she may have been able to concentrate on the strength of the man who held her and the earthy scent in his clothes.

  He held her gently but fear still drummed through her. She didn’t know the Marquess of Venmont, but anyone Gregory wanted had to be dangerous.

  The world was dark, but Venmont moved with surety through his woods. Did the marquess possess the vision of the night predators that usually lurked in the shadowed forest?

  She shivered at the thought.

  “Are you awake?” His voice was rough. Terrifying. She’d pretended to be asleep when he’d picked her up almost an hour ago. Would he walk her the entire way to his house?

  They were going up an incline. What sort of man possessed that sort of strength?

  One who would snap her neck if he ever learned the truth.

  She couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “I know you’re awake,” he said. “You keep tensing. Am I hurting you?”

  Belle cleared her throat. “A little.” But she wanted out of the dark more than anything else.

  She feared the dark.

  “I would stop, but I don’t know how badly you’ve been hurt. Can you tell me what happened?” He wasn’t even out of breath. How was that possible?

  She cleared her throat again. This would be her first of many lies. “I was traveling with my father when we were overtaken by highwaymen.”

  “What happened to your father?”

  He’d abandoned her a long time ago actually. Her father could hardly look at her now. He hadn’t been in the carriage with her. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone anywhere together. She’d served her purpose in his eyes. Her body in exchange for his debts.

  But she could never tell this man that. Instead, she said, “I don’t know.” She cried out as he broke his own door down and rushed her into the drawing-room where a fire crackled in the hearth.

  He placed her down on the couch, and she got her first good look at him. The sun had been setting when he’d arrived and she’d had to play sleep at first. She’d only seen glimpses of his chin after that. But now…

  She’d have mistaken him for some strange forest beast were it not for the fact that he’d spoken to her. A red beard covered most of his face. His blue eyes were piercing.

  He crouched over her. “Someone bring me water and bandages.”

  She jumped at his shout. Only then did she notice the shadows that stood by the wall. Servants had come to see what their master had brought home.

  “I’m Lord Venmont,” he said finally, introducing himself. “What is your name?” He was watching her closely.

  She was nervous. If she failed, she imagined terrible things would befall her either from Gregory or the man who crowded her now. “Cebele. Lady Cebele.”

  His eyes widened. “You’re a lady.”

  Her reply was swift. “Had you thought otherwise?” She pressed her lips together and cursed herself for being so direct. She was supposed to be helpless.

  But Venmont smiled. “You’ve some strength in you. That’s good, Lady Cebele.”

  “Belle.” She didn’t want him calling her Cebele. Gregory called her Cebele.

  “What?”

  “Call me Belle.”

  The maid came with what he’d asked for. “Would you like me to see to her, my lord?”

  He shook his head. “No, that will be all, thank you.”

  Belle thought that strange. Usually, a lord would give the care of a female to a female maid.

  “I would rather tend to you myself, if you don’t mind,” he began. “I’ve done this sort of work before, on myself and my brother. I’d be able to care for your wounds better than Betty, God bless her.”

  She calmed at hearing that. “I don’t mind.”

  “Where do you hurt?” he asked.

  “Everywhere, but my back mostly.” She’d reveal the bruises in the front later.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently sat her up. Then he turned her away. His arms were large and engulfing. “I’m going to undo your dress now if that’s all right.”

  She was so used to men stripping her without asking that it felt odd to be asked. “Of course.”

  He said nothing as he undid the buttons. The fire crackled in the silence. She looked around the room and thought it rather spartan. The furniture was dark and heavy. It was all rather unattractive.

  He pulled in a breath once her dress was open. Her back likely looked terrible. He growled.

  She asked a question to distract herself. “You tend to yourself? You don’t let the servants do it?”

  She heard him do something with the water.

  “I won’t always have a servant around. It’s best I keep the practice of doing it on my own.”

  Everything he said seemed like a riddle.

  “You don’t even let your wife attend you?”

  “I have no wife.” He touched something to her back and she cried out and moved away.

  He grabbed her. “Belle.”

  Something about the way he said her name made her stop. She turned to look at him.

  His sky-blue eyes pulled her into a restful state. “I will only ever hurt you to make you feel better.”

  Belle looked around the drawing-room where Oliver had made that vow five years ago. Since then, he’d kept his word physically, but her heart ached more than she’d ever thought possible.

  “Are you all right, my lady?” Landcastle moved to stand at her side.

  “I’m all right.”

  She smiled up at him. He was more kind than she’d originally thought. He’d checked on her the other evening before she’d readied for bed. Their conversation had been short, but he’d complimented her on her bravery and that had made her happy.

  “I’m all right.”

  “You’re not worried about what happened last evening are you?” he asked. “The boys were taken in. The local constable will get to the bottom of the matter and find out who put those boys up to that terrible deed.” Landcastle was certain the boys had not acted on their own. They’d been too organized, he’d said.

  Belle sensed that all his mindful watching came into use when analyzing a situation. He was likely right. “So many children are used for the benefit of others.” She’d been one of them. “I hope the person responsible for this answers for his crime.”

  “Or hers,” Oliver said as he walked into the room. “It could be a woman.”

  “You think a woman responsible for this?” Landcastle asked.

  Oliver sat casually on the couch and threw his arms out. “Women are capable of extraordinary things.” He didn’t look at her, but Belle suspected he was talking about her.

  She hadn’t seen much of him in the last few hours. She’d ridden with Noel and a few of the other young men, changing carriages when they stopped to change horses. She wanted to see for herself that everyone was fine after last night. They, in turn, asked after her.

  Young Johnathan thanked her again for allowing them to come.

  She had realized how much the boys might enjoy something as simple as riding in a carriage or leaving the city for the first time and after what had taken place last evening, they were all anxious to learn the skills Oliver would teach. They didn’t want to live in fear anymore.

  How funny that it had been Oliver who’d taken her fears away as well.

  Standing in his foyer reminded her of a time she feared the dark. Now, she couldn’t sleep unless it was pitc
h black in a room.

  He’d done many things for her. She wondered what he would do for the young men.

  Clive walked into the room. “The staff have the boys in the back gathering their supplies. Are we heading out as planned?”

  Oliver nodded. “Just as soon as night falls.” He finally looked at Belle. “You’ll be needing supplies as well, my lady.”

  “Actually, I won’t.” She’d made her decision. “I’ll be staying here. I’m sure you men can see to everything on your own. You don’t need me getting in your way. I trust you.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 1

  * * *

  Belle was part of the way up the stairs when Oliver’s voice stopped her. “You’ll sleep in the other wing if you truly wish to stay.”

  She spun around. Her heart was racing.

  He approached her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He stopped until they were eye level.

  “What room would you have me sleep in?” She should have known he’d not allow her in his mother’s room again.

  “I’ll have a servant prepare it for you. What are you planning to do?”

  “Why do you think I’m plotting something?” she asked.

  His gaze seemed troubled. “I don’t mean it like that. I only meant, what will you do while we’re away?”

  “I don’t know.” She looked around the foyer and frowned. “Perhaps I’ll spend my time making a list of suggestions for the rooms. I know you won’t accept any of them, but it will keep me occupied—”

  “Make your list,” he said. “Perhaps I could use a suggestion or two.” His eyes softened, and Belle wondered if they were lowering their weapons and guards. It felt like they were.

  “You don’t want to join us for the meeting?” he asked. “They’re putting the boys in groups right now.”

  “I don’t need to be there. I trust you.”

  “I thought you were worried about me treating the boys as my father treated me.”

  Her cheeks burned. When she thought about how patient he’d been when she was in his care, she realized how wrong she’d been to say that. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’ll do well with them.” She knew each boy was haunted by his past. “You’re likely the best thing for them, honestly.”

  He lifted his brows in surprise. “Belle, if you’re up to something—”

  “I’m not!” She smiled. “What could I possibly have planned?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know…” But his eyes said he planned to find out. “What if I make them suspend themselves and hunt from the tops of high trees?”

  Her pulse picked up again. She crossed her hands behind her back. “I trust you.”

  He crossed his arms in the front. “And what if I make them clean their teeth with bark and jump off cliffs?”

  She blinked. “I trust you consider their safety a priority.”

  “Hm.” He narrowed his eyes. “All right. Now I’m asking. What are you plotting?”

  She sighed. “Nothing.”

  “Then why are you being so easy about this? Why aren’t you giving me a hard time like the last time you visited?”

  “Last time, I heard that Vita had been kidnapped and Remy’s nephew had been stabbed. I wasn’t myself.” She’d been full of guilt then. Vita’s kidnapper, Lord Dunst, had only been in Vita’s life because of Belle.

  “So, you’re yourself now?”

  “I am, and I’m… remembering everything that happened the first time I was here.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “I remember being afraid. I’m not anymore and that is thanks to you.”

  Oliver’s hand bumped her on the stair railing. He seemed unaware that they were touching. “You were scared last evening.”

  Her stomach turned as the scene from the table returned to her mind. “Why did you do it? Why didn’t you just give up your money and watch? Why risk yourself?”

  He shrugged. “Because it was mine, and I take care of what is mine.”

  Her belly fluttered as she stared into his eyes. Surely, he was only talking about his watch. Surely, he didn’t mean her as well. Yet he was looking at her with a familiar intensity.

  Whenever she was near him, she lost control. It was as if some invisible hand pushed her toward him. She thought he felt the same when he leaned close. His hand overlapped hers.

  “You have a package, my lord.” A footman started up the stairs.

  Oliver turned around. His motion brought Belle into view.

  The footman stopped with wide eyes. “Forgive me. I didn’t know—”

  “It’s all right.” Oliver took the package. “Thank you.”

  The footman left.

  “It doesn’t say where it came from,” Oliver said.

  Belle recognized it the moment Oliver began to untangle the twine from around it. She stopped him with a hand, and he looked up.

  “What?” he asked.

  Belle pulled in a breath. “It’s your mother’s necklace.”

  He went still. “When did you…?” His brows pinched. “You mailed it after I sent you away.”

  She swallowed. “I shouldn’t have it. It doesn’t belong to me.”

  “Yet I told you it did.” Every trace of his earlier softness left him.

  “Be honest, do you truly wish to see me in it? After everything?”

  “As though I could bear the sight of it on anyone else.” He moved up a step and stood over her. He shoved the package into her hands. “It has been yours since the moment you put it on.”

  Understanding came over her. “You mean I’ve tainted it with my whoring ways.”

  “I did not call you—”

  “You didn’t have to.” Her fingers trembled around the gift. “You never have to. I see it in your eyes.”

  “Tell me what happened with Urnish.”

  “No.” She’d leave the package in Lady Venmont’s room right where she’d found it. Knowing what Oliver thought of her soiled the memory of the moment he’d given her the necklace.

  He covered her hands with his and forced her to look up at him. “Do you trust me?”

  “With the boys.”

  His brows slashed down. “But not with you.”

  She looked around and caught Shepard’s eyes. “I’ll manage.”

  Shepard came and Oliver pulled away.

  “I would tell you to have a wonderful time in the woods, but I already know you will. It’s your favorite place in the world.

  * * *

  “Again.” Oliver braced himself as Belle came at him with the blade again. He watched her move. She looked as one with her surroundings. Her dark hair blended with the tree line. Her brown eyes glowed with a predatory vengeance.

  In a fortnight, her muscles had grown stronger. She defied what people would assume she was capable of. If she managed to catch someone off guard, she’d have a chance.

  He caught her and spun her around. Her body landed hard against his. She felt the press of her elbow at the side of his stomach. He braced for the strike, but it didn’t come.

  It never did.

  “Do it,” he told her.

  She was breathing hard. “I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He bent down to her ear. “But how will I know you’ve struck correctly if you don’t practice?”

  She pulled from his hold and turned to face him. “I can’t hurt you, Oliver.” Something flashed in her eyes. Remorse? He wasn’t sure. He’d asked her a hundred questions in the last two weeks, but still, he felt like he didn’t know her.

  She hadn’t even told him her last name or who her father was. If he left Venmont Hill, he could ask after a Lady Cebele, but leaving Venmont Hill meant leaving her and Oliver wasn’t prepared to do it just yet.

  “Pretend I’m someone else. Pretend I’m the man you hate most.”

  She scrunched her face but then relaxed. “I… can’t.” Her brown eyes begged him to stop.

  He grabbed her arms. “Who do you hate
most?”

  She turned away. “No—”

  “Who has hurt you worse than anyone else?”

  She shook her head. “Everyone hurts me! I wouldn’t know where to begin answering such a question.” Her voice echoed through the forest. Her eyes were full of tears. “Everyone hurts me.”

  “Even your father?” He’d grown suspicious about him. He wondered sometimes if she truly was a lady and not simply some well-trained lady’s maid in her mistress’ clothes.

  It didn’t matter to him. She’d been hurt, and he wanted to protect her.

  “Perhaps he’s hurt me the most.” Her voice was calm. Distant. She looked away and stared out into the woods. She was still in his hold. So light. It was as though the tension had been weighing her down and now she was empty of everything.

  And then she told him about her father and her lost childhood. She wouldn’t say the name of the man who currently owned her, but Oliver vowed he’d find out and kill him.

  “Every man I’ve ever known has hurt me but you,” she whispered in the end.

  He grabbed her close and held her.

  No more words passed between them for a long while after that. He listened to her breathing and to the steam.

  This had been his favorite place.

  Until now.

  Now all Oliver wanted to do was find Belle and make things right.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 2

  * * *

  What is wrong with me?

  Every time Oliver made up his mind to stay away from Belle, it was like something shoved him closer. He’d assume he was running in the opposite direction only to find out he’d been set to travel in the circle with Belle the eternal center point.

  She was the point of everything.

  He tried to think of all the major decisions he’d made in the last five years and searched for any that didn’t have to do with her. His career, where he lived, and even this trip with the boys had something to do with her. There was no escaping her.

  So why try?

  Because he had to. He had to resist her pull. There had to be a way to break from the cycle, but Oliver didn’t know if such a thing existed.