“You never wanted more than that?”
“After what I lived through, it had no appeal for me. When I thought about a wife and children, it was only for the title that I considered it at all.” And then Belle came along with all her softness, and he felt himself soften around her.
“And me?” She watched him past a fall of her hair. “Why the exception for me?”
“I already told you. You were mine from the moment I looked at you.” He pushed her hair back and then wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. Whenever he said or thought the word mine, his possessive tendencies took over. He pulled her closer.
“We can be seen,” she whispered.
He paused and looked up. Johnathan was at the cliff. When Oliver caught his eyes, the boy moved away.
Belle laughed. “It’s too late. You’ve ruined me.”
“Well, if that is the case...” He leaned in.
She pulled away. Her skin was flushed. He thought her aroused. Her voice shook. “We should go back and make sure Johnathan says nothing to the others.”
He took her hands and helped her up. “And if he does?”
She slipped her hands from his and began to pin her hair back in place. “Though I would love nothing more than to be your wife…” She paused, and Oliver used that moment to soak in her words. “But I want all of you, including your trust.” She placed a hand on his chest.
They walked side by side back to the others.
The boys were working on their shelters. They’d slept under the stars once more last night. The plan was to continue construction and then there would be a treasure hunt.
Oliver had had footmen bury a few things on his land. He’d break the boys off into groups. Each group would have to find their prize on their own. They’d use the navigation tools he’d spoken about yesterday on their way to camp.
Belle said, “Don’t frighten him,” right before she went for the caves.
Johnathan had trouble meeting his eyes as he approached. Oliver had no intention of frightening the boy. What was the point? Everyone had seen him walk away with Belle. The boys weren’t stupid by any means. By spending time with Belle, they’d believe them to be courting, but he wouldn’t allow gossip about her.
Johnathan was holding a thick branch for another boy tying a rod to the base structure rod they’d erected yesterday.
“Come with me,” he told Johnathan once the branch was in place.
They hardly stepped away from the others before Johnathan said, “I didn’t see anything.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He smiled. “We’ve got to protect Lady Belle’s reputation. I’ll be better about it myself.”
Johnathan nodded in understanding.
“How are you?” Oliver sat on a nearby rock so his face would be leveled with the boy. “Anyone giving you any trouble?”
Something that looked close to guilt crept into the young man’s features, but he shook his head.
Oliver narrowed his eyes. “You’d tell me if someone was bothering you, wouldn’t you?”
The boy’s eyes flashed, and Oliver realized he might have added too much steel to his voice. “I want you to feel safe. The safety of you boys is important to me. If anyone is making you feel unsafe, you need to tell me.”
“No one gives me any trouble,” he said. “A few of the others laughed at me for crying at the inn, but no one is doing it anymore. I showed them the sack.”
“The sack?”
“From the robbers. Lord Landcastle gave it to me. He said I could keep it until I wasn’t afraid of what happened anymore.”
The sack would likely be a prize to the other boys, something that signified what they’d lived through. It was a wise move for Landcastle to give it to Johnathan. He wondered if one of the boys had been after the sack the other day. He wanted to ask Johnathan if he suspected someone of untying his knapsack the other day and perhaps that was the reason the kettle came undone.
But he didn’t want to give his suspicion to anyone else. He didn’t want Johnathan to worry about it. He’d speak to Clive about it though, since Clive would be with Johnathan today.
When Johnathan left, he called Clive over.
“I saw Landcastle give him the sack. I didn’t know Johnathan kept it,” Clive said. “The authorities probably would have liked it for evidence. It surprises me that he didn’t just hand it over to the constable. Cass says he’s very strict about the law.”
Oliver looked over at the earl, who was helping to hold up one of the structures. “Perhaps our earl has a softer side.”
Or perhaps…
He pushed the inkling feeling of suspicion away. Landcastle was a good man. He’d not allow doubt to creep in as it usually did.
∫ ∫ ∫
5 0
* * *
Belle was sitting at the edge of her cave when Oliver approached. Rocks had been placed on one side of the entrance, and she had a feeling she knew how they’d gotten there.
Oliver sat down next to her and handed her breakfast. Hard bread. Dried meat. Water to wash it down.
“How do you live off of this?” she asked.
He smiled. “It keeps me alive long enough to see the next day, which is all that mattered.”
The next day.
She thought about those words as she tried to be as ladylike as possible while she ripped into the meat. What kind of meat was this? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
The boys sat by the fire, each comparing their structures to the others. There were different styles to them all. Some leaned on trees; some were anchored by boulders. A few were built with nothing more than their own weight to keep them up. It was a little competitive, but it was fine.
“Tell me about your childhood,” she said to him. “I want to know about the early years.”
Oliver drank some water and sighed. “I’ve been thinking about that recently. My father wasn’t always the tyrant he became, but it grew worse each time my mother carried. I remember her praying for a daughter. She hoped a girl would settle him, but then Leo came and then Nick.”
“Tell me something good about your father.”
“Why?” He gave her a strong look. “It doesn’t excuse the ugliness I survived.”
She remembered the last day they spend on his property, when she’d followed him out to the sea. “You said killing Gregory’s enemies wouldn’t be the first time you’d killed. How old were you when you first took a life?”
Oliver shrugged and looked away. “Young. Ten perhaps. It was a long time ago.”
She stiffened. She hadn’t known that. She’d thought him much older than that. Eighteen or even twenty, not that the age would make the act any better.
But then she remembered the fights. “Was it during a fight?”
Oliver shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Did your father make you do it?”
His tone was harsh. “Belle, stop.”
She did. Her body trembled, and her eyes burned. She felt deep pain for the boy he’d been. If only she’d been there to protect him. If only someone had stood up for him.
He said nothing. She doubted he would share that story with her, but perhaps it rested at the root of his problems.
He took a long breath and then his words were rushed. “I was ten. Someone poisoned me. I remember the pain. I thought I would die, but I didn’t. Then my father told me who’d done it and pushed me to do it. He told me it was the right thing to do, the only right thing to do. He said the boy would likely try and kill me again if I did nothing about it. I couldn’t go to the authorities and my father refused to handle it for me. ‘What if Papa isn’t there next time?’ he said. ‘What if it’s just you and Nicholas alone?’”
“Nicholas?” she whispered.
Oliver looked at her. “That was the other boy’s name. Nicholas.”
Her heart raced. “Your father named your brother after a boy who’d poisoned you?”
&nb
sp; Oliver looked pained. “To this day, I’m not even sure the other boy actually did it. I’m inclined to believe it was my father, but he would never admit to it. Don’t tell Nick that he was named after someone I was supposed to hate. My father thought it would pit me against my brother, but it didn’t. Nicholas was born two months after I killed the other.”
He stood and walked over to the boys. “Tidy after yourselves and let’s move on.” He was done with the story.
Belle ached and thought to skip the rest of the day, to simply hide in the cave, but Oliver wasn’t hiding from the story, so she couldn’t either. If he’d born the pain, she would have to find the strength to do it.
She was dazed for a long time after that, walking and talking without account of what was taking place. She wore a smile for the sake of the boys, but her mind could not stop imagining the pain Oliver had gone through.
And poor Nicholas.
Oliver never said his father’s name, but last evening, Lady Serveck had called the former Lord Venmont Nardo. Was his real name Leonard? How had the middle son earned the father’s name? Had he wanted Oliver to hate his middle brother as well?
She thought of all of these things as she went through the motions.
She was placed with the group that included Johnathan, the endless talker, who might have held her hand if there were no one to call him a baby for the action, the ever broody Ward, and the wise Spencer, who’d taken charge of the group the moment Oliver had given them the assignment.
No one else fought him for the role. He’d been catching on to things much faster than the others. His shelter seemed the sturdiest and as they all stood around waiting for the sun to move and give us the direction north, they listened to Spencer as he read from a book Oliver had given him at the house.
The book was one of the many journals written by Oliver’s brother Nicholas. It spoke about the vegetation found on the property and stated what was edible and what other uses the various plants had.
The leader of the group, Clive, seemed more tense than usual. He knew where the group was supposed to go but wasn’t allowed to give any hints or clues. He and Belle were only there to make sure no one got hurt.
Noel and Landcastle were doing the same with another group, and Oliver had taken the last with a footman.
She’d wanted to go with Oliver. She’d wanted to spend as much time as possible with him, but she understood that both needed space to reflect on every word that had been shared thus far.
She was glad he was opening up to her, but at the same time, she was anxious about how it would all end. And not just for herself but for him. She wanted to fight for his happiness and freedom from his past, but she didn’t know if she had the tools to help him.
She loved him deeply, but he was hurt. He’d been hurting for decades and was just waking up to that realization. It would take longer than a few days for him to heal.
Would she wait for him? Should she? Did she have any other choice? He was the one. She knew Shepard wanted her to move on, but her heart was set and could not be moved.
She looked at the stick that Spencer had placed in the dirt. He’d marked the ground where the shadow of the sun had started. Once the shadow moved, they would know which direction was west and could find north from there.
They not only had to find their way to their destination but also their way back.
Belle wondered what the prize would be.
Clive, who was usually a lively sort, was quiet. She noticed he was watching each boy intently. Especially Ward. Why? Was he simply taking his job of protection seriously or was it something else? There was only one way to find out.
She moved to stand next to him, and he smiled at her approach. “Why are you staring at Ward?” she whispered.
“You know what these boys have lived through,” he said. “The fights. The cages. It changes people. What you see as an innocent boy another can see as a danger.”
She frowned. “Why do you think Ward is dangerous?”
Clive jutted his head at the boy. “Look how he glances at Johnathan.”
Belle did. The gazes were quick but there. Ward was watching Johnathan. “Why is he watching him like that?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out before some trouble is caused.”
“North!” Spencer cried as he pointed.
Everyone looked down at the stick’s new shadow. It looked right to her, but again, she was not to say if it were wrong anyway.
The boys each had a chance to examine it.
“Let’s go,” Ward said, suddenly taking the lead.
They followed him the rest of the way. They were supposed to follow a map and list of instructions. They were looking for a stream. Spenser found it probably an hour later. Then from the north, they started east.
They came to a stop that looked like the drawing they’d been given. Two trees leaning away from one another as though parting for a giant.
“Shovels,” Johnathan cried.
The shovels sat under a tree and the boys got to work. It was easy to see where the chest was located. The earth had been disturbed.
It wasn’t long until they found the chest and pulled it out.
“Keep it upright,” Clive instructed. He had the key and unlocked it.
“Food!” Ross cried.
Belle was astonished by the offerings in the chest. There was chicken, still warm, with potatoes and fruits and other things the boys hadn’t had in days. Even the bread was fresh and warm.
Belle was hungrier than she thought possible. She smiled as she thought about the work Oliver had put into this adventure. When she’d imagined the boys’ time in the woods, she’d wondered if the boys would have a good time. She knew they’d be safe and leave with skills that might one day be of use, but she hadn’t expected their happiness.
Even Ward was smiling happily.
And Oliver had taken the idea of young Noel to see it done. He hadn’t even hesitated in his decision to bring them here. Did he have any idea how much compassion he had for people?
On the way back, she spoke to Johnathan. “How are you?”
“This is great! I’m glad Lord Venmont let me come. He doesn’t get mad at all when I mess up.” Then a moment later, he said, “Can I keep my rucksack in your cave?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Oliver’s compassion stayed with her all the way back. From the stories she’d heard about his father, Belle doubted there had been any compassion in Nardo.
But Nardo hadn’t always been the cruel madman he’d become. Something had changed him.
But what?
∫ ∫ ∫
5 1
* * *
Oliver watched the other two groups return at the same time as his. He’d planned it that way. Once they found their chest, it was easy to cut a straight path back. All they had to do was look toward the cliff.
His own group of boys had been talking with excitement since finding the chest and now they joined their returning friends so everyone could share their stories. Then all started construction on their shelters again without Oliver prompting them to do so.
A few of the weaker shelters needed major repairs, and he was glad when he saw the boys with the stronger shelters go over and help their friends.
Belle came into view, and his heart leaped in his chest. He’d been worried about how she would respond to his story the entire time she’d been gone. Would she hate him for what he’d done? He hated himself. He was nearly certain the other Nicholas hadn’t poisoned him.
His father had set them both up, killing one and making the other a monster. He’d wanted Oliver to be a monster, and he’d succeeded.
He watched Belle’s eyes move over the camp and felt the urge to hide. He wasn’t ready to face her scorn or, even worse, her fear. He already hated himself for the actions of his past.
Yet there was neither anger nor freight in her eyes. Only compassion. In fact, her eyes softened and her lips turned up into a
generous smile.
He was standing by the entrance to the cave, so she was forced to come to him. He remained rooted and still in place even as his arms ached to reach out for her as she got closer.
He took in her appearance at her approach. “You look tired.”
She sighed heavily. “I am.” She looked back at the boys and then at him. “They had fun.”
“I can tell.”
“I don’t know where they get the energy to work right now. They dug up the chest and now they’re building little houses.”
“They’re young.”
She nodded. “Much younger than you and I.”
“Not you by so much.”
Her lips fell. “I’m thirty, more than a decade older than most of them.”
And he was a decade older than her. “You don’t look it.”
She smiled again. “Is that a compliment I hear?”
“Just a simple observation.”
She stared silently at him, and he wondered what she was thinking. The smile still danced on her lips so he didn’t think she was upset. He wanted to remind her that he’d never hurt her and that no one could turn him against her as his father did with the young Nicholas.
But then he realized those were his own suspicions. Absolutely nothing about her expression said she feared him.
She trusted him. She’d told him she needed to trust him and he understood why. There had been far too much betrayal in her past. When she’d looked for someone worthy all those years ago, she’d turned to him and still clung to him.
It was troubling and humbling.
“You’re very good at this wilderness training you’re doing,” she said. “You know, Oliver, if I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you’ve done this before.”
He stiffened. She was closer to the truth than she realized.
She narrowed her gaze, and he thought she would ask more. Then he waited for her to bring up their discussion from earlier. He waited for the questions to come, but they didn’t.
Instead, she moved back the sheet that blocked the entrance to the cave and said, “I think I’ll rest until later. Will you come back tonight?”
The Marquess Who Kissed Me: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 26