by Gill, Tamara
Who would be next? Her dearest Rowan? Would he be set upon and killed before her eyes too? The idea of anything happening to him made her stomach roil. She looked over her shoulder, following him about the room with her eyes. How was she ever to leave him behind? The idea left her breathless.
She swiped at her cheeks, hating her heightened emotions, but knowing she could do little about them.
"Alessa," he whispered, coming up behind her. "You are not well. I wish I could make things better for you." Her heart filled even more from his kind words.
She sniffed, turning to face him. She looked up, his shoulders blocking her view to the door. He reached out and swiped a tear from her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. "I'm sorry that you lost Marco. I can see that he meant a great deal to you."
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her eyes stung with more unshed tears, and she knew she was losing her hold on her composure. "He was my friend, and I trusted him unconditionally." She met Rowan's eyes and lost herself a moment in his kindness.
"You can trust me, Alessa."
"Can I?" she asked, unsure why she would ask such a question, but she could not take the words back now. The man was unlike anyone she had ever had assigned to her before. Argumentative, surly, when they had first met. Danger lurked around him, and she couldn't quite shake the feeling that his life had not been an easy one.
A muscle worked at his temple before he nodded. "You can trust me. No matter what. I will not allow any harm to come to you."
She hoped that was true, for she truly did wish to live, to give to those less fortunate, marry, and have children. She may be a princess, but that did not mean she did not want everything any other woman wanted in life.
"I must return to society and attend the Devonshire ball next week. It will fall upon you to ensure safe passage to and from the townhouse and that the house itself is secure. I will have my secretary smooth away any impediments to your duties." She reached out, needing to touch him. "You will need to coordinate my security to ensure they know the plan for the evening."
"Of course. I shall ensure you're kept safe, and everyone knows their duties. I will coordinate with your secretary."
She smiled, glad to have him on her side. "You may also need to work with my sister." She met his gaze, and something in his eyes made her shiver, made her stomach clench in a fluttery, strange kind of way.
He grinned. "I'm certain I shall tolerate the experience well enough."
Alessa could not let him leave without kissing him at least once. She reached up, taking his face in her hands and taking what she wanted. "I am certain you shall too."
* * *
The Devonshire ball was everything that Alessa expected from a ball held by a duke. Everything was gold-plated, jeweled, or silk-lined, the dresses and walls alike. The home was full to the brim with guests. Many of whom had become her friends these past weeks in town.
The night was a welcome reprieve from her sadness regarding the death of Marco. That she had not suffered another attempt on her life was also promising. She could only hope that the Bow Street Runners would catch the thugs soon, and she would be well rid of them.
Alessa danced three sets with gentlemen admirers, one of them the Lord Douglas. Still, every time she stepped into the gentleman's arms, she did not feel anything other than mild friendship for the fellow.
That he had not called upon Duke Sotherton, her guardian while in London, told her in turn that perhaps his lordship no longer felt romantically inclined toward her either. Which was just as well, as she had long thought of him only as a friend.
After several wines and a glass of champagne, Alessa needed to excuse herself from the ball. She sided up to Rowan, catching his attention. "I must use the retiring room," she whispered to him.
He nodded, striding out before her and clearing a path outside the ballroom. They walked down a long corridor, multiple candelabras and a thick Aubusson rug beneath her silk slippers.
Female voices grew louder as they came to the room allocated as the retiring room for the evening. "Please wait for me here," she asked him, slipping inside. There were several ladies present and three maids willing to help the ladies who needed to freshen up.
The room quietened as the ladies slowly returned to the ball, and Alessa took a moment to have a maid address her hair at an available dressing table. The feel of the maid placing her curls back into place soothed her, and she reveled in being alone and having a moment's peace.
Splintering glass shattered across her gown, the heavy thud of something heavy hitting the floor startling her. She jumped, her maid flailing backward as a large rock tumbled not a few feet from their persons.
The door to the room slammed open, hitting the wall in its ferocity. Rowan was beside her in a second. He ran his hands over her person, checking her for any injuries before striding to the window. He looked out onto the shadowy grounds, but even Alessa could see that had there been anyone lurking in the gardens, they were either long gone or completely camouflaged by the night.
He called out to someone through the broken window, and she heard footsteps running along the pavement before the thudding of boots on the lawn met her ears.
Rowan came over to her again. Forgetting the rules of etiquette or who was about, he took her face in his hands, searching for any injuries. "Did any glass hit you? Was anything else thrown into the room?" he asked her, not letting her go.
Alessa shook her head, laying her hands upon his. "No, I am well. I think the curtains halted most of the impact from the stone." She frowned, staring at the intended weapon. "How did they know that I was in this room?"
Rowan narrowed his eyes in thought. "That is a very good point." He turned to the maid at her back. "Tell me who was in here prior to the rock being thrown. I shall need to speak with every lady present."
"I shall make a list for you, sir," the young woman stated, going over to the small desk in the room, writing out her list as promised.
"They have not declared supper yet. Do you think it safe for me to return to the ball?" She hoped she could stay merely because she was too pigheaded to leave. She did not want to be frightened home or all the way back to Atharia due to a madman's deranged beliefs that her uncle shared.
"I should think it will be safe so long as you stand on the opposite side of the room to the windows." He paused, striding to the windows in the retiring room, pulling all the heavy velvet drapes closed. "Come, we must remove you from here."
He guided her back to the ballroom, and she was pleased no one appeared aware of what had happened. She did not want anyone talking about her or who was behind these attacks. London was supposed to be fun and carefree, a time to unwind after her disastrous year in Atharia.
Anger thrummed through her that her uncle had festered such hatred for them that he would defy death itself to make her pay here in England too.
They made their way over to the opposite side of the ballroom from the windows, and she leaned into him as they stood in watch of the dancers. "When a gentleman asks me to dance, the song will place me close to the windows at times. Are you comfortable with me dancing more sets or a waltz?" she asked him, willing to trust his advice since this was what he did for a living.
"I think you have danced enough this evening, Your Highness. I cannot guarantee your safety when gliding past the bank of windows on the opposite side of the room. I hope you understand."
A footman passed, and she procured another glass of wine, wanting to numb the pain of her loss and the annoyance that she could not simply be left alone. "Then I shall imbibe to overcome my disappointment and enjoy the dancing from afar." Not that she believed his excuse entirely was due to safety concerns. She had seen Rowan's disgruntled visage when she danced with others. She was not fooled enough not to recognize jealousy when she saw it.
She smiled to herself. At least that was something she could enjoy and be happy over.
Chapter 20
Later that evening, Rowan
helped Alessa step up into the carriage. He followed her into the equipage, thumping the roof of the carriage to announce they were ready to leave—the blinds drawn, eliminating anyone seeing that Alessa was the departing guest.
They had used a side entrance that led into the Cavendish's kitchen for their escape route. No further attempts were made on Alessa, but Rowan knew they would come. The rock that had been hurled into the ladies' retiring room felt like a warning to Rowan. He knew Roberto wanted him to finish what he'd agreed to. To kill Alessa, but he would not.
Now, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.
With the carriage making its way through Mayfair to Duke Sotherton's townhouse, Rowan shifted to sit beside Alessa, pulling her close to his side. He reached down, tipping her face up to look at him, wanting to take her mind off the troubles that surrounded them. "I did not get the opportunity this evening to tell you how beautiful you look, and so I am doing it now. You look so achingly pretty that you make my heart stop."
She grinned up at him, pleasure in her blue orbs, and he took the opportunity to kiss her. To revel in her touch and company while he could.
How was it that in only two short weeks she would sail back to Atharia, and he would never see her again?
His heart ached at the thought of it.
In a matter of time, she would marry and, soon after, become a mother. His stomach roiled at the thought of anyone other than himself having Alessa in such an intimate way. It had been bad enough this evening, watching her dance with so many eligible gentlemen—men of power and influence, of abundant wealth and titles to keep even a princess content.
He could give her nothing other than his love.
But that was not enough. She deserved so much more. So much better than what he could give.
She kissed him back with an ardor that left him breathless, left him wanting more. He hoisted her against him, taking her mouth in a searing kiss. He had wanted to touch her, hold her, comfort her these past days and could not. Her sister was always around, and the time was not right, not after the death of Marco.
Even so, he took what she offered. Had hated seeing her upset and sad. Had he been married to her, he could have comforted her, tried to keep her spirits high. Instead, he'd been forced to watch from afar as she struggled to get through each day.
"I have missed you so much, Rowan," she whispered against his lips.
He kissed her harder, reveling in her touch, the feel of her breasts against his chest; her quickened breath and sweet little sounds of need that she made.
Their tongues entwined, hands clasped, pulled, and sought the other. He found himself rock hard, her hand over his front falls, stroking him through his breeches. They did not have long, the carriage ride from Devonshire to Duke Sotherton's was minutes only, but he was determined to take what he could. Have her in any way and as quickly as possible if that was all the time allowed them.
He pulled her onto his lap, and she gasped, moving herself closer, seeking her pleasure. She was a marvel, and he loved that she knew what she wanted. That she was willing to demand from him her needs to get what her heart desired.
He hoisted up her gown, pooling it at her waist, and reached for her. She moaned against his mouth as he stroked her wet, needy flesh. She was ready for him, and he teased her, sliding one finger into her hot core, that contracted about his digit.
"Rowan," she gasped, ripping at his front falls. "I need you. Now," she demanded.
He did not stop her. He wanted her just as much. His cock sprang free of his breeches into her hand, and he sucked in a breath as she stroked him harder still.
"I want you too. Take your pleasure, Princess," he commanded her.
A wicked light entered her eyes, and she came over him farther, lowering herself onto his dick with achingly, tormenting slowness.
He clasped her hips, helping her fall into a delicious rhythm. Alessa did not take long to learn the ways of lovemaking in a carriage. She rode him fast, her tight cunny milking him to a fevered pitch. He breathed deep, wanting her to shatter in his arms, to take what she wanted before he found his release.
Rowan thrust into her, taking her lips, suckling her tongue as she fucked him. He was mad for her, adored her.
Loved her?
He held her harder, wanting to please her in all ways. She mewled against his mouth, and he knew she was close. "Oh, Rowan," she panted, kissing him and leaving his mind to whirl.
She shattered in his arms, riding him with a furor that he was unable to deny. He came hard, pumping his seed into her womb, a small part of him hoping it would take root.
He wanted the woman in his arms. Not just tonight or the last two weeks of the Season, but always. The carriage turned, and a part of his conscience warned that they were not far from the mews.
A lopsided smile lifted her lips, her eyes hazy with satisfaction and the remnants of pleasure.
"We need to move, my darling. We are almost back at your home."
She ran her hand over his jaw before kissing him slowly, her tongue tangling with his, and in no rush to move. He threw himself into her touch, uncertain when he would have her again in his arms.
"I cannot give you up, Rowan. Please do not make me," she asked of him, sadness clouding her blue orbs.
He sighed, wishing he did not have to let her go either but not seeing any way forward to allow such a union. It was simply impossible. Rowan lifted her and helped her adjust her gown on the squabs. Her hair was as perfect as when she'd stepped up into the carriage, and other than the slightly rosier cheeks, she did not look like a woman thoroughly fucked in the back of a carriage.
"We will discuss it tomorrow. Now we must depart," he said, moving to sit on the opposite seat, watching her and wanting her again in equal measure.
She looked as displeased as he felt.
"I hate that I cannot touch you, that I cannot be with you whenever I want. I no longer wish to live in this way. Tell me you feel the same, Rowan."
He frowned, knowing he should lie to her. Tell her that he did not feel the same. That there was no hope for them. But he could not. "I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I hate being away from you too. But there is nothing to be done for it. We are from opposite worlds, Alessa. There is no changing who I am."
She glared at him, her lips thinning into a displeased line. "I do not care about any of that. I know what I want, and that is you. It does not matter to me where you're from or who your family is. I will welcome them all if you let me."
He sighed, wishing that were the case. "I have no family, Alessa. I have not had anyone since I was a young boy. I do not even know my age."
Her mouth opened and closed several times, a confusing line to her brow, before she said, "How can you not know your age?" she asked him.
He shrugged, having asked himself that question many times. "I have lived on my own since I was a small boy. I do not remember my parents or siblings if I had any. I only remember I was as young as a six or seven year old. My life was hard and dangerous, and I learned to survive more so than worry about how old I was."
She reached out, taking his hand. "I'm so very sorry, Rowan. Was your life so very bad?" she asked him.
He cringed, the memory of his life never an easy one. "I worked as a chimney sweep for some months. The man who hired me was kind and fed me dinner, but he died, and I was soon on my own again. I remember being taken to several orphanages, but none were as loving and clean and warm as the one you will be helping in Seven Dials."
She bit her bottom lip, listening to his every word. A flood of memories, none of them good, burst free, and he found himself unable to tell her all that happened to him as a child. "One orphanage was worse than the others. The priests there were...well," he said, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat. "They were cruel to the boys especially, and I was one of those boys. I ran away, unable to bear another second in that den of evil, and I've lived on the street ever since.
“I fought, starved, stole, and killed to survive. That is not who a princess marries, not in the real world and not even in a make-believe one. Some of us are destined for greatness, and others, myself included, are not. That is the way of the world, cruel as that world is when something as sweet and pure, kind and gentle as yourself crosses the path of a man like me and makes me want what I cannot have."
She moved over to sit beside him, her arms wrapping about him, holding him close. "I will kill those who harmed you." He felt her shudder in his arms, and he knew she was crying. Rowan wrapped his arms about her, rubbing her back in comfort.
"Do not cry, my darling. There is nothing to be done about it now. it was a long time ago."
"I wish I could take all your pain away," she said, leaning back and meeting his eyes.
He wished she could too. "You do take the sting out of my life just by being near me. You are the first woman to see past my outer shell, and I shall always hold you dear in my heart for giving no judgment on my character and past." The small part she knew of, at least.
"I would never judge you. You mean everything to me. You have saved me and kept me safe. How can I not love you, Rowan?"
He stilled, his heart thumping loudly in his ears. "You cannot love me, Alessa. I'll not allow that. That is too much."
"It is not enough," she said, pulling him back to look at her when he steadfastly refused to meet her eyes. He did not want to fall into her blue orbs, for to fall into her soul was to fall hard and forever.
"I want you in my life, Rowan. Now and forever. I do not care what my sister thinks, what anyone does. I want you. I love you, and you must marry me, or I'll be forever heartbroken."
His heart stopped at her words. She could not marry him. He could not marry her. There was too much between them. The divide was too great. He had met her only because he was to kill her. She would never forgive such a sin should she know the truth. And yet, he wanted to curse everyone to the devil who told him he could not have her. That he could not love her as she loved him.