by Gill, Tamara
"I would marry you tomorrow. You must know that. But you need to understand what marriage to me would mean for you. You will be ostracized by society. No one would want a princess who married her guard as one of their acquaintances. A penniless street urchin without family or name. I have nothing to give you, and you deserve the world."
She clasped his shoulders, shaking him a little. "Do you love me, Rowan? Really love me," she insisted. "As much as I love you?"
He read the hope and fear in her eyes, and he knew he could not lie. "I love and adore you so much that at times I'm crazed with want and fear of you."
A slow smile spread across her face, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him. "That is very good news then, for that is all that matters. You will see." She nodded, a determined note to her words. "I will get my way, and you will be my husband. I will not accept anything less, and nor will I go through life regretting my choice. I want you, not some other nameless prince. Just you."
The carriage rocked to a halt and dipped as the two guards on the back of the carriage jumped down. Alessa threw him a satisfied grin just as the door opened and a guard helped her down.
Rowan followed behind, forcing his pulse to calm and his hope to subside. There was little point in dreaming for a miracle. His life had never gone the way he had hoped, and he had little doubt that in regards to Alessa, it would be no different.
He would lose her in the end. He was to have been her killer, and nothing and no one could go back and change his previous decision, to murder her for blunt. When she found out the truth, she would leave him just like everyone else in his life to date. And deservedly so. He was not for her. That was just the way of the world for hapless nobodies like him.
Chapter 21
Alessa all but floated into her room after leaving Rowan and skidded to a stop at the sight of her sister. Holly stood at the window, looking out onto the gardens at the back of the townhouse.
"Holly, are you well?" Alessa curtsied, slipping off her shawl and laying it over one of the settees before the fire. Her sister turned, clasping her hands at her front, and Alessa could see that she was not well. That there was something very wrong. Her stomach churned, and she steeled herself to listen to whatever it was that was troubling Holly.
"I think you ought to sit, Alessa, for what I'm about to tell you is, I fear, going to hurt you very much."
Holly's tone brooked no argument, and she did as she bade, lowering herself on one of the chairs. "What is it?" she asked, taking a calming breath. Was Elana safe and well? Had something happened to Drew? What?!
Holly joined her. She studied Alessa a moment before rallying herself to speak. "I have received news this evening from the Bow Street Runners, and it is disturbing information."
Alessa frowned, growing ever impatient to hear what it was. "And, what have you found out?"
"Several things," Holly continued. "The first thing you ought to know is that our uncle is indeed dead, but his closest confidant, Roberto Delenzo is behind the attacks on your person. He has gone to ground, but two of his henchmen have been apprehended and are spending their first night in Newgate."
Alessa gasped, remembering Roberto, a man who was like a shadow to her uncle—following him about Atharia and doing his nasty bidding. It made sense that the fool would continue what her uncle had started here in England. "That is good news, is it not?" she stated, relieved to hear that at least they knew who their foe was, and they could go after him with more vigor.
Holly shook her head, pain crossing her features. "There is more. Upon the arrest of the two men who worked for Roberto, they were persuaded to name anyone else who worked to strike out at you." Holly left her chair and kneeled before Alessa's, taking her hands. "Darling, they named Rowan, Mr. Oakley as the man who Roberto hired to infiltrate our security, gain access to you and form a close bond to strike when the timing was right. He was hired to kill you, sweetheart. I'm so sorry," Holly stated, not letting go of her.
Alessa wrenched free, standing. The room spun, and she clasped the mantel to anchor herself. Rowan? No, it could not be. He loved her. He had stated that fact only minutes before she entered the house. He would not agree to do such an underhanded, unhonorable thing to her or anyone. "You are mistaken. That is not true," she stated, shaking her head. Bile rose in her throat, and she ran to the chamber pot, vomiting up the contents of her stomach.
She heard her sister pour water somewhere in the room before coming over to her and passing her the glass. "Here, sister, drink this. It will settle your stomach. I know this will be a great shock to you, but you must believe me. What I say is true. I would never lie to you. You know that."
Alessa could not believe it at all. She took the glass of water and had a sip, putting it aside just as quickly. She stood, pacing the floor, her gown swishing in her wake. "Rowan would not do such a thing. He's an honorable man. A kind man," she argued, thinking of all the wonderful moments they had together. All the times he'd held her in his arms, kissed and touched her, made love to her, brought her so much pleasure.
No, her mind inwardly screamed. Holly was wrong. She had to be. To think of Rowan, a cold-blooded murderer, a liar, a man who had only stated such things to her to turn about and kill her, could not be right.
"If he was hired to kill me, then why has he not? He has had plenty of opportunities, believe me," she admitted, knowing the time to lie, to deny how she felt for him and what she had done was long over. "I have given myself to him, Holly."
Her sister gasped, her eyes going wide with alarm. "Tell me you did not, Alessa," she chided, coming over to her and clasping her shoulders. "Tell me you did not sleep with him. He's a murderer, a hired killer, and one who has you in his sights. Tell me you did not allow him to fool you so easily."
Alessa swallowed the lump in her throat, the panic that continued to build within her. Her hands shook, and her legs felt feeble. "I love him. I have fallen in love with him. How could I not be with him in all ways?"
Holly let her go, her sister's face ashen with alarm. "He is bad, Alessa. To his very core, he is rotten. No man of honor, no man who loved another, agreed to kill the very person they supposedly adore. You have been fooled, sister. But thankfully, we have discovered this nasty plot before anything happened to you."
"He could have killed me weeks ago. We have been alone multiple times. I do not believe that Roberto Delenzo and his thugs are telling the truth. They are the liars. Rowan has done nothing but keep me from harm, never placing me before it."
Holly shook her head, disregarding her words. "We leave tonight on a ship back to Atharia. Rowan is right now downstairs in the custody of the Bow Street Runners, and he will face the full force of the English law. He will hang by morning. I will not leave England until I'm assured of it," Holly declared, determination in her tone.
Alessa could not believe it. Not until she heard it from Rowan, which of course he would refute all these claims, and all would be well. He would make Holly see that Roberto and his thugs were liars. That they were the criminals, and they had hit out at Rowan to hurt her. That was their plan.
"I need to speak to him."
"Absolutely not," Holly returned, glaring at her, no longer her sister but her powerful, demanding queen.
"I need to speak to him, Holly. I need to hear it from him, or I shall never believe you." Which, of course, she did not. None of these lies were true.
Her sister paced, mumbling under her breath. Alessa could not make out what she said, but she could guess well enough. Her sister was torn, enraged, and most definitely betrayed. But all would be well. Rowan would make this right. He would put a stop to this nonsense and make Holly see that he may have had a hard life, but that did not make him a killer for hire.
"I cannot allow it. He could finish what he came here to do in the first place. It is too risky."
Alessa crossed her arms. "No, if you want me to leave London by morning, I need to hear what you accuse Rowan of from him. If
I do not, I shall never believe you, nor will I ever forgive you if you take me from the man I love, and he is innocent of the crime you lay at his door."
Holly narrowed her eyes, her mouth pinched. "I will ensure he is tied up further before you speak to him. I will not allow it under any other circumstances. If you're in agreement, then I shall let you speak with him before we go." Holly moved to the door, opening it before waiting out in the passage for Alessa.
With one final deep breath, Alessa followed her, determined to find out the truth and put a stop to all this madness, for to believe the alternative would surely make her mad if Holly turned out to be telling her the truth.
His treachery could not be so. It was simply unfathomable.
* * *
Rowan sat in the library, tied with immovable rope around his chest, arms, wrists, and ankles. There was not the slightest chance he was escaping these bonds, and he could only imagine what was going through Alessa's mind right at this moment.
Her sister would have no doubt notified her of his capture. Not his finest moment, but it was the least he deserved. He was the murderer they accused him of being. Worse still, he was working here for one reason and one reason only—to kill Alessa.
He ground his teeth, self-loathing riding him hard. The door to the library opened, and he caught the sweet scent of jasmine and orange and knew Alessa was behind him.
"They allowed you to see me. I did not think your sister would relent," he stated. The queen had been adamant she would see him hang. That she had never trusted him, and her gut reaction to his presence in the house was right all along.
Rowan had denied the charges, of course, but there was truth to what she said. He was a killer. Granted, he only killed degenerative men who deserved to meet their maker, but that did not change who he was and what he was doing here.
Alessa came about the chair, facing him. She still wore the gown she had worn to the Devonshire ball. The very one he had lifted and taken his fill of her only an hour before.
How had it been that his life had changed so much in such a short period? The night had been young, and he had intended to travel down to Aldgate to take care of the last two men who worked to kill Alessa but had not made it to Piccadilly Road before the Queen of Atharia's men had clubbed him from behind and bundled him up in ropes.
His head throbbed, and he could taste blood in his mouth. No doubt on his fall to the ground, his face had taken the brunt.
She gasped, her face paling, and he guessed that his injuries were worse than first thought.
"Ask me, Alessa," he stated, seeing no point in delaying the inevitable. They had never stood a chance, now perhaps she would agree with him for a change.
The sadness that entered her trusting blue orbs broke his heart, and he cursed himself to hell for hurting her so. Should he have his time again, he would never have accepted such a mission to harm her. That he had in the first place made his stomach churn.
"Is it true, Rowan?" she asked him, watching his every move. "Were you hired to kill me?"
He nodded once, watching as his life slipped from his fingers. The woman he loved grow ever distant from him. For there was no keeping her after this. No redemption for his corrupt self. "It is true. Roberto Delenzo hired me to kill you for reasons only he could understand. I was to be paid a handsome sum, and that is all of my dealings with the man to date."
Her mouth opened and closed several times, but no words spilled forth. He could see she was struggling with the news, that his words broke her as much as they hurt him.
"When did you plan on killing me? Was it tonight? The first time we met? When?" she asked, her voice unnervingly calm.
He wished he could go to her, wrap her in his arms, fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He tested the ropes bound around him and found the action only tightened their hold. "Whenever the opportunity arose, which I will admit occurred often. But upon meeting you and getting to know you these past weeks, I saw that you were a good person with a genuine heart. I could not kill you. Instead, I fell in love with you, and I knew that the only people I would kill were those who wished you harm."
Her swallow was almost audible. She slumped against the desk, her knuckles white from holding the mahogany wood so tight. "Are you saying you killed Roberto's men?"
"Of course I did. You were there when I killed Piedro and Dino, if you remember. They were hired by your uncle's man and would have harmed you had I not been at the tavern. I would not allow that. I could not allow anything to happen to you, then or now."
She thought over his words a moment before she said, "The last two men other than yourself are locked away in Newgate, but Roberto has gone to ground. The Runners are looking for him now, but I do not hold out much hope. He will disappear, and no doubt slink back to cause more mischief another day."
The thought that Alessa would always be in harm's way made his blood pump cold. How would he survive wherever he ended up next with the thought that Alessa could be injured or killed? He would rather die than live a life constantly wondering about her. He would be a shell of a man who did not live at all with such a future.
Not that you have one, his mind reminded him.
"Have me freed, and I will kill him, Alessa. I promise you, on my honor, that he will not survive the night."
She scoffed, laughing, the sound brittle and cold. "You? Upon your honor? Well, that is something new, I suppose. An honorable killer, no matter if you only kill those who deserve it. Like any of your other victims, what if they too had been put about as bad, evil people and were not. I am not wicked, and yet you thought to snap my neck, did you not? Or were you going to use a knife or gun? Tell me, how would you have killed me?" she demanded of him.
Rowan had never thought to delve further into the men he had killed in the past for their crimes, taking the victim's words as truth. Mayhap that was wrong. By God, had he not come to know Alessa, she would already be gone. He closed his eyes, thankful he had not acted as swiftly as he normally would.
"The Hamilton ball was where I was going to kill you. I followed you into the darkened passage, and no one knew where we were. The opportunity arose, and I even reached up and clasped your face, ready to break your pretty neck, if you remember. But you looked at me with such longing, such hope that I froze. I knew at that moment that you were different and that I had made a grave mistake. One that I have been trying to correct since."
Alessa looked at him as if she did not know who he was. He wanted to scream that she did know, that she was the only person who knew him at all. Never had he ever opened up to anyone as much as he opened up to her. He loved and adored her. He could not lose her now, but he no longer held that choice. The truth was out, and with it, so too did it bring an end to their love.
She would hate him now.
"How could you?" She strode up to him, lifting his chin, her fingers hard against his flesh, pinching him a little. "What a fool I have been. Here I thought that you were the first man who wanted to kiss me enough that you would risk my reputation and your life to do so. And all the while, you wanted to snap my neck like a twig. You stood before me, a stranger whom I trusted and should not have trusted at all. You're a bastard," she snapped, pushing him away and striding to stand around the opposite side of the desk.
"I am a bastard," he agreed. "God knows it is unlikely my parents were married, but I do love you, Alessa. I will never love anyone as much as I love you. I'm sorry I took the job from Delenzo. I was desperate. I have nothing. I've never had anything. All my life, I've struggled, and I could not see my way out. The payment would secure me for life, and I could not turn it away. But I promise you, your life was never in danger from me. Not really.
“The moment I saw you, as hard as I was upon you when we first met, it was because I knew I had made a mistake. That there was no chance that I could hurt one hair on your precious head. I knew that my only mission was keeping you alive, and if you let me go, that is what I shall do. Delenzo will be no
thing more than a bad memory, and so too will I. I will not seek you out or contact you again. I will disappear and allow you to move on with your life, marry another and be happy. That is all that I want for you. I know there is no chance for us anymore."
She swiped at her cheeks, her eyes sparkling with tears. He cursed, hating that he'd hurt her so. Damn it all to hell. He hated himself right at that moment.
"Very well," she said, coming around the desk and swiping up a small knife he had not seen sitting on the surface of the desk. She cut the ropes about his feet and hands and then his chest, giving him his freedom.
She stood back, keeping the knife in her hand. "There is a hidden servants’ door to the right of the bookshelf over there," she said, pointing to that part of the room. "Follow it to the very end, and it will bring you out to a hatch in the duke's mews. It was shown to me upon arriving here as a way of escape should anything happen to me or my life was threatened inside the house." She laughed, but the sound was hollow. "How stupid of us all not to know that the threat was in the house all along. That I allowed that threat to enter my bed."
Rowan felt the blow of her words like a physical punch to his gut. He did not try to beg for her to forgive him, to give him one last memory of her sweet lips. Instead, he strode to the servants’ door and pushed it open, seeing the darkened corridor beyond. Swiping up a candle, he cast one last look at Alessa, imprinting her on his mind, his memory, and left.
He would not see her again, and his heart stopped at the realization of it.
Chapter 22
Rowan knew that Delenzo would try one last time to strike at Alessa, even if it were from his own hand. He sat in wait in an old abandoned warehouse that overlooked the Port of London. London Bridge just off to the side of where the ships docked. Here he could see several vessels of differing sizes docked, one of which was bigger and grander than the others, but without a flag.