Big Bad Royal: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Tia Siren

  Finally, she had given in and boarded the train after communicating with a man in Nevada named Mark Brooks, who was living in a tiny established property called Las Vegas. There were only a few hundred people there, maybe a bit more. Margaret’s village in England had room for about 1000 before it began to break into sections.

  The ad had requested a woman of average height and weight with a strong back and a love for horses. She definitely met those qualifications. The groom, Mark, said he was looking for a bride who would share his interests.

  If Mark’s interest was in horses, Margaret was definitely answering the ad.

  Through their letters, Margaret had explained that her father had brought her from England when she was young. Mark had told her that he had once already had a family – a wife and two children, one of each – but that they had been killed in a raid by hostile Indians. It had been nearly ten years and he was tired of being alone. The women he knew, within his circle of friends, were few and far between and so far, none had shared his love for horses.

  Margaret was also interested to read that he attended church regularly. Most people did, she noticed, but few mentioned it in passing, as part of an introduction to themselves. Mark had not only made mention of it but told her politely that she would be required as his wife to attend with him.

  She thought it was a bit strange that he should say such things but shrugged it off, wanting to know more about him as a person before making any judgments. Of course she would go; she would be happy too, as a matter of fact. It was also a practice she and her father shared. They had rarely missed a day, even after her mother and brother passed away and her second brother stopped attending.

  Her attention was drawn from her thoughts when the young man sitting in front of her pulled out a gold pocket watch with a fast moving train emblazoned and embossed on the front. He pressed the button and it flipped open, revealing the time. He looked up and saw that she was looking at the watch.

  He turned it so that she could see the face was trimmed with gold and had tiny gold hands inside it. There were even a few small diamonds encrusted inside at the very middle where the hands met.

  “This was my father’s,” He said, leaning forward to whisper loudly, as if what he was saying was top secret. Margaret instinctively leaned forward, as well, scanning the watch a little closer. “He gave it to me before I left New York. I’ve taken this watch almost all over the country now. All I have to do is reach the ocean on the West coast and I will have traveled every single mile with this watch telling me the time.”

  Margaret lifted her eyebrows, not sure how to respond to that. It seemed like a senseless trip if it was only to bring a watch from one side of the country to the other.

  He noticed the look on her face and smiled. Suddenly, he seemed more attractive to her and she smiled back.

  “I see you are wondering why I would do something so foolish as to travel all over the country just for a watch.”

  Margaret sat back without a word, still smiling.

  He chuckled. “Well, I’ll tell you why. I’m not just carrying this watch around the country. I’m making records of the time differences. You see, I developed this watch.”

  She began to listen to him more closely, interested in his watch and the recordings he was doing of time changes. He told her his watch was special because it went by the shadow of the sun, similar to a sun dial. He seemed pleased that she knew what a sun dial was. She thought everyone knew what a sun dial was.

  When he went to a different climate, he would record the hours his watch gave him until the sun dial said it was a different time. Then he would calculate the distance between where he had been and when the time change occurred.

  “What do you hope to gain from all of this?” Margaret asked in a curious voice, her head tilted.

  “I hope that someday we will be more accurately counting time and days when communicating with each other from across the country.”

  “How in the world do you think that is going to happen? Are you also developing faster horses?” Margaret gave him a smile to let him know she was teasing him. He smiled back.

  “No, but think about it…” He hesitated and she said,

  “Margaret.”

  “Yes, think about it, Margaret. It’s John, by the way. If you think about how fast this locomotive is going, that steam engine is taking us all the way across the country with the power of hundreds of horses.”

  “So you don’t need horses to take letters across the country? It still takes a very long time to travel.”

  John nodded. “I believe that someday we will develop and have the knowledge to create faster communications and travel.”

  “I really can’t imagine, John. I must be a grounded thinker. I’ve never been much of a day dreamer.”

  “Oh, it’s not a daydream, Margaret,” John responded in an excited tone. He scooted to the edge of the bench he was sitting on and pulled at his bow tie subconsciously. “I’ve been developing these time tables and records for a year, really more than a year. I’m not going to stop until I have a complete list of analysis. I want everyone to have one of my watches eventually. Then they will know what time it is all over the world!”

  Margaret had to laugh, the thought of the entire world being able to communicate with each other in a short time was amusing. John smiled at her, not at all disappointed by her frivolity. He was used to people laughing at his plan for everyone to know what time it was no matter where they traveled or resided.

  “I try not to think about the time,” Margaret said. “It never seems I have enough to do all the things I need to do in a day, much less the time to do what I want. And I never get to do what I want, as it is.”

  “And what is it you want to do?” John asked.

  “Sleep in every morning.”

  They both laughed.

  “Why are you traveling by yourself across the country?” John asked. Margaret braced herself for whatever reaction she was going to get.

  “To marry a stranger.” She responded bluntly.

  “Oh really?” John just nodded, looking at her. “I certainly do hope it turns out well for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you know anything about him?”

  “Not really, just that his name is Mark and he loves horses. My father taught me to rope, train and live with horses on a regular basis. Now I return the favor by marrying a man who also loves horses the way we do.”

  “It’s certainly good to start out on a new adventure in life.”

  “I agree.”

  “And being with someone compatible should make it even better.” His tone had changed somewhat and she suspected he had been hoping for a closer relationship upon their arrival at their destination. She wasn’t offended and felt a bit flattered that he had sprung into conversation with an obviously single woman on a train. His face was still friendly, though he looked a bit disappointed.

  “And do you have a wife?” She asked. If he was going to be forward, she would gladly return it.

  “I do not.” He shook his head. “Too much traveling. Never found a woman willing to do it.”

  “Well, I certainly hope you do someday, if that is what you wish. And what a grand opportunity you have to find a woman who loves to travel as you do. You are always on here, I gather, and that’s where she will be, too!”

  John shrugged, smiling. “I guess we will see what happens in the future, won’t we?”

  Chapter Two

  The dry dusty plain spread out in front of Margaret to one side, and the bustling action of the station was on the other. She looked out over the plain. It was in such contrast to the people milling about, talking, laughing and crying their goodbyes. She held on to her satchel and thought about how John had continued to talk to her about his travels for the rest of the ride. He was obviously itching to tell someone about them.

  It made her wonder why he looked surprised when she said that he should write it all down and make a
book of his adventures. It was as if the idea had never occurred to him before.

  She went with her satchel directly into the train station and approached the clerk behind the counter.

  “Pardon me,” she said. “Where is the nearest post?’

  “You can send a telegraph through me right here, young lady. You want to send a letter you gotta go the other side of the station and talk to Ester.”

  Margaret thought about it for a moment. “I will send a telegraph.”

  She proceeded to send her father a message, letting him know that she had arrived safely and would be en route to Las Vegas shortly. She would keep him updated of her status.

  The clerk took the telegraph and Margaret paid for it in coins.

  She turned away just in time to see a man she suspected was Mark approaching her from the two double doors she had come through. He was not so tall, but he walked with confidence, taking long strides, his broad shoulders pushed back. Margaret noticed how his hazel eyes glistened and his smile was warm. He was handsome.

  “Hello,” Mark said as he got closer, removing his hat. “You are Margaret, are you not?”

  “I am. How did you guess?”

  Mark took one of her long blond braids in his hand and touched the soft hair with his large, short fingers. Her bright blue eyes stared up at him from behind surprisingly dark lashes. He wondered how she managed that.

  “Your description matches you nearly to perfection, Margaret. How uncanny.”

  Margaret blushed a little and confessed, “It was my father who wrote that letter.”

  Mark hesitated before throwing his head back to laugh loudly. “No wonder you sounded so full of yourself. That’s bound to happen when a father describes a daughter he loves.” He looked down at her. “You do have a close relationship with your father don’t you?”

  “I do.” Margaret smiled up at him, pleased that he could tell without her saying it.

  “It’s a good thing to have a relationship with your father like that. Respect is very important.”

  “I agree.”

  “Did your father approve of your decision to answer my ad?”

  “Yes, he did. He was encouraging from the beginning.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Mark was very happy to hear it. He knew that a woman who had respect for her father would have respect for her husband, too. When he’d placed the ad, he’d only done so because he had been through all the women in the city and he hadn’t found a decent one in the bunch. He decided to roll the dice on a stranger, at the behest of one of his buddies at the stables. It had been all somebody else’s idea and he’d lucked out. He’d won that bet. He smiled. “So if you don’t mind, I’m just gonna take you on to the courthouse and get the papers signed.”

  Margaret nodded. She didn’t know how it was supposed to go anyway. If he wanted it quick and immediate, she didn’t have an objection.

  “I am fine with that.”

  “Then after it’s done, you can come with me to the stables where I keep my horses. Some of them are for breeding. I also race.”

  She looked up at him with wide eyes. “You ride a horse in a race?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I used to be a jockey, yeah, but it was a while ago. Now I just watch the races and train the jockeys and horses and breed. I’d like it if you would be there, meet everybody, maybe help out sometimes.”

  Margaret jostled in the seat when the tires bumped over rocks and debris. She grabbed Mark’s arm instinctively and he smiled at her.

  “You’ll have to get used to that. These roads can be pretty rough. You can’t really even call most of them roads. They’re just paths. The tires have made them in the ground where people keep going.”

  “How long have you been here?” Margaret asked, looking at the dismal scene as it passed her by. There was not much of anything there. The people didn’t look very happy and the dust was constantly being kicked up by one horse or another.

  “I was born and raised in the area but I’ve been here in this part of Nevada for four years. That’s when it got the postmaster, back in ’84. I arrived just days before they made it part of this state instead of Arizona.”

  “That’s very interesting.” Margaret nodded, politely. She had no knowledge of either Arizona or Nevada and hadn’t been interested in reading the news when she and her father had a business to run. She scanned the landscape again, looking at the heavily male occupied area that seemed like a blight in the middle of plush green all around them. There was almost a line differentiating between where man dominated and land dominated. “I must say it seems quite amazing that you would race horses here. I didn’t know such a thing existed in these small places out here in the West.”

  “Well, we have to do something to entertain ourselves, don’t we? Especially us men who don’t frequent the saloon until all hours of the morning. I don’t care for the taste of that beer they serve, and liquor gives me a blasting headache. So no worries in that department. Saves me a pretty penny, I’d say, not drinking like my buddies do.”

  They pulled up in front of a small official looking building and she knew it was the local courthouse.

  “They got what we need in here. Let’s go on in, sign the papers and be done with that, how does that sound? Oh, and if you want to wait a short time to get in to the marital bed, should I say, that sits fine with me, too. I’d like to get to know what kind of woman you are, if that’s okay with you.”

  “That’s a good idea, Mark. I appreciate that.” She did feel a sense of relief. She had been a bit worried about it.

  Margaret followed Mark into the building and went through the motions of getting married. The clerks in the courthouse were not congratulatory, nor were they interested in the event whatsoever. They signed as witnesses to the union and the two of them were walking out of the courthouse less than an hour later.

  “So you are Mrs. Mark Brooks now,” He said as he gave her his hand to help her up onto the wagon. “How’s it feel?”

  She gave him a small smile. “Not much different than when I wasn’t Mrs. Mark Brooks.”

  “It’ll hit ya later.”

  Margaret let out a small laugh. It felt good so she did it again. Mark gave her a nice smile in response.

  “So we are going to your stables now?”

  He nodded. “Yeah there’s some people there I want you to meet. I work with them all the time and they need to… they want to see you.”

  She thought it was a strange way to put things until she rolled his words over in her mind a few times. If he was the owner of the stables then all the people were probably his employees. That made her their boss, too, she supposed. It made her smile. She wasn’t about to take over her husband’s business.

  Thinking of him as her husband made her feel even more strange inside. In fact, her heart began to thump fairly hard and she felt a cold chill. She was married. It was almost too unbelievable. A year ago, she would have never believed her path would lead in this direction. Her future as the bride of a stranger.

  She wouldn’t allow nervousness to take her over. She shook it off and straightened her spine. It made the hard bench feel even harder. He glanced down at her, noticing her discomfort.

  “Sorry about having to pick you up in the wagon.” He said. “Friend of mine has my carriage.”

  You couldn’t get it for the day? She thought but kept silent. She nodded at him and turned to look out in front of them. They were on a main path that looked well-traveled but quickly turned off onto a small path that looked to be no more than wheel paths in tall grass. She could almost reach down and touch the top of the grass and weeds as they went by. She didn’t and pulled back from it a little, wondering what types of creatures and insects might lurk in there.

  Mark didn’t say anything when he felt her press gently against him, drawing away from the foliage. She was wise to, he thought. There were often prickers and flying insects that left nasty welts on their bodies if they weren’t careful. He got
through the area as quickly as he could.

  Margaret was flooded with relief when the wagon moved out from the tall grass and into a vast clearing. She was staring at a cleared road, dug out from the ground so that the path was obvious and the dirt they rode through was soft but not too soft. On either side, grass had been mowed down to the smallest blade and she wondered how they had ever managed to do that. It looked as though someone had taken a pair of scissors and precisely cut each blade to perfection.

  She drew in a deep breath, looking further. In front of her stood a tall building that stretched out at least 90 feet in length. It was two stories. As they got closer, she could see it was one of the most beautiful stables she had ever seen.

  If she was this amazed by the building, how awed would she be by the horses? She turned wide blue eyes up to Mark. “I am stunned by this building, Mark. How majestic!”

  He smiled, running his eyes over the tall brown building. He kept it in excellent shape, giving everything he had to make it look like the best there was.

  “I love my horses. Thank you for the compliment. We’ll stop here and go around the building so you can see what’s on the other side.”

  “I think I see part of it.” She could see the rings running around in a half circle and then going back in the same direction. “You have a racetrack here.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s very interesting.” She nodded, appreciatively. She knew nothing about horse racing, only how to breed, train and care for them. When she looked at him, she noticed something strange. It looked like he wanted to weep. His face had turned a bit red and he took a moment to place his hand firmly in front of his mouth and gaze at her. “Are you all right?” She asked.

  When he responded, she could tell he only had it there to keep in a laugh. “I’m just glad you aren’t shocked by any of this. You seem like a real decent woman. How is it you haven’t been married before?”

  Margaret shook her head. “I never found the right one. The men were just…”

  She made a disgusted face, and he let out his laughter. “Well, their loss, I’d say, is my gain. Come and meet the men.”