Pain of The Marquess: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  “I needed Crow out of the way,” he said. “I thought to force you to relieve him of his position, but it wasn’t enough. He would have still been around. I needed him gone, out of London.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  He tossed something into the fire that made the flames jump. “Crow doesn’t have my book. He was looking for it. He might have been close. I needed to make him run, make him busy so that I could find it first.”

  She’d thought her assailant had a heart. Now, she knew otherwise.

  “If you had the book, if you knew the things it contained, you would be out there on the street fixing it.”

  “It?” she breathed.

  “Everything.” He looked at her. “You messed up, Lady Irene.”

  Her mouth went dry. “I don’t have it.”

  “You don’t, but now you’ve involved others into the search,” he said. “You’ve other lords, powerful lords looking for it. Now, instead of dealing with one man, I’m dealing with five and the five are much more powerful.”

  Desperately, she clung to her sheets. “If they find it, they will give it to me.”

  He chuckled. “You’re a fool if you think so. You have no idea what that book contains. I can’t afford for them to find it.”

  “I’ll tell them to stop looking,” she said.

  “They won’t. It’s too late.” He stood and turned to her in one fluid motion. “But perhaps I can distract them long enough to find it myself.”

  Irene didn’t think. She screamed.

  He rushed her and fought. She shouted until he silenced her with a hand around her throat.

  The door bust open and three footmen rushed in.

  They wrestled the man away.

  The assailant turned his back to her as she fought the men.

  One went down and then another.

  Irene saw something in the man’s hand. It was covered in blood.

  The last footman flung himself away from what Irene was now positive was a blade.

  Irene’s continued screams brought more people to the room.

  The assailant jumped out the window just as the room filled with footmen.

  And then Lady Angelini came in. She looked at Irene and then at the footmen and the men on the floor before looking at her again. Then she turned to one of the standing footmen. “Go for Clive.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 4

  * * *

  Clive closed the door to the receiving room and turned to his mother.

  Angelini stood from the couch. “Is she asleep?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry to have brought this into your home.”

  His mother waved his words away. “It’s all right. So long as she is well. Clive, what is going on?”

  He cupped his mother’s shoulders when she was close enough. “I can’t say, but I’ll take Irene from here in the morning.” They’d settled Irene into his old room. Clive had held her as she’d fallen to sleep, but he could tell by her pinched bows that it would be restless. She was troubled, worried, which he hated. “I thought she’d be safe here. I never would have brought her here if that wasn’t so.”

  “The doctor says the footman will be all right so long as no infection takes root,” Angelini said.

  Clive stared at his mother. “You’re taking all of this well. Irene told me there was much blood at the scene.”

  Angelini’s expression closed. “I’ve seen more than my share of blood and wounds in my life, including yours.”

  He dropped his hands. “Yes, but this is much more than a bruised knee.”

  She shrugged. “No one died. That is all that mattered. Where will you take Irene in the morning?”

  He let the matter of his mother’s strange calmness go and focused on her question. “I can’t risk anyone else, including my friends.”

  “So, you’ll take her to your townhouse?” she asked.

  “I’ve no other choice. If I put her in an inn or hotel, he might come after her again.”

  “Do you think you can keep her safe?” Angelini asked.

  “I can, and I will.”

  She smiled softly. “You’re a good man, Clive. You take after your father. He always thought of me first.” It went unsaid that Lord Edmund did not think of his mother first.

  Clive would have liked to meet his father. He hoped he’d inherited something besides his looks from him but caring for Irene was easy. All he had to do was think of what Lord Edmund would do and then do the opposite.

  “Clive,” his mother said. Her expression became a scowl. “You cannot take that lady into your home without doing so properly.”

  Clive’s belly tightened. “I know.” He’d have to marry Irene. There was truly no way around it. The man was clearly desperate now. Only Clive could protect her. “I’ll marry her.” He imagined the happiness that would come over Irene when she learned that she finally got her way.

  In a strange way, he was glad for her. He was very much willing to sacrifice himself for her happiness.

  His mother brightened. “I wish to be there for the ceremony... if you don’t mind.”

  He smiled. For years, he’d wondered if Edmund would allow his mother to attend his wedding. Now he didn’t have to. The man was out of town on business. He would not need to be consulted.

  “I didn’t tell you about the first time I met Lady Irene,” his mother said. “It was years ago, around the time those rumors started about you stealing her hairpin.”

  Rumors that were based on fact.

  “Who introduced you?” Clive couldn’t imagine Lord van Dero doing the honor.

  “She introduced herself.” Angelini grinned. “She walked right up to me and declared she’d one day be my daughter-in-law.”

  Clive was amazed at Irene’s boldness. He laughed. She’d been right. The little minx. “She was right.”

  Angelini nodded. “She was. When I saw you begin to take interest in her last year, I thought this day would come sooner. I thought I’d miss it.” Her eyes glowed with unshed tears. “I wish you and Edmund would simply sit down and speak about whatever it is that stands between you.”

  Clive stepped away. “I don’t want to discuss him.” That was the rule. They didn’t discuss him. She didn’t say the man’s name in his presence.

  She nodded quickly, anxious. At the same time, she pressed her hands to her chest. His eyes were drawn to her bare hand once more. The missing ring. “I know. I just… You’re getting married. Soon you’ll have your own family. I only wish to be a part of it.”

  “You will be a part of it,” he said, his chest aching. “You’re my mother.”

  She nodded again and then looked down.

  He closed the distance between them and hugged her to him. “You should rest. I’ve imposed on your sleep long enough.”

  She sighed and settled against his chest. “You could never impose on me, Clive.”

  He was certain she truly thought so.

  * * *

  “Irene, wake up.”

  She groaned and turned away from Clive’s voice. “Leave. Please.” She wasn’t even thrilled to hear him first thing in the morning. That was how tired she was. She’d just fallen asleep; she was sure of it.

  “Get up, Irene.”

  “Give me another hour.” She buried herself farther under the sheets. They smelled liked Clive though she knew that was impossible. He’d never slept on them. But it was his room. Perhaps, his scent was in the walls.

  “We don’t have another hour. The clergyman is waiting for us downstairs.”

  Clergyman?

  Clive wasn’t making any sense. Perhaps, she was still dreaming. Either way, she wanted him to leave her alone. Yet again, she was impressed with how bone-deep tired she was.

  She was grabbed a moment later, picked up, and placed on her feet. Through it all, she kept her eyes closed.

  “Open your eyes.”

  “No.” She tried to find the bed with her hands.

  He grabbed
her shoulders and made her face him. She felt her hair fall into her face. She did nothing to fix it.

  “Look at me.” The humor in his voice got a blink from her.

  She wanted a glimpse of his smile. Once she got it, she closed her eyes again. She grinned.

  “Is this what you look like every morning? I suppose I could get used to this.”

  She mentally rolled her eyes. He was teasing her again. “Please, let me go back to bed.”

  “You may return to bed after we’re wed.”

  Irene’s heart raced, recognizing the combination of words before her brain could organize them. She opened her eyes. “What?”

  Clive moved her hair back and his tantalizing eyes struck fire within her. His face was made even more beautiful by his smile. There was also something tranquil about his features. He looked relaxed. The events of yesterday didn’t seem to weigh on him. “We’re getting married.”

  Irene’s heart lurched. Her brain needed a few more seconds to understand. “What?” She was awake now.

  He let her go. “There are maids outside the door. They’ve been waiting to ready you. I’ll send them in.”

  She took a step back, hit the bed, and fell in. “What?”

  He placed his hands on either side of the bed and leaned into her. His eyes teased. “That is the third time you’ve asked me that. I believe I’ve already explained. I’ve been up since dawn preparing this. Obtaining a special license is not as easy as one would think, but I managed to get it.” He wasn’t teasing.

  He’d also managed to dress and freshen himself. He looked like a man who was about to marry.

  He planned to marry her.

  “Oh,” she said.

  He nodded. “Shall I send the maids in?”

  She touched his cheek. Panic attacked her joy. “Are you serious?”

  “I would never play with you this way.”

  Irene let him go and scooted away and got to her knees. “Are you serious?”

  He straightened. “I just said I was.”

  “We’re getting married?” She stood on his bed.

  “Yes, I just said...” He frowned and looked her over. “What are you doing?”

  She bounced once on the mattress. Joy began to bubble up. “You wish to marry me?” She covered her heated cheeks. “We’re getting married?”

  “Irene—”

  With a shout, she jumped and launched herself at him.

  He caught her. “Irene!”

  She wrapped her arms around him and continued to shout. “We’re getting married!”

  He set her down. “Have you lost your mind?” Even as he asked it, his hands played in her hair. She heard the smile and then she saw it.

  He was smiling at her. He looked happy.

  “Do you love me?” she asked.

  His smile slowly faded. “There are more important reasons to marry, Irene, or have you forgotten about last night?”

  Last night.

  “You’re not safe on your own. You need a husband. I will be that for you.”

  His words snuffed her happiness out like a useless flame. He wasn’t marrying her because he wanted to. He was handling the situation. He was trying to keep her safe.

  She shook her head. This was all wrong. Even worse was the fact that she’d been willing to forget her penance for her father’s sins and abandon her plan to live the remainder of her life as a vengeful maiden to be with Clive. She’d have still sought vengeance for those her father had hurt, but she’d have done it with Clive at her side.

  If he loved her.

  But she would not marry him if he would not admit his feelings for her.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 5

  * * *

  Clive stared into Irene’s eyes and knew her mind to be a hundred thoughts away from the present. She’d sobered since her earlier elation, and Clive admitted that he missed it. He’d been nervous about his future, unsure if he were doing the right thing.

  Until he’d seen Irene’s joy. Then he’d known. He’d been sure. This was right. After everything she’d been through, she deserved happiness. She deserved to have everything she wanted.

  He wanted to be the one to give her that. He wanted to protect her and slay any threat that came her way.

  The only other women he’d ever felt this protective of had been his mother and sisters.

  But never had he felt as full as he had when Irene had jumped into his arms. Had anyone ever wanted him so openly? Accepted him so completely? She knew things his mother and sisters would never know.

  His world had been shaking for some time, the ground unsteady until she’d righted it. She’d straightened his world and added color.

  His hands were still in her hair. It was slightly coarse. The black curls were wild and tumbled around her like rough sea waves. They transformed her.

  She was breathtaking.

  He gathered the hair away from her face and decided he still liked her. Very much. When it came down to it, he couldn’t do worse for a wife. She already loved him. She’d been his for years. He doubted she’d leave him. Ever.

  The reassurance settled him.

  “I can’t marry you.”

  He caught her eyes again. His hands stilled. “What?”

  “You have to say it,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  She grabbed his shoulders. “I have to hear it, or I won’t marry you.”

  “What must you hear?”

  She frowned and tilted her head disapprovingly. “Say the words, Clive. Admit how you feel for me.”

  His stomach tightened, and his hands fell from her hair rather reluctantly. “Irene…” He didn’t know what else to say. His chest hurt as she stepped back.

  “Say it, Clive.” Her eyes demanded it. “Say the words or there will be no wedding.”

  He was shocked by her audacity and even more surprised by the fear that gripped him. Was she serious? When had he allowed himself to get into his position? She was supposed to be begging to wed him. Now she was refusing over a few choice words.

  He shook his head. “I can’t say it.”

  “I mean it, Clive.” The woman had the nerve to put her hands on her hips. “I won’t marry you otherwise.”

  “I don’t love you.” He hated himself for speaking the words, but they were true. “I won’t lie to you.”

  Her eyes widened. Her response was not what he’d expected. “You only lie to yourself.”

  His gut turned. “That’s not true.”

  She turned away and went to the window. “You love me, Clive. You’ve been in love with me for just as long as I’ve loved you.”

  He barked a laugh though the moment was far from comedic. “Irene! That’s… ridiculous. It’s ridiculous how long you’ve loved me to begin with, but that was your choice.”

  “No, I was your choice.” She turned and pointed at him. “Admit it. You didn’t want the hairpin for money. You kissed me because you were in love with me.”

  No, he’d kissed her because he was in love with another woman.

  That, he would never say aloud. He feared what it would do to her. All these years, she’d thought their moment one thing when it had been something else entirely.

  He sighed. “Irene, this conversation is pointless. We’re getting married. You have no protector. I will be your protector.”

  “I will not marry you until you say it.”

  He groaned and stalked to her. “I swear, if you don’t get dressed I’ll—”

  “Take me over your knee?” She placed her hands on his chest and stroked up.

  An all-consuming heat poured over him from where she touched him. He braced his hands on the window to keep from touching her.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. Anger made way for lust. It burned in her eyes just as much as it he was certain it burned in his. Her voice was as soft as her caress. “Admit you want me.”

  That was easy enough. “I want you. I’ve
also wanted other women in the past. I’ve taken other women.”

  “But you’ve never wanted them as much as you want me. Admit it.” She was petting the back of his neck, coaxing the words from him.

  He felt something crumble inside him and wondered if she possessed some sort of supernatural power.

  She raked her nails down his scalp.

  Shock and need roared through his body.

  “Admit—”

  He covered her mouth with his and smashed her into the window.

  She didn’t care. She moaned and wrapped her arms around him tighter. Her legs went around him as well.

  He was going to take her. With a priest downstairs and his mother and friends waiting for him, he was going to have Irene right here and now.

  She turned her head away. She was panting. “Admit it.”

  “I want you.”

  “You love me.”

  “I… I need you, Irene.” He needed her and it was more than just physical. He wanted to own her. He hadn’t known just how much until this moment.

  She turned to him and cupped his jaw. Her eyes burned with all the dominance of a queen. “You love me.”

  He was spellbound. “I love you.” The words weren’t that painful to say. He waited for the guilt of lying to rise, but it never came. Perhaps guilt had decided to leave him alone for the moment.

  “Say it again,” she said. “Say it like you mean it. Say it from your heart.”

  He concentrated on her eyes. “You little minx.”

  She grinned.

  His heart beat loudly in his ears.

  “I love you,” he said. Something touched his heart. Was it guilt? The feeling was different. Odd. It left him restless.

  “I love you,” she replied, smiling.

  The restlessness settled. Though it was wrong, he liked the fact that she loved him. In the end, his fight to get her to agree to the match had little to do with protecting her and everything to do with simply having her for himself.

  “I’ll marry you,” she said, which further relaxed him. The frenzy he’d felt in his blood from earlier faded.

  * * *

  Clive was waiting for Irene at the top of the stairs when she finally emerged from the room. Even before she reached him, she noticed his nervousness.