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

by Deborah Wilson

  He took her hands and forced her to look at him. His expression was pensive. “I don’t wish to hear that you are sorry. I wish to know what is wrong. Why are you crying? What’s the matter? Where is Cassius?”

  She sniffed. “Cass is sick.”

  His features softened. “Is that why you’re crying? Out of concern for your cousin?”

  She made a decision and nodded. She lied. There was no more truth between them. The whole foundation of their marriage was a lie, the making of her own imagination.

  He’d told her he hadn’t taken the hairpin for money. She’d have rather he had.

  She wanted to speak to Olivia. She wanted to verify his story but didn’t know how. She was trapped in this house with him.

  She didn’t want to be near him right now. “Can I get up, please?”

  He righted them both at once and Irene stood and moved away. She kept her back to Clive.

  “I wish to see my cousin.” The hour had passed. It was too late to continue painting. She wondered why Lucy hadn’t come for her.

  Clive’s arm went around her waist. “Of course. I’ll take you to see him.”

  She moved away from him and toward the door. “No, it’s best I go alone. You’re a man. He’d likely not enjoy a man being around him during a state of weakness.”

  “I suppose.” She could hear the suspicion in his voice.

  She looked at him and braved a smile. “Welcome back.” Then she fled the room.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  5 7

  * * *

  Cass was in his room resting in bed. He looked ill and angry because of it. “It must have been something I ate, or perhaps it is the city. It does not agree with me.”

  Irene locked the door and then sat at his side. She covered his hand with her own. “You’ll get better.”

  “Why are you crying?”

  She took her hand back. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “All right.” He looked away. “Would you like to talk about anything?”

  She sighed. “Not really.”

  “Very well. You may stay as long as you wish.”

  She was surprised by his generous offer. She wondered if he knew she was hiding from someone. She simply needed time to think. Cass was giving that to her. He didn’t mind the quiet. He likely preferred it.

  And so, they stayed that way for a time.

  * * *

  Clive told himself that nothing was wrong. As he spoke with the other men about his trip to the country, he decided that Irene’s tears had been for her cousin and that the memory of her repeatedly pulling away from him was a lie.

  Yet, he couldn’t help but know otherwise. She’d never pulled away from him before. Not without reason. That thought kept ringing in his head. He’d try and touch her again. The moment he saw her, he would reach out for her. Then he would know the truth.

  “I didn’t find the book,” Clive said.

  “Clearly.” James groaned.

  Kent leaned forward in his chair and covered his face with his hands before he moved them back and threaded his fingers through his hair. “It’s been a week and Crow has yet to come after his daughter.”

  “And the wives are no longer amused by her presence,” Marley said. “Clive was right. She’s a snake. She told Selena there is a chance I have another child somewhere in London, created during my rakish years.”

  Clive felt his eyes bulge. “It that true?”

  Marley glared at him. “How am I supposed to know? I slept with plenty of women before I married Selena. None of them approached me about a child. Should I canvas the city in inquiry? I’m sure doing so will get me the truth.” Likely not. He was a duke. Any nameless child would be called his by the end of the hunt.

  James cursed. “I didn’t know she’d said anything to anyone else. Alice brought up the fact that I’d once said I preferred blondes. Now Kim is worried that I’ll leave her for a fair-haired woman.”

  A terrible feeling started in Clive’s gut. What had Alice said to Irene?

  It had be the hairpin.

  “I want her gone,” Clive said.

  “But where?” James asked.

  “I don’t care.” Clive’s senses were heightened as panic swarmed him. “But I want her gone before she chases one of our wives away.”

  “I’m sure that’s her plan,” Marley said, ever suspicious of anyone and everyone. “She’s trying to make one of the wives upset enough to leave the house.”

  “Then she was a trap,” Kent said.

  “So what do we do?” Clive asked. “Who is watching her now?”

  “Garrick,” James said.

  “Move her to the attic,” Kent said. “We’ll keep her there for now.”

  No one protested.

  The door opened and Cass came in. Irene followed him, hovering like a mother bird.

  Cass turned to her. “I’m feeling all right.” He turned to the others. “Forgive me. I felt strange earlier. I’ve never been so strangely ill in my life.”

  Clive swallowed and prayed Irene looked at him.

  She did, and her smile was gentle before she came to stand by him.

  He wrapped his arms around her before she could change her mind and placed a kiss to her hair. He inhaled her divine scent before he pulled away. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. Her eyes still seemed troubled, but she placed a hand on his chest. “I… missed you, too.”

  Her words were a balm to his worried soul. He took her hand and kissed it. “I missed you more.”

  Her smile widened and then she rested her head on his chest.

  He’d worried for nothing. He still had his wife. She wouldn’t leave him. He kept an arm around her as the men spoke.

  “Was Alice around when you fell ill?” James asked Cass.

  At the mention of Alice’s name, Irene straightened, but she didn’t move away from Clive.

  “She was. She’s been serving my tea all morning. I thought…” Cass shook his head. “No, I should have known better. There is something off putting about her. Something strange about her behavior.”

  “Then why did you let her so close if that was the case?” Marley asked.

  “She is fun in bed,” Cass said plainly.

  Clive watched Irene blink rapidly before her cheeks became flushed. “I’ll take my wife to the receiving room and tell Garrick our new plan.”

  “Come back when you’re finished,” Kent said. “There will be more.”

  Clive closed the door and grabbed his wife’s hand as they started down the hall.

  “What is the plan?” Irene asked.

  “We’re locking Alice in the attic.” He looked at Irene. “Apparently, she’s said something to almost everyone’s wife. She’s working to divide us.”

  Irene eyes flickered wider. “If that is the case, then why is she here? Send her home.”

  “No, we need to draw her father out of hiding.” Clive said.

  “I hadn’t asked why she was here,” Irene said. “I assumed you’d bought her for her own protection.”

  Clive shook his head. “But now that you mention it, I’m sure that’s what her father believes to be the reason we took her. He must suspect none of us would actually hurt her and since we won’t, we have to find other means.”

  “What other means?” Irene asked.

  He stopped them in the hall and pressed her against the wall. “What did Alice say to you?”

  “What?” Irene asked. “Nothing.”

  He tilted his head. “Irene, I know she said something. She’s been sowing doubt in everyone’s mind and upon my arrival, you didn’t seem pleased to see me.” He lifted her chin. “Tell me what she said.”

  “She said my father hired all the artists from the Academy and France to paint me. They hadn’t been interested on their own.”

  Clive felt pain shoot through his gut and nearly sever his spine. “You believed that?”

  Irene gave a weak smile. “It’s true, Clive. Why e
lse would they have come? Honestly, I suspected at much.”

  Clive hiked her chin up further. “Well, your father didn’t hire me. Do you know why I wish you to be painted?”

  “Because the others were destroyed?” she guessed.

  He scoffed. “You only believe that because you don’t believe yourself to be the most beautiful woman I know.”

  “Clive, please don’t. That was already been proven otherwise” She tried to move away, but he trapped her with his body.

  “You’re the only woman I want, Irene,” he whispered.

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m certain that’s not true.”

  Surprised, he grabbed her jaw and forced her eyes on him. “It is true. You have no idea what you do for me and how you’ve changed me. Physically, with you in my bed, I’m happy. Mentally, I’m more whole. Spiritually….” He glared at her indifference.

  “My father’s estate isn’t that far away,” she said. “It shouldn’t have taken you so many days.”

  He pressed his body against hers. “Do you want to know why it took me so long to get back to you? I did something nice. Your friends, Lord Walter and Lady Milly, were about to sell their property because they were poor. They were going to lose everything. I found a way to save them, to keep them in their home, and in a few years, the land will be Walter’s again. That’s why I wasn’t here earlier.”

  Irene’s eyes were round. “You bought the Parker land?”

  “I did.”

  “It’s the most coveted piece of property near my father,” Irene said.

  “It’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Their home is a sore upon the landscape.”

  Irene shook his head. “For years, my father tried to buy from them. Walter sold it to you, and you intend to let him earn it back?”

  “Every acre.”

  She smiled gently. “That’s very sweet of you. I’m very proud of you.”

  “Prove it.” He hungered for her terribly, but a kiss would do for now.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her dark eyes begged him for something. He didn’t know what. He hoped it was a kiss, because that’s what he gave her. He had to still his hard body from grinding into her soft one.

  But his wife became bold. A whimper slipped from her lips and then her small frame was writhing against his.

  “I missed you, Irene,” he growled. “Every second of every day.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  Those were the words he needed to hear. He placed his hands on her hips and slowly stepped away. Their mouths broke last.

  Clive cupped her cheeks. “We’ll continue this later.”

  She nodded. She wore a smile. Her expression was still dazed as she took his hand before they entered the receiving room.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  5 8

  * * *

  Alice’s outrage rang through the house for almost an hour before the men moved her from the attic into the basement. There, the stone walls contained most of her noise, but if one strained hard enough from the dining room, she could still be heard.

  She’d become another person when she realized Garrick was not taking her to a place where their bodies could be acquainted with one another. All the women had seen the look in her eyes when Garrick had held his hand out for her and left the room.

  When Nora had made a move to join them, Garrick had held his hand up, telling his wife to stay.

  Nora had seemed hurt by the action, but Clive had explained once the door was closed.

  “She’s being locked away,” Clive said.

  “Thank the Lord,” Lucy sighed. “Kent’s mother is the only woman I dislike more.”

  The screaming started a second after that statement.

  Nora laughed, but then straightened her features and reached for her tea. “What a tragedy.”

  Irene wanted to feel bad for her, but she had a feeling Alice had been behind Cass’ sickness. If what Clive said was true, if Alice had whispered terrible things to all the women, then only Irene was left. Aside from the maid who slept in her room when Clive was away, Cass would never have left her side during the day.

  Unless he couldn’t help but to do so.

  When Clive left the room, Selena, Nora, Kim, and Lucy had shared the vile things Alice had whispered when she managed to get one of them alone. All of it had been terrible. Irene had begun to question of authenticity of what Alice had told her, but deep down, she knew it was true. She remembered the way Clive used to float around Olivia. Every man did. She was beautiful in a sensually soft way.

  She couldn’t have chosen a better way to hurt Irene.

  The women had all agreed that if Alice knew how to hurt every woman in the house, she’d likely learned it all from her father, which made the possibility of a book all the more likely.

  “What now?” Selena asked from her place at the head of the dining table. Her words pierced Irene’s musing. Everyone was silent. An ominous tension was in the air. Alice’s venom had poisoned the day.

  Everyone was aware of what the men hunted for, yet it had all been discussed in private and never in front of Alice, though they were certain she’d been aware of what they wanted as well.

  Clive sighed. “I don’t know. The clues we had have led us nowhere.”

  Kent looked at Cass. “Did Van Dero leave you any other letters?”

  Cass shook his head. “I gave Irene what I had.”

  “What about you?” Kent was speaking to Irene. “Did your father leave you any notes? Anything that would lead to the book?”

  She laughed without humor. “He’d have never left me the book. It would have been useless in my hands. I’d have burned it at the first chance. Besides, he never had to leave me a letter. I was there while he was dying.” She sighed, recalling how weak her father had looked before he’d taken his last breath. “He’d told me everything he wanted me to know.”

  “Which was?” Clive asked.

  She shrugged. “Take care of myself. Bend to no one.”

  Kent grunted but made no other comment.

  Irene thought some more and then smiled before she looked at Clive. “He told me who not to marry if I decided to wed one day.” Had her father been right to warn her away from Clive.

  Clive took her hand under the table. “I’m very glad you were so disobedient.”

  She smiled and wondered if the past could simply be the past and if it was all right for her to move on. Clive made her so happy.

  “Anything else?” Kent cut in impatiently.

  “Kent,” Lucy chastised.

  He glared at her, but then looked back at his plate. Most of the tension in the air was coming from him. He was tense. Clive still hadn’t told her why Kent wanted the book more than anyone else. Irene feared he planned to use it.

  He was a powerful man and had the reputation of a brute.

  Kent caught her staring. “What?”

  Irene shook her head. “You’re very upset about this book. A part of me wonders what your plan is if you find it?”

  “If I find it, I burn it,” he declared. “My name is in that book.”

  She’d barely began to wonder what it said when he told her, “I’m a bastard.”

  “Kent!” Lucy looked shocked. Then she turned to Cass and Irene. They were the only people at the meal who didn’t know. Then she looked at her husband and grabbed his arm. “Kent, stop this.”

  But the secret was out. “My father wasn’t my father. My brother is the rightful heir to the title.”

  Lucy tried to get him to quiet then she tried to comfort him, but it seemed no use.

  Clive tightened his hold of her hand. “You can’t tell anyone, Irene.”

  “Why not?” Kent asked. “The whole of London is bound to find out eventually.”

  Irene recalled something else her father had said. “My father mentioned that you weren’t what you seemed. I thought he was speaking about your violent nature, but… He told me to stay away from all of you, especial
ly Clive, but… I’m glad I didn’t listen to him. There is something good here.” She looked at all of them, including Clive. “While I loved my father and brother, we were never a family. This is my family. I will do what I must to protect it.”

  Kent stared at her. The menace in his green gaze cooled. Then he turned to Cass. “And you? What say you?”

  “Irene and Clive are the first people to ever call me family since my parents’ death. I go where they go.” His expression lacked warmth, yet Irene felt truth in him.

  She reached over and took Cass’ hand as well, but her cousin didn’t look at her. Kent was not done with him.

  “Don’t you feel morally obligated to tell the courts the truth?” Kent asked.

  “Moral? Does it work instinctively? It is like good or bad? Either way, it is something I am learning as I go through life. I had a governess who once told me to find a person everyone thought was good and do as they did. I have found Irene. She is, by almost everyone’s definition, kind. If she will keep her silence then so will I.”

  The responsibility Irene felt that at very moment weighed on her. She tightened her hands on both Clive and Cass.

  “And if Irene decides she doesn’t like me come morning?” Kent asked.

  Cass blinked. “That would be very unfortunate.”

  Kent grinned. “For me or for you?”

  “You.” Cass’ voice held a finality in it that sent a shiver through Irene and cooled the temperature in the room.

  Kent’s chuckle held malice.

  “Kent,” Lucy sked and then turned to Cass. “Leave him be, Your Grace. Kent is looking for a fight at the moment as a means for distraction. Don’t give it to him.”

  Irene looked at everyone at the table and once again thought about her father’s warning before he died. He’d told her to stay away from them, and yet even Kent’s anger didn’t make Irene feel unsafe.

  Yet her father thought she would be, and she understood why. The book. His own evil creation and the fact that her father had been the one to lock them away. If anything, they should hate Irene, but they didn’t. They trusted her enough to share their problems with her.

  Her father had held her hand and spoken of them as though they were the villains, but he’d been the monster.