Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance)

by Lisa Andersen

  She leaned forward in the chair and rested her head upon his chest. She could hear his heartbeat. It was quick, frantic. She breathed in the scent of him, and he laid his hand upon her head.

  They stayed like that for a long time.

  *****

  Three days passed in which she and Saul, when they met, held each other. There was nothing less innocent than that. He did not try anything dishonorable with her, and for that she was thankful. She had endured too much dishonor at the hands of her husband. She didn’t want to experience it at the hands of the man who had pulled her out of her shell. Sometimes, he would kiss the top of her head. But there was nothing salacious in it. It was about closeness. And Zita didn’t mind. It had been over a year since she’d felt close to another human being. Since she’d felt she could step outside of her cage.

  Maynard was so ill now that he could barely open his eyes. He just laid there, a sack of old, wrinkled flesh, breathing hollowly. The nurse would often try and reassure Zita that it was possible he would pull through. Zita was glad that the nurse was lying. After being with her husband for the appropriate amount of time, she left the depressing room and made her way to the library.

  Saul wasn’t there today. She started, and immediately dreadful thoughts filled her mind. Saul had left the Castle, had left her alone with the dying man. Saul was right now in the sickroom with Maynard, whispering in his ear everything he had learnt. When took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. And then she saw the single red rose upon the desk. Beside it was a folded piece of paper.

  She picked up the rose and unfolded the paper. Meet me in the gardens. S. She smiled to herself. With Maynard, she had never had any of this excitement. She had not even met him before her wedding day. Her parents had just carted her of like cattle. A thrill ran through her. She knew it was wrong, to meet Saul so openly in the gardens where the servants might see, but she no longer cared. If she was selfish for considering her own wellbeing now that she had the chance, then call her selfish.

  I won’t be his plaything any longer. Let me attend to myself for once.

  She made her way through the Castle and out into the startling spring sunlight. The flowers were like rainbows in the flowerbeds. She looked around the garden, and then saw Saul sitting on a bench at the far end. She breathed in the scent of the flowers. She didn’t think she’d breathed them in before. They had always been tainted by Maynard. Now, she could smell them for the first time.

  Saul rose when she met him.

  “I hope you do not think I am inappropriate, Zita,” he said.

  “Oh, you are,” Zita said. “But I don’t mind.”

  He let out a sigh of relief. Then he moved beside her and offered her his arm. “Would you care to walk with me?”

  Despite her conviction, Zita still looked around. She couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching.

  “We are not doing anything wrong,” he said. “Just a nephew and his aunt-in-law taking a walk.”

  “Aunt!”Zita could not help but giggle. “You are older than me.”

  “Yes, the world is a strange place.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Zita said, feeling like a lady for the first time in recent memory. “I will cast caution aside and take this walk with you.”

  She took his arm, and Saul led her away from the Castle, toward the private Bainmore woods. The Castle grew smaller and smaller in the background until Zita could cover it with her thumb. This was the furthest she had been away from the Castle since her marriage, since her imprisonment. The Castle had been her cage. It was a beautiful, well-furnished cage, but a cage all the same.

  “What are you thinking about?” Saul said, as they stopped at the edge of the words.

  “I am thinking that this is like a holiday for me. This is so far away from where I usually stray. It is as though we are in a different county.”

  Saul laughed. He often laughed at the jokes she made. At first, it had made Zita blush. She was so accustomed to being something to be laughed at, that when Saul had first laughed at her joke, she hadn’t known how to react. That was how seriously Maynard had warped her sense of self. But now when he laughed, she laughed with him, only blushing slightly.

  “Shall we walk?” he said, gesturing at the woods.

  Maynard would sleep for the whole day now. He only woke in the mornings, before the nurse gave him medicine to ease the pain, and then he slept again. For the first time in a long time, she was free to say, “Yes.”

  His arm felt firm and strong in hers. Holding onto that arm gave her strength. She found herself wishing that she could always hold onto his arm, that she never had to let it go. It was a silly, fanciful wish, but it came to her again and again. After the hell of Maynard, Saul was heaven.

  They walked until they came to a giant oak which had been here long before them. Saul sat on a log and smiled up at her. “I know it is not a divan, but it is comfortable enough.”

  Zita smiled and sat beside him. Their legs touched, and Zita felt something moved through her body. A desire she had not known she possessed. They sat in silence for a long time, like two nervous children, unable to look into each other’s eyes.

  “I’m nervous,” Saul said. He laughed, and then looked at her. “Are you nervous?”

  “Yes, and excited, but I don’t know why. Do you know why you are nervous?”

  “Yes, because I want to kiss you. Do you know why you’re excited?”

  “Now?Because you want to kiss me.”

  Zita knew that the words were wrong, that as a Duchess – as a lady, she should not be speaking them, and yet she could not help herself. Saul was so handsome, so nice, so different to what she had known. It was as though a painting existed of her life before he had arrived at Bainmore Castle. A stark, brutal painting. And now the artist had painted a reinterpretation, with Saul as the centerpiece. Her heart pounded in her chest with the illicitness of it, and yet she did not stop herself. She looked bravely into his eyes and parted her lips.

  “You may kiss me if you like,” she said.

  She put his hand on the back of her head and drew their lips together. They touched, and energy buzzed between them, moving through Zita’s body to her chest, warming her. The kiss was over quickly, and when it was done both of them looked away, embarrassed. But not ashamed.Zita licked her lip, savoring the taste of him.

  This is the most pleasure I have had in my life, she wanted to say. This kiss is the pinnacle of my pleasure. Thank you, Saul, for bringing me something other than pain.

  But she did not say that; she did not say anything. If she’d tried to talk, her words would have stuttered. Her frantic heartbeat choked her, stilled her words. When he met her eyes, she saw that there were tears in them. Wordlessly, she reached over and brushed the tears away.

  She took a deep breath and wet her lips. “Why are you crying?” she said, though tears had started in her eyes, too.

  “I never expected this,” he said. “When I came here on business, I never expected to feel like this.”

  “Neither did I,” Zita said. “Not in my wildest dreams.”

  “Are we evil, Zita, because we are glad an old man is dying?”

  Zita considered this. Her mind filled with the depravity of the past year, with the wicked things Maynard had made her to, with the wicked things he had done to her. She steeled herself. He would not take this from her. He would not steal this tiny piece of pleasure from her.

  “No,” she said. “We are not evil. We have done nothing wrong. It is him that has done the wrong. He struck you as a child. Do you imagine he has treated me any better?”

  Saul wiped his eyes and grinned weakly. “I am happiest when I am with you,” he said. “Is that mad? We have not known each other for long.”

  Zita shrugged. “Sometimes, I suppose,
it is not time that dictates us. It is circumstances.”

  “May I kiss you again?” Saul said.

  Zita nodded, and they shared another kiss. Longer, deeper. Urges awoke within Zita, urges that had been stifled and hidden for the longest time. His hands braced her shoulders, as though she would fall. When the kiss was over, they held each other, as they had done in the library countless times. Held each other against the evils of the world.Held the warmth and the glow between them.

  *****

  Five nights later, Zita awoke to a scratching at her door. She breathed quickly, frantically, as memories of other nights when the same sound at her door had pulled her from sleep. Is it possible? Is he better? Has he returned?She padded barefoot to the door and opened it. It was dark, and for a half-moment she thought the silhouette that greeted her was Maynard. But then her eyes focused, and she saw that it was Saul.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed, looking up and down the corridor.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to see you.”

  Part of her screamed that she should push him away, that this was unladylike, scandalous, awful. But another part – a stronger part – willed her to pull him into the room. It was the latter that won after a few lengthy seconds, in which time seemed to slow and the atmosphere became tense. She grabbed his hand, bare skin upon bare skin, and pulled him into her bedroom. She lit a candle and sat on the edge of the bed. She was wearing naught but her nightclothes, but this did not bother her. Not around Saul. He was no an animal like his uncle.

  “I am sorry,” he repeated. “I don’t know what came over me.” He laughed ruefully. “That is a lie. I do know what came over me. I woke from a beautiful dream. It was our day in the woods. When we kissed. Do you remember?”

  “Of course I remember, you silly man,” Zita smiled. “It was not that long ago.”

  “I’d feared you blotted it from your mind.”

  “I couldn’t if I tried.”

  He held his hands up. “I hope you know I am not here for any dishonorable reason.”

  “I wouldn’t have let you in if I thought you were.”

  He sighed, and rested his face in his hands. “I’ve killed men, Zita. You know that, don’t you?”

  “You were in France. I’d assumed as much.”

  “I was thinking … It sounds silly, but in 1816 – the same year you were married, I suppose – when I returned from the war, I pitied myself for what I did over there. I gave myself all the pity in the world. I wept, like a child, at the things I had had to do. Now, it seems strange to me. Now that I have met you, I cannot believe that I was so self-indulgent. You have had things done to you over which you had no control. Awful things. And there I was pitying myself, like surviving the war was something to be distraught about.”

  Zita nudged his leg with her hand. “And you came to my chambers in the middle of the night to tell me this?”

  “Yes.” He smiled again. His smile was the kind of smile that draws you in and makes you feel as though nothing bad will ever happen again. It was innocent and roguish and sweet at the same time. He touched her hand before she withdrew it from his knee. “I am a silly man, I know.”

  “You are,” Zita agreed. She grinned at him to show she was joking. “But I am glad you are here.”

  They said nothing for a time, and then Saul leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. His lips were warm, and left a comforting impression upon her skin. “What was that for?” she said.

  He shrugged. “Does there have to be a reason?”

  “You know that what we are doing is dangerous, don’t you?” Zita said, touching the skin where he had kissed her. “If anybody were to discover that we had kissed, that we were here together now …”

  “I know,” Saul said. “Yes, I know it. But I will not let it stop me. Will you?”

  Zita considered, and then shook her head. “No, I do not think I will.” She yawned, her tiredness returning.

  “I’m sorry,” Saul said. “I should go. I just wanted to see you.”

  He made to leave.

  “Wait,” Zita said. “Stay here for a while, just until I fall asleep.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Zita nodded. Without waiting to see if he would stay or leave, she climbed into bed, pulling the sheets around her. In a moment, Saul sat in the chair beside the bed. He gave her his hand, and she held it, feeling the security, the safety of it. Usually, nighttime was a wicked time, full of dread and nightmares. With his hand, she found she could sleep. It was a simply comfort, but it was invaluable.

  She kissed his hands in the moments before sleep took her entirely.

  When she awoke, just as the sun was beginning rise, she saw that he was asleep in the chair. She reached over and shook his knee. His eyes opened slowly, and when he saw her a sleep smile lifted his lips. “I should go,” he said. “Though I don’t want to.”

  “I know,” Zita said. “But we’ll be together again. Soon.”

  “I don’t want soon,” he replied as he rose to his feet. “I want forever.” He leaned down over her and kissed her softly upon the lips. She closed her eyes and let the kiss go on, until she wished it would never end. But it did, and then she was left alone.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, she wished he was back in here with her.

  I love you, she thought, staring at the door. I love you, Saul. You are the only man I have ever loved.

  *****

  Zita had to sit with Maynard in his last moments. It would have looked strange otherwise. There was nothing that could be done. The nurse made offered her condolences even before she left the room. Zita had expected to feel joyous as the man died, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything for him. Her mind went back to when she had first met him, on their wedding day. He had leaned forward after the vows had been exchanged and whispered in her ear, his breath thick with wine. “I own you now,” he’d said, loud enough for the vicar to hear. “You are mine.”

  Nobody had stopped him. It had carried on. And she’d found herself in this loveless marriage.But now he was dying, right before her, and she was free from him. She didn’t smile, or cry. She didn’t show any emotion at all. She just watched as the last of his life wilted out of him, and then she left the room.

  “He is gone,” she told the nurse. “Make the arrangements for his body to be moved.”

  The nurse nodded quickly and paced away to carry out the orders.

  There was no question of where Zita would go now. There was only one place she could go. She went to Saul. She found him in the library, leaning over a book the two of them had been reading together. She sat next to him and looked down at the words.

  “Is he gone?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Zita said, her voice oddly calm. “He’s dead.”

  Saul nodded and turned back to the book.

  “What now?” he said, after a pause.

  “We can be together,” Zita said. “That’s what.”

  “Marriage?”

  Zita nodded. “If it would please you.”

  He shut the book and faced her. He laid his hands on her face, on her cheeks, and pulled her to him. His lips had never been more welcome. “I love you, Zita,” he said. “I have fallen in love with you. Of course I wish you to be my wife. Nothing would please me more.”

  Zita let the words wash over her, let them wrap around her. Here was a man with whom she could gladly spend her life. A kind man.A gentle man. The kind of man who would never dream of doing the things Maynard had done.

  “We’ll have to see how the will turns out,” Zita said. “He may have cut me out of everything.”

  “Thank God you had no children together,” Saul said.

  Zita nodded her agreement. “I don’t think he was able,” she said quietly. “It i
s one blessing, at least.” She ran her nails along the desk. “If he has given me the estate, we will have to wait an appropriate amount of time until we marry.”

  “I know.” Saul nodded. “That doesn’t trouble me. I can still live here, still be with you. There is nothing in society that says a nephew cannot comfort his aunt in her time of need.”

  Zita grinned and nudged him playfully. “I really wished you’d stop calling me that.”

  “Don’t worry,” Saul said. “If all goes well, I will be able to call you my wife.”

  *****

  Maynard gave her nothing in the will. He gave everything to some obscure cousin of his, another old man, who had moved to Scotland before Zita was born. She had expected this, and yet it still shocked her. Even from the grave, he could not grant her a small mercy. She was in her bedroom – which was no longer truly her bedroom – when Saul entered behind her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck.

  “He was a cruel man,” Saul said. “We expected this.”

  “My parents are devastated,” Zita muttered. “In their letter they strongly insinuated that I must have done something to deserve this. He was a reasonable man, they said, and would not have cut me out of the will for nothing. They are furious. They expect me home within the week. It is quite a scandal for them.” Zita was unable to keep the mirth out of her voice.

  “You don’t seem devastated,” Saul said, his breath tickling her neck.

  “They sold me to him like cattle,” she said. “Now they can feel one tenth of what I have had to endure this past year.”

  She felt Saul smile, felt the curving of his lips against her skin. “I suppose you must return, then. And we will never see each other again. Ah, what a horrid ending to a horrid play. Oh, well, my love. I suppose I will see you again, someday.”

  “Do you enjoy making me nervous?” Zita said, turning in his arms and facing him. “Does it bring you pleasure?”

  “No,” he said seriously. “Jokes aside, I know what we are going to do now.”

  “And what is that, my lord?”

  He raised his eyebrows, as though he didn’t understand the question. “We will marry, of course,” he said. “You and I, Zita, will become husband and wife. You don’t need to go to your parents’ house. Not now. Not ever if you don’t want to. I don’t want to rule you. I am sick of that paradigm. Let’s make our own paradigm.”