Finally, she stopped, her sight so impaired she couldn’t tell what direction she ran and what, if anything, lay in front of her.
Arms, muscular and secure, instantly wrapped around her, pulling her close—Marcus’s sandalwood scent invaded her every sense, bringing with it a calm she felt whenever she was near him.
“Aloria, my dearest,” Marcus cooed. “My love. Hush, please. I am sorry. Anything I can do to make things right, I will. I will leave now, never bother you again, but please do not cry.” He said all the wrong words now. “I will take you home. Everything will be fine.”
Now, she didn’t know if she cried because he’d finally told her all the things she’d wanted to hear, or mourned the thought of a life without him.
He couldn’t go. In no way did she want to be deprived of him.
“Then why did you continue with your ruse?” His answer held the possibility of breaking her heart all over again.
“I could not—would not—appear less of a man before you,” he confided in a whisper. “I never intended for you to know how far my title and estate had fallen into disrepair. It was my responsibility to fix all within my power…or be resigned to debtors’ prison.”
“You would rather live in the harsh nature of Newgate than admit to me you wanted me solely for my inheritance?”
“That was the farthest thought from my mind after we met.” His arms tightened once more about her. “I fear I cannot put into words the way you make me feel—but it is as if nothing else matters but knowing you are here, and that you’ll always be by my side. I prayed the day would never come that I would have to tell you why I’d originally set my sights on you, but I now know what a mistake that was.”
“I would have heard your plight, and together we could have found a way.” She wanted to hold him for as long as she could—clutch him tight and never let go. But too soon, his arms loosened and he stepped back—or did he push her from him?
It didn’t matter because his eyes were on her. Deep, brown, honey-colored depths—trained on her.
Instinctively, Aloria tilted her chin slightly up—and his lips were on hers, possessively.
And she realized, her resistance to him had been futile.
His siege was destined to succeed the moment they’d met—and her instinct about him was surely right.
She wanted him—and everything that came with it.
Aloria sank into him, his mouth drawing all the hurt, pain, and anguish from her and leaving nothing but the promise of better things to come.
It was her turn to push him away, as much as she dreaded the act. Her hands moved between them, pushing at his chest, giving her space to say what needed to be said.
“Marcus, I cannot know how it happened, or even when, but I love you.” It was the simplest thing to say, not a single catch. “I love you now, and somehow, I even loved you before.”
Sometimes there are no words to express what you feel—it is actions that speak volumes.
And in that moment, nothing screamed I love you louder than Marcus’s actions.
One moment, she was on the dock, professing her love…and the next, she was in his arms, their mouths locked once more, sealing their fate.
Epilogue
Marcus, her dear, sweet, attentive husband of a mere few weeks, pushed the door to his—their—London townhouse wide and stood back, allowing her entrance.
“Should you not carry me over the threshold?” Aloria teased.
“I’ve carried you over every threshold from here to my country estate and back. Remember the inn in Bath?” He set aside the large, awkward package he’d guarded their entire journey. “Why would today be any different?”
She readied herself, dreaming her body less proportioned, and therefore lighter on him. With little effort, Marcus swept her into his arms and stepped across the threshold—and into the place they’d decided to call home, at least until after Delilah and Canterbourne were wed next season.
Setting her down, Marcus nodded to the package tied securely with thick brown paper and twine. “Can we please open it now? The suspense is fairly killing me.”
Aloria eyed the gift given to them on their wedding morning by her parents—well, mostly her mother. She wanted to wait to open it until they’d settled into life, traveled to his country estate, and returned to town. By then—which was now—Aloria hoped she’d have inserted herself into his life so genuinely he couldn’t imagine living without her.
Then she would untie the twine and reveal her final secret.
“Are you sure you do not wish to eat before we start unpacking and settling in?”
“We ate with your parents only moments ago,” he said. “Now, we open that. Do you not want to see what your parents gave you for our wedding day?”
Aloria had spent years trying to unsee the image hidden within the wrapping, and she would save his eyes for as long as possible. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“No.” Marcus grabbed the cumbersome package and carried it to a small table. With all the delicacy she knew he could muster, he set it down flat, then pulled the twine free. “I cannot wait. Even more intriguing is your reluctance. So now it is, my love.”
Aloria’s cheeks heated, imagining his expression when the twine came free and the paper was folded back. “Really, Marcus, this can wait.” She grabbed for his hand as he pulled the paper back, a note falling to the floor at their feet.
He snatched the card from the ground. “It is addressed to you, the Duchess of Wolfeton. I rather like the sound of that.”
She took the envelope; her mother’s swirling print covered the parchment and her wax seal fastened the note.
With uneasy fingers, Aloria broke the imprint and unfolded the letter within.
My dearest Aloria,
I know this letter finds you—and your new husband—at a time of great joy. This package holds all I’ve ever wanted for you in life. You were not named for Lady Aloria because you were a plump baby, although that explanation worked for a time, but because I had hoped you’d be like her. She lived her life without regret, nor fear of consequences, which enabled her to be happy. In a time when women were only objects and the station of their husbands dictated everything, Lady Aloria, a bastard child, who in her girlhood fell in love with a man destined to be out of her reach, befriended a Queen. And while I cannot confirm many details from her time, she knew a love beyond all that her station should have allowed.
You may wonder why this horrid portrait—yes, even I know it is horrid—means so much to me. It is simply because Aloria had the confidence and fortitude to commission it. It didn’t matter that it was never given to the man she thought herself in love with, de Wolfe, who it was rumored to have been commissioned for. She threw caution to the wind and did exactly as she wanted.
There is much I longed to do with my life. Unfortunately, we both know I have not experienced any of it…but you, my child—
Aloria glanced heavenward to stall the tears that blurred her vision.
“Aloria, is all as it should be?” Marcus asked with alarm.
Nodding, she went back to reading.
…but you, my child, have never let the circumstances of your birth, and the subsequent betrayals and scandals, dampen your excitement for life. I envy that greatly.
In short, my Aloria, your Wolfe has come for you—do not let him go as Lady Aloria did. Together there is nothing the pair of you cannot attain; a long happy life is guaranteed.
With my fondest love
~Mother
Aloria raised her gaze to the man beside her—his hair longer than was proper, his shoulders broad from the labors on his estate, his eyes keen with knowledge, and his arms outstretched, calling her to him.
Yes, he was her Wolfe.
And there would never be a day she would let him go.
“I love you,” he whispered. Leaning down to take her lips, he paused. “And I will never let you go, either.”
She hadn’t spoken aloud, yet he knew h
er thoughts.
Marriage—and a life with her Wolfe—would be a glorious thing.
And the painting could most certainly wait until tomorrow.
Also by Christina McKnight
Shunned No More, A Lady Forsaken (Book One)
Forgotten No More, A Lady Forsaken (Book Two)
Scorned Ever More, A Lady Forsaken (Book Three)
Hidden No More, A Lady Forsaken (Book Four)
About the Author
Christina McKnight is a book lover turned writer. From a young age, her mother encouraged her to tell her own stories. She’s been writing ever since. Currently, she focuses on historical romance, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance.
Christina enjoys a quiet life in Northern California with her family, her wine, and lots of coffee. Oh, and her books . . . don’t forget her books! Most days, she can be found writing, reading, or traveling the great state of California.
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Author’s Notes
Thank you for reading The Siege of Lady Aloria.
If you enjoyed The Siege of Lady Aloria or any of my other books, be sure to write a brief review at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Goodreads.
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P O Box 1017
Patterson, CA 95363
www.ChristinaMcKnight.com
Check out my website for giveaways, book reviews, and information on my other projects,
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Acknowledgments
Firstly, a HUGE thank you to KATHRYN LE VEQUE for inviting me into her DE WOLFE PACK World! I never imagined creating a story based around another writer’s characters could be so thrilling. The time I’ve spent with all the writers in Kathryn’s Kindle World has been truly enlightening…what a powerful group of writers!
I’d like to thank all the people who believed I could get this project completed in such a short time. You never gave up on me! Especially Marc McGuire, Lauren Stewart, Kathryn Le Veque, Angie with TwinsieTalk Book Reviews, and Debbie Haston (my super awesome group leader). You have all been very patient and wonderfully supportive of my eccentric ways.
A very special thank you to my editor, Chelle Olson with Literally Addicted to Detail. I look forward to many future endeavors with you. Chelle Olson can be contacted by email at [email protected].
Cover art credit to Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs.
The Siege of Lady Aloria_World of de Wolfe Pack Page 11