by Laura Hogg
"You won fairly, Mr. Wright,” she said.
Lord Cheltham crouched and offered his free hand. Shaky, she took it, and allowed him to help her to a seated position.
"Something is amiss.” He sat on the cold floor, next to her, his legs bent, and one arm resting over a knee.
"My mind is on other matters."
"Raphael, I concede."
She stood up abruptly, rubbing her jaw. Makeup would cover up a forming bruise nicely. “You cannot do that!"
This is the real world, not some gentleman's club. He knocked me out. He won-period. It doesn't matter how. Out there, if I lie unconscious on the street, I would be a big loser indeed.
He jumped up as well. “I can do it. You are the better fighter."
"Do not do this to impress Relief!"
"I do not. I am an honest man,” he said calmly.
"You can fight.” She grabbed his forearm.
"I know. You can fight better, Raphael."
"Where did your arrogance go?” She lowered her hand to her side.
"I lost it when I lost my heart. Well maybe not right away.” He grinned. “I lost it when she fell in love with me. When she came to me, I was ... humbled, knocked off my high-horse.” A faraway look crossed his eyes.
"Not overcome with pride at having won her affections?"
"No. I was shocked that I could be so fortunate."
"I see.” Love squeezed her heart and wouldn't let go.
"Besides, Raphael, to change the subject, before the fight, I convinced the judges that the loser of this fight would be the one to go against the stranger from Asia. I assumed it would probably be me, even though I would give an honest fight."
"Are you mad?"
"Apparently, according to Relief."
"He will kill you!” She bent over, strangled with fear and heartache so bad she stumbled. She saw him lying in a coffin, and the idea shook her senseless.
"Raphael?” He touched her shoulder.
She took a big gulp of air, held out her hand and stood up.
"I am inclined to disagree, lad. I have plenty of motivation to win this."
"Do not try to protect me too, Cheltham!” Good God, I will not let that monster near you! I have years of Asian fighting experience. You have months.
"I am not trying to protect you! He shot my woman. It is my right, Raphael. I know what he did to her in Asia. He ... he put his dirty hands around her neck. It is my right.” He went tight as a bow.
Her stomach churned with terror for him. “I need air. Go home, Cheltham and give me some space."
I need to figure something out and fast.
He gazed at her with suspicion and strode across the room and out the door.
* * * *
When the Moore family stepped into the entrance hall of Honora and Relief's home, Lord Cheltham was there, by his intended's side, and Mrs. Miller watched from a few feet behind. Relief's parents and two older brothers greeted them with great warmth. Hugs and kisses were exchanged. The eldest Mr. Moore, a tall, handsome dark-haired man, broke out into something Italian and Relief joined him in song. Everyone in the room smiled, including the bodyguard who had more of a smirk on his face. Mr. Moore placed his arm around his daughter's shoulders as they sang.
When they finished, everyone cheered and applauded.
"Ah, my beloved Relief, that was beautiful!” Lord Cheltham said. He had been leaning against the hearth mantel with his arms crossed over his chest. He lowered them and clapped.
Mr. Moore looked him over carefully.
"We have been singing together since she was two. She was the one with talent, I dare say. You are a finely dressed fellow. Whom might you be, gracing the home of my beautiful daughters?"
"Father, this is his lordship, Lord Cheltham, a Viscount. Or in America, he would be known as Mr. Benjamin Wright."
"They don't all use their surnames in their titles, Daddy,” Honora stated.
He graced her with a loving look. “I know, my dear."
Relief faced Lord Cheltham now. “My lord, may I present my father Theodore Moore, my mother, Esther Moore, and my two brothers, Daniel and Raphael Moore."
Lord Cheltham threw her a deeply confused look. She gave him a warning glance, begging him to ask later. He took in a long breath and held his hand out to Mr. Moore.
"My pleasure, sir. I am to be married to your daughter, Relief, very shortly, that is, with your permission, of course."
Mr. Moore raised his brows. “You're a Viscount?” He looked over at Relief. “I never expected that you would fall for a stuffy nobleman, my dear Leafy."
"He is not stuffy, Father. He is actually a talented fighter,” Honora chimed in.
"Oh really? Leafy, my sweet, I have one question before I give you my blessing."
"Father?” She looked at him with the greatest of respect warming her heart.
"Do you love him?” He looked at her intently.
Relief returned the earnestness in his gaze, and her eyes stung with tears. She couldn't lie. She practically whispered. “Yes, there can be no doubt."
"Then as long as he checks out, you have my blessing. Congratulations!” he exclaimed.
Lord Cheltham's face lit up. His countenance brightened the room. He touched his chest and lightly bowed.
"I am deeply honored, sir. I assure you, your daughter has my lasting devotion. I will love her and protect her with my dying breath."
"Well, well, well, it seems you chose wisely, my little Leafy. I am very pleased. You, my sweet, need a strong man."
Leafy felt the sting of her tears but fought them. Leafy's mother pulled her into an embrace.
"Oh, Leafy, I am pleased for you! He is so handsome, and charming! Surely you are thrilled!"
Relief trembled in her mother's arms. Her brothers shook Lord Cheltham's hand.
The muscular Raphael Moore spoke up. “Hurt her, and I will kill you."
Lord Cheltham smiled. “I would expect no less."
"That goes for me as well,” Daniel, taller, but thinner, said seriously.
Lord Cheltham nodded his acknowledgement to Daniel.
After dinner, Mr. Moore, Daniel and Raphael were enjoying cigars and after dinner drinks with Lord Cheltham. The women were at the far end of the room, chatting. Relief couldn't help but to often glance over at her future groom. Esther, a short, blond woman looked at her daughter with a proud smile.
"We have missed you girls. We would be with you here, but—"
"It is quite all right, Mother. We understand that you have a business to run."
"You are about to become a noblewoman, Leafy."
"I do not care."
"It is love,” Esther said. “There is something dashed heroic about him, Leafy."
"Yes.” She almost spilled out her concerns to her mother, but she couldn't. Not without worrying her to no end.
The evening went well. The girls saw their family members to their rooms for the evening. Relief saw Lord Cheltham to the front door. The house was quiet, so she kept her voice low.
"Good evening, my lord."
"Relief,” he said and looked at her tenderly. “Your family is quite charming. I have questions, though. I was a good deal surprised to discover the names of your brothers."
"Thank you for not saying anything earlier."
"Of course, my love. I need hardly tell you that I am your protector. And that includes protecting your secrets."
She gave him a tender look. “My lord—"
"Benjamin, call me Benjamin, or ‘my love'.” He smiled. “Americans use first names, do they not?"
"Benjamin, the night you were drunk, that was not Daniel of course. It was ... someone else."
"I gathered that much."
"Raphael—"
"Yes, kindly explain that to me. Who the devil is my best friend?"
"Benjamin, if you will agree to permit me a pass on that question this evening, I will give you a gift."
"Oh?” The intrigue was apparent in his voice.
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"Yes."
"What would that be, owner of my heart?"
"A kiss."
He smiled. “Number four."
"Yes, number four.” She touched his chest softly and leaned to place her lips on his. When she was a breath away, he closed his eyes and stood stiff.
"Leafy,” he breathed out.
She parted her lips and kissed him. His warm lips opened and love rushed her. She wanted this, in her heart. She lingered over the kiss, wanting to taste him more deeply, but she kept it simple. When she pulled away, his eyes remained closed and his lips parted.
"Oh God, Relief, I fancy this is going to be a trifle harder than I had anticipated."
"For me, too."
His eyes snapped open. A slow grin spread across his face.
"I am going to slay a dragon for you. I am going to be your romantic knight. I can change your mind, Relief. You may not need a rescuer, but you will want one."
"Benjamin?"
"Yes?” he said.
"You are fog-brained."
"Perhaps,” he said then chuckled.
"Benjamin?"
"Yes, darling?"
"I am fond of you."
"Ah, what wonderful words, my lovely American."
"Benjamin?"
He chuckled again and touched her forearm. “Yes?"
"Your friend stole the diamond."
His smile turned immediately into a firm line. “He had to have done this when your uncle was at an auction in New York with his personal stash. I am deeply disappointed. Lord Whittingham didn't need the money."
"It is one of the world's loveliest diamonds, featured in catalogs."
"Whittingham loves beautiful things,” he said.
"You know what this means."
"Yes.” He frowned intently.
"He was the one who harassed me. He is the reason I came to London."
"I suppose I should be grateful for that, except for what he did to you and your family."
"My lord, he either used my sister to get to me and still has designs on me, or he decided that if he couldn't have me, he would have my sister."
"If he ever goes near you or your sister again, I will call him out."
"We should turn him in for theft. We can now prove ownership of the diamond finally in our possession. I have the papers at last. My father brought them."
"We cannot prove that he ever had the diamond, but he doesn't know that. He has left town."
"What?"
"He has packed up and left."
"Oh."
"Beloved, on the morrow I will call on you, if you will have me."
"I will have you, Benjamin."
"You make me so happy, Relief. When you are my wife, I am going to spend my time making your life a dream."
"There's nothing I would want more, but I can't."
"Why, Relief, pray tell me, why?” He placed the back of his fingers against her cheek.
"I will never tell you. It would mean my death."
He scowled so deeply that she was taken aback.
"Nothing could exceed my desire to discover the truth."
His tipped an imaginary hat to her and left.
Seventeen
The Viscount paced the floor of a darkly masculine drawing room, hands fisted.
"Father, you must stop my sister's wedding!"
The earl, whom the Viscount strongly resembled, stood watching his son, scowling at him.
"I will not! Do not ask me again!"
Lord Cheltham stopped and turned to face his cold father. He parted his lips but didn't speak.
"Out with it, boy!"
"Father, will the day arrive that you cease to hold me in contempt?"
The earl scoffed. “Will the day arrive when I look at you and don't feel the sting of disappointment?"
The Viscount squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply. “I can never atone for what I did.” He opened his eyes. “But Father, it was not intended. I love Joan."
"You should have stayed in America, out of my sight. Why, you no longer even act English, but have rather adopted the mannerisms of those heathens. To my dismay, you are my first born son and therefore, my heir. If not, I would have preferred you had not returned."
The Viscount swallowed a wave of dismay. “I'm sorry for that, too."
"Indeed. At least you are going to marry a wealthy woman."
He considered his father a long, careful moment, suffering his reproving gaze without flinching. “I'd marry her if she were a pauper."
He scoffed at his son.
"You disgust me. I won't be at your wedding!” He departed the room in long icy strides.
Lord Cheltham watched him, assailed with terrible sadness. Despite himself, he loved his father, and this rejection left him wretched.
* * * *
The Moore family found themselves one morning sitting with Lord Cheltham in a church waiting to see the wedding of Lady Joan Wright to her intended. Lord Cheltham turned uneasy eyes toward Relief and whispered.
"I'm going to stop this. She does not want to be married to this man. She wants to escape the country with her originally family, with whom she has exchanged secret letters."
Respect surged through Relief to her bones. “You want her happiness."
"Yes. She wants to be with her family."
"Benjamin,” she whispered. “You will miss her terribly."
"Yes. How will I know she will be well?"
"I know protectors for hire."
The Viscount's brow rose in surprise. Relief grinned. “I have hired one to follow Joan to her new destination. He will report back to us and shield her from harm if necessary."
He leaned back and gave her a long look. “I am going to step around the back of the building. In five minutes, meet me there."
She nodded. He stood up and walked out, casually. Minutes later, she went the other way and met him in a quiet spot out back.
"What were you planning, Benjamin?"
"To take her from this church and go with her to her new country so I can assure myself that she is in good hands before I leave her presence."
"What?"
"Yes, Relief."
"You would miss your own wedding, my lord? It draws near."
"I am afraid I would have had to postpone it until I was sure of her safety. I would leave you heavily guarded in my absence. I thought you would appreciate the reprieve anyway,” he added with sad tones.
Sweet love made her glow with tenderness, and she leaned and gave him a kiss as if a feather had brushed against his lips. He raised his fingers to his mouth and touched his lip.
"Number five."
She frowned, realizing her mistake and dropped her gaze. He lifted her chin with the crook of one finger.
"Sweet love, look at your soon-to-be husband."
She raised her eyes to his.
"I will make you happy, Relief."
"I know,” she muttered. “And then I will be dead."
Great anxiety came to his storm cloud eyes. “Relief—"
They were interrupted by the sound of a carriage rushing away, horses’ hooves hammering the ground. They ran around the building and saw Joan smiling grandly, next to a dark, foreign-looking couple. Joan waved cheerfully.
"I love you, Benjamin!” she shouted. “Be happy, brother, and marry your American! Do not come after me!” She was outright gleeful.
He darted after her.
"Benjamin!"
He stopped running.
"Let her go."
"Relief—"
"Let her escape, Benjamin. Do not worry, my love. She is being followed. I hired the best."
At that moment, it seemed as if the sun had started shining on his face for the first time in his life.
"Did you just call me, ‘my love'?"
"Er ... yes."
He went to her and pulled her into an ardent kiss. She moaned. He kissed her deeper. The gentle caress of his tongue against hers sent coils of yearning rus
hing through her. He pulled away and trailed slow kisses along her neck, holding the sides of her head between his hands. Her pulse pounded.
She grabbed his hair tightly between her fingertips. “Stop, stop, I beg you!” she managed to say, breathing quickly.
He dropped his hands and walked away stiffly, and quickly. She stared after him, trembling with need, burning with love.
That night, he dined with her family. When once again she accompanied him to her front door, he asked her about Raphael.
"Benjamin, I will give you another gift if you do not insist upon an answer this night."
He smiled. “Would it be kiss number six?” He leaned closer to her. She didn't trust herself this time and pushed on his chest lightly.
"No."
"Then what?” His lips were curved up at one corner.
"This.” She opened her little silk reticule and pulled out a dark ring. She grabbed his hand, flipped it over, and placed the gift in his palm.
He picked it up with his other hand, stroking it gently.
"Relief, it is made out of hair. Your hair?"
"Yes."
A soft glow fell over his features. “Thank you.” He slid it over his pinky. “You honor me. When we are dancing at the celebration of our fiftieth wedding anniversary, it will be upon my finger."
She blinked, not expecting the lurch of almost painful love her heart just made. She then closed her eyes. She felt the soft touch of his lips upon hers and heard her front door open and close. She stood alone in her entrance hall that seemed suddenly cold, large and empty without him. Her heart was throbbing with an ominous ache of foreboding.
* * * *
The following day he joined the family for dinner. She stole glances at him throughout the meal across the silver and fine china and crystal that designed the table. Fearful images of either of them going up against her old teacher's killer destroyed her appetite, and she picked at her food. She kept seeing either his death or hers.
After the food was removed from the table, she expected he would remain for wine and conversation with the male members of her family. She excused herself to join her mother and sister in the salon and nearly passed the Viscount, when he stayed her with a gentle hand and stood up.
"My dear, might I have a private word with you?"
She nodded gravely. Honora rushed to her and whispered into her ear.
"Before dinner, I slipped it under your pillow, just to give you an extra sense of security."