The 12th Kiss

by Laura Hogg

  Mr. Moore smiled. “Where were you taking her then?"

  Lord Cheltham rubbed his chin, trying to decide how to put the matter. Relief turned to him and placed her hand on his arm. She gave him as an enchanting of a look as she could muster.

  "My lord husband, if I may..."

  "What, my love?"

  "Allow me to explain to my family."

  He gave her a stern look as if to say, “It would be best if I handled this."

  "Please. The seventh."

  He inhaled deeply as he looked into her face. She was referring to the seventh kiss that she would reward him with later. He nodded and gestured with his hand.

  "Wife."

  She looked at each member of her family, one by one. Their brows were crinkled with confusion, except for Honora's; she was wringing her hands nervously.

  Mr. Moore frowned and touched his daughter's arm. He pulled her forward. Relief stepped closer to him, and Lord Cheltham stepped back.

  "Relief, this is nothing resembling Milan, is it? Do you have more trouble?"

  "Milan?” Lord Cheltham interjected. “Sir, she has never told me anything about Milan. I should be glad to know what happened."

  Mr. Moore sighed. “It was before we lived in Asia. An obsessed man wanted her. One look at my Relief, and he haunted her every move."

  "Sir, what came about?"

  "He was particularly motivated. He knocked her guards insensible, and tied them up."

  "And?"

  "He climbed into the window of her chambers, the one she shared with her sister. Honora was asleep."

  "Father, this is ... delicate. Perhaps we should—"

  "I am obliged to insist on hearing this, wife. I must have an account of the scene.” He nodded to Mr. Moore.

  "Your husband should know this, sweetheart."

  Relief grew cold with worry. “Father."

  "Shh, it's fine, my little flower."

  Honora scoffed and chuckled at the same time. Mr. Moore turned to face her. “Honora? Would you care to share what is so funny?"

  "Father, Relief is no delicate little flower, I assure you."

  His brows drew together. “Oh? Is there something I should know?"

  Honora straightened up quickly and stuttered over her next words. “Um, no, I referred to her temper."

  "A temper will not protect her from criminals, Honora, even if her brothers showed her a move or two of self-protection."

  "I'm sorry, Father. Of course you are correct."

  He looked back to Lord Cheltham who had a contemplative look on his face as if he were adding up the facts. He looked at Relief carefully, studying her face. He placed one hand over her eye. She jumped back.

  "My lord?"

  "Call me Cheltham."

  "What?"

  "Please, say Cheltham."

  "Oh, Cheltham."

  "Now sweet wife, lower your voice. Drop it down oh, a fifth or so, maybe more."

  She shook her head.

  "Do as I ask."

  She swallowed hard and manipulated her voice. She spoke in a lower octave but differently than she did when she spoke as Raphael. He gave her a suspicious look but said nothing. The Moores were staring.

  "What is this all about, my lord?"

  He opened his mouth to say but glanced into Relief's eyes, which stung with tears. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips for a kiss.

  "I do not yet know, sir, but I will apprise you of the situation when I find out for myself. Please finish telling me about Milan."

  "Relief was trying to fall asleep. She felt pressure over her body and opened her eyes, terrified. The man was lying on top of her. He forced a kiss on her, swallowing her screams."

  "Dear God, what happened?” Lord Cheltham asked with his fists clenched. Anger etched his features.

  "Raphael busted open the door with a pistol in his hand. Daniel had been walking below to meet a woman in the dark when he saw the man enter Relief's window. He saw his brother in their own window in the next room over and shouted to him. Just as Raphael was forcing the barrel of the gun down the man's throat, Daniel entered through the window and helped drag him out of the room."

  Lord Cheltham was trembling with obvious ire.

  "Benjamin?” she said. “My lord?"

  He turned to face her, his jaw tight. He was breathing faster.

  "It seems, Lady Cheltham, that I will have my task cut out for me. It seems that I will reach top form, fighting off all of your overly amorous suitors."

  "I am confident that you will sleep with one eye open to see that my daughter is not molested, or worse, killed."

  "I have the pleasure of assuring you that you have my word of honor as a man, sir, that it will be so. Now as a matter of course we must leave."

  "Another possessed man?"

  Lord Cheltham nodded.

  Raphael smiled. “Let me get the guns!” he said with some cheer. “It will be fun to make some lowlife eat led!"

  "I have it handled,” Lord Cheltham said.

  Raphael frowned.

  Mr. Moore held his hand up. “Son, it is his lordship's place now.” But he looked at his new son-in-law. “You will send a note if you need support, if the situation grows out-of-hand?"

  "Yes, sir. Thank you. For now, my wife needs to feel confident that her husband can protect her.” He placed a shielding, gentle hand over her silver sleeve, and gave her arm a squeeze.

  "Agreed."

  Raphael stepped forward. Mr. Moore held him back by the arm. “Son, if we are needed, we will be informed."

  Raphael sighed, greatly annoyed.

  Your temper, my brother.

  "You will advise us when you have settled this, my lord.” Mr. Moore gave him an intent look.

  "Sir.” He nodded and led Relief out the door as her family stepped aside and watched, faces fixed with worry and curiosity.

  Nineteen

  He took her straight to their bedchambers and stood before her giving her a long, silent look. He studied her eyes searching for reasons why anyone would want to harm her then rubbed his temples, vexed.

  "My lord?"

  It briefly occurred to Relief that this situation could have been grandly romantic. They were standing in the bedroom, before a large four-poster bed draped with heavy silk and covered in luxuriantly thick and soft covers. She was in a startling beautiful silver gown, and he was heart-stoppingly handsome in his fine wedding suit.

  She imagined him sweeping her up in his strong arms and striding to the side of the bed. He would lay her down upon it then cover her with his whole body. He would kiss her deeply and passionately while she sighed and moaned and professed her unending love for him. His dark gray eyes would darken as he took her on a journey into pleasure that she had ever experienced before.

  Afterward, he would hold her and swear his infinite love for her. She closed her eyes and stumbled, being overwhelmed with desire, but she couldn't give in. Her life passed before her in flashes. She saw flags and myriad landscapes. She saw thousands of faces. Never, never in her experience had she ever seen her husband's equal.

  "Relief, look at me.” He grabbed her forearm to steady her.

  She opened her eyes. He was looking into her soul. She could stand it no longer; she pulled him into a kiss that would have startled him with its intensity. He moaned and ran his hands down her arms and up and over her neck. He slid his fingers over her collarbone.

  "Oh my God.” He pulled away.

  She was left standing there, gazing upon him. He leaned over, breathing heavily.

  "Relief ... you must not distract me.” He took several more deep breaths. “Oh my God.” He stood up. “I must ... go.” He frowned. “In any other situation, I would forget my business and do what I am dying to do. I would coax the five other kisses from you and then pleasure you until you begged me to stop, hopefully sometime next week—Oh my God, I want you, Relief. But you must stay here. I will be back."

  "Where are you going, my lord?”
she said, deeply stimulated by the visions inspired within her.

  "I cannot endure the idea that you must feel threatened for one more evening."

  "What?” she snapped.

  "The fight coordinator will be able to give me an idea where to find that bastard who makes you feel the continuing threat of death. I will no longer tolerate you having that horrific anticipation."

  "Oh, Benjamin, no!"

  "Stay here, Relief! That is not a request. Stay in here. I will be fine."

  "Benjamin, he has exceptional fighting skills, unusual skills from an ancient art."

  "Beloved, I learned a few of those moves myself."

  "It won't be enough!"

  "Can he dodge a bullet?"

  "You would become a murderer?"

  He gave her a look of disbelief. “Pardon me?"

  "You would shoot an unarmed man? He carries no weapon. He does not need to."

  "To save your life."

  "If you do, I will hate you."

  He slapped his hands to his sides and spoke with exasperation. “Fine. I will find a way to defeat him with my bare hands. Will that meet with your approval, wife?” he said sarcastically. “What will it take to earn your respect?"

  Tears blurred her vision. “I respect you greatly, Benjamin. It's just that he's a world-class fighter."

  "Do not insult me, Relief.” He scoffed and changed into his street clothes.

  She touched his shoulder and whispered into his ear. “Benjamin, you have no idea how much I love you. I want you to know, so I am going to show you. All of your life, you will know with every part of your being how much I love you."

  "Then I did the right thing by making you my wife."

  "I could only dream that it would be so."

  He turned around slowly and looked at her. “Relief, I love you so much it hurts. I will be your hero whether you like it or not. Your would-be killer does not hate you as much as I love you, and that is precisely why I will be coming back home to you this night."

  She looked at her feet and nodded. He placed three gentle kisses, right in a row, on her lips. He must have tasted the salt from her tears.

  "May you have your victory, husband. Allow me to watch."

  "Absolutely not. Stay here."

  "Must you insist upon that?"

  "With all my authority as your husband."

  She gave him her devastating half-grin, but it was laced with sadness.

  "When you look at me with that smile of yours, Relief, I want to go out and conquer the world for you. I used to dream of kissing those lips. You would sob my name with your great need as I covered you."

  She closed her eyes. “Come back to me, husband."

  "I will. I promise you, lady."

  She opened her eyes and watched as he strode from the room, more determined than she had ever seen a man in her entire nineteen years.

  * * * *

  She hired a cab that took her to her house. Very quietly she let herself in, peering around the door to see if anyone was in the front parlor. It was empty. She heard voices from a room off to the side. One was Honora's.

  She pressed herself against the wall and edged along it, peering in the doorway then drawing her head back. She did it again. Honora looked up as if she sensed something. They met eye-to-eye before Relief gestured with her head. Honora stopped speaking with Daniel and excused herself saying, “Daniel, I'm tired and would like to rest. We'll talk at dinner?"

  "Are you out of sorts, Nora?"

  "Not at all."

  "All right."

  Relief skirted across the floor and headed toward the stairs. Honora lifted her skirts and followed her, racing as fast as she could go. When they were alone in the room that they had shared, Honora took her by the shoulders. They were both breathing heavily.

  "Relief?"

  "Make me up as Raphael. He's going to die."

  "Your husband is not going to attempt to fight him is he?"

  "Yes."

  "Oh my God.” Honora lurched to the back of the room. She retrieved her makeup kit.

  Relief was already undressing. She went to the wardrobe and pulled out her street fighter clothes. Honora helped her finish undressing. Relief threw on the breeches, loose shirt, and boots. Honora hurried to apply her makeup and twist her hair into a long queue.

  "Wear the scarf over your hair.” She tossed a ragged cloth over Relief's head and tied the back into a knot.

  "Oh, do hurry Honora! His life depends on it!"

  Honora's shaking hands moved faster if that were possible. She helped her to sneak out of the house, distracting her family. As Relief hurried to the heart of the city, The noises and smells inundated her as they normally did.

  She swallowed hard, imagining her foe striking a death blow to her husband. She found the fight coordinator. He was a heavy-set, balding man who smelled like body order and cigars. He was puffing on one now. Relief withheld her distaste and asked about Mr. Wright.

  "Aye, he was here, asking about that mysterious fella. I saw him earlier. I told him to save the fight for the tournament. There was money to be made. He pulled out a pouch of money and paid me enough to tell him what he wanted to know. I sent him on his way."

  "Where are they, sir?"

  "You were going to be his brother?"

  "Yes. He married my sister."

  He looked over her carefully and gave her the information she sought. Relief darted off. She knew a short cut. She could get there before her husband did, if she leaped over walls and crawled under little spaces. She paused behind the grimy wall of a poor person's home and saw her love with fierce intention on his face, heading towards her enemy. Taking a parallel course, she sprinted and saw the murderer, practicing fighting moves alone in a clearing. She jumped in front of him, startling him. He took a stance.

  "Miss Moore.” He smirked. “The little lad."

  "Shut up. He doesn't know, and he's on his way. We are married now."

  He bowed mockingly. “Your secret is safe with me, Mrs. Wright."

  "He approaches down the road; you should prepare to fight me."

  "Ah, now is the time? You will die for him this day?"

  "It is our wedding day."

  "How romantic. Your punishment will be even greater than I could have hoped for."

  He lurched at her. Perspiration covered her as they fought. “I'm not going to make this easy for you. You will have to work for it."

  "I can see him. My partner will kill him."

  She dropped her arms and froze her feet. “Take me."

  He flipped her and slammed her onto the ground. She landed with a thump, gasping, sharp pain shooting up her spine to her head, and she nearly lost awareness. Her vision blurred, and she fought to stay alert. He placed his foot on her neck. Her husband ran up and stopped short. Dust flew up around his feet.

  "Raphael! What are you doing here?"

  "I met him on the road ... Cheltham. I am afraid ... that he ... got the best of me,” she said between gasps.

  "Let him go!” Lord Cheltham roared. “You will fight me now!"

  He smirked evilly. “Mr. Wright. A pleasure."

  "Let my brother go!"

  "I'm afraid your brother must die this night."

  "No!"

  "But before I extinguish his life—"

  He bent down and tore open her shirt. Relief held her breath, exposed. She had not had time to bind her chest as she normally did. She pulled the flaps of the shirt back over herself with shaky hands, her head still spinning. Tears spilled from her eyes.

  "Know who I am killing, Mr. Wright. Your wife!"

  Lord Cheltham looked down at Relief, his gray eyes wild with anguish, his lips parted.

  "I did not want to be right,” he croaked out. He looked up at the evil man.

  "I love you, Benjamin,” she said in her own defeated voice, fading in and out, with spots before her eyes.

  The evil one pulled out a short blade. He lifted the gleaming weapon to plunge
it into her heart. She wanted the image of her husband to fill her eyes before she died, and turned her fading vision to him. He pulled a gun out from a holster under his cloak. Everything turned black.

  * * * *

  Her eyes fluttered open. Her husband was staring into her face frowning. She sat up slowly in the luxurious bed.

  "Benjamin,” she said, breathing out in great thanks that he was alive.

  Still he said nothing, only tensed his jaw.

  "Benjamin, speak to me."

  He closed his eyes and sighed. He opened them and looked at her with wet eyes.

  "Benjamin..."

  "I can't."

  He got up and walked away from the bed. He stood with his back to her, his posture taut. She shifted against and winced, aching and stiff from fighting the fiercest battle of her life.

  What the deuce had happened?

  She was in a white satiny chemise, trimmed in lace, an exaggerated feminine touch to the undergarment. Little silk roses decorated the neckline. Her hair was down, flowing. She touched her clothes and hair.

  He changed me into this.

  She stood up carefully.

  "Are you well, Relief?” He spun around.

  "Yes. I'm doing very well."

  He strode to her, clutching his chest, brow crinkled, breathing heavily.

  "My God, Relief!” He got down on one knee, gazing at the floor then took in a deep breath and brought traumatized eyes to meet hers. He pressed a fisted palm on his forehead, closing his eyes again.

  She plopped over the edge of the bed, knelt down, and threw her arms around him. He clutched her.

  "Oh dear God,” he sobbed. “I almost lost you—again."

  She squeezed him harder. “I was trying to die for you, Benjamin."

  He pressed her head to his chest. “Are you the one missing the furniture in your upper chambers, Relief? You must be quite mad."

  "You should have let him finish. This is old business between him and me. You had nothing to do with it until now."

  "I had everything to do with it!"

  "You are in danger now."

  "I killed him, Relief."

  She pulled away. “What?"

  He squinted. “You should look relieved, not stricken."

  She touched her mouth, and her eyes stung with the wetness of fear.