The 12th Kiss

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The 12th Kiss Page 27

by Laura Hogg


  "Raph, my boy, allow me to soothe some of your troubles. Let's go get deboshed. We can find the men who did this on the morrow. You're too angry now, and I'm afraid you'll kill them. You don't want that, do you?"

  She gazed at him then nodded. “All right, Cheltham."

  They walked down the road until they came across a run-down inn, known for it's cheap, but acceptable liquor. They stepped inside and took a seat then proceeded to order drink after drink. The first one was bizarre to Lord Cheltham. He was going to get drunk with his wife. He shook it off and slammed his drink down.

  After she had two, she swayed in her seat. “You're a fine fellow, Cheltham."

  "Thanks, lad."

  "And if I were a woman, I'd marry you."

  He gulped down the next drink, gripping his beer mug.

  They continued to drink, and then she belted out a sailor song. By now, he was just as drunk and lifted his mug to her. “To my best friend."

  She stopped singing and smirked.

  "Give me the twelfth kiss, Relief."

  "Allow me to be Raphael."

  "Not as my wife. I'm sorry. I just—” he hiccupped. “Can not."

  She shook her head.

  "Relief?"

  "What is it, yer great lordship?” she said, slurred.

  He stood, holding her arm by the elbow, looking into her face for a long time.

  "Cheltham?” She gazed up from her seat.

  "Relief,” he stumbled then caught his balance. “I'm struggling with this, our situ—ation."

  "So end yer struggle. You want to be with me?"

  He took her little hand, crouched down, and pressed her fingers to his chest, above his heart.

  "Do you feel this?"

  "It beats ster-ON-gly,” she said, drunkenly.

  He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear it. Focusing intently, he managed to speak his mind. “Please, wife, do not do this to me. Come home. I will bring you on different adventures. We could travel together."

  She shook her head.

  "What will it take?"

  "You have that answer, highness.” She hiccupped now.

  "It's not one I can live with."

  She took both hands and pressed them to the cracked wooden tabletop, inhaling deeply, and gathering her wits. She brought serious eyes to his.

  "That is yer problem, unless you wish to drain the life from me, drag me home and kill who I am."

  "Why Relief? Why do you need to be a boy?"

  "I do not need to be a boy! I just need to be who I am!"

  He stood there, unable to respond.

  * * * *

  All night she thought about his comment about being a boy. Then she made a decision. As a female running around wild, she could easily end up in Bedlam, unless she approached this the right way. It would take some serious consideration, and even more luck, but she was willing to try.

  * * * *

  The next night, when Lord Cheltham was out on the streets in search of her, which he did on a regular basis to ease his heart, he could not find her. He asked about Raphael. Oddly, everyone he inquired gave him a strange look and walked away. He could not figure it out.

  When he saw a young girl crying in the gutter, he went to her.

  "Miss? What is the matter?"

  "It's my friend. He's been fatally hurt."

  "Oh, my dear. I am so sorry. What has happened?"

  She looked up at him with anguish in her eyes. “He was a hero. He helped out so many people."

  Lord Cheltham's back stiffened. “Please go on."

  "It was a terrible thing. He was ambushed."

  "What ... was your friend's name?” His heart began to bang in his chest.

  "Raphael."

  "How, when, where? Oh my God."

  The girl threw herself into his arms. “I do not know."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I did not see it. I heard others speak of it. No one actually saw it though. One person spoke of it, and the news spread."

  Lord Cheltham felt wobbly.

  "Saints in heaven, we have another hero!” someone from a group of five people ran past them yelling.

  He ran after the group, a sinking feeling in his stomach telling him it was the right thing to do.

  He nearly ran into the group when they stopped abruptly. A girl with wavy blond hair tied back, male breeches laced at the crotch, a loose, flowing shirt, and small masculine boots was engaged in a fight with a street punk. Lord Cheltham covered his face with his hands. “Oh lord."

  When the girl was successful at making her twice bigger opponent eat dirt, she threw her arms up into the air. The group could not help themselves. They applauded. Her smile lit up the entire surrounding area. “For Raphael!” she shouted.

  "For Raphael!” they returned.

  "I am his sister, and I have avenged him! I will go after the others as well, though do not expect me to kill anyone. I will just hammer them senseless over and over again!” She laughed.

  "Oh Lord,” Lord Cheltham said again.

  Then she noticed him.

  Twenty-five

  She walked up to him, grinning with satisfaction.

  "I have no need to be a boy, my lord. As you can see, I have thought my way out of that predicament. Though truth be told, it was quite a risk. I had to prove myself in my female form. These are my people. I help them. They love me, so I took the chance and have obviously succeeded.” Laughter spilled from her lips. She stilled it. “Therefore, they won't have me locked away!” Her hands came to her hips.

  "Relief, you go beyond incredible.” He was so grateful she was alive.

  She gave him her devastating smile. He yanked her into a passionate kiss, aroused.

  Leaning away and gazing into her eyes, he said, “I warned you not to do that."

  "Do what?"

  "Smile like that. It inflames me, Relief. Dear God, woman, how long are you going to punish me? Give me the twelfth kiss!” Gripped in the throes of desire, burning from head to toe with wanting her, he demanded, “Damn it Relief, please!"

  She lifted her impertinent, pretty little chin into the air and marched past him. “Good evening, my lord."

  He sighed in deep frustration.

  * * * *

  "Honora, I saw my husband."

  "And?"

  "I want to give him that kiss. He is so handsome and valiant in his street-clothes with his dagger strapped to his side, under his jacket, ready to defend a stranger at a moment's notice."

  "You have no doubt that he would do that?"

  "None. He has become the hero I was seeking, Honora. I heard that just a day ago he came to the rescue of a young man who was being threatened by a ruffian promising to kill him with his bare hands. Benjamin slammed the big one in the face with his fist and rendered him insensible. He knows just where to hit.” She rubbed her jaw over the spot he had hit her, and she remembered his talent with pride.

  "He seeks his own adventure now."

  "He really admired Raphael—I mean me."

  "He's changing, Leafy."

  She inclined her head and stared at her feet sadly then nodded. “Yes. He does not act like other noblemen of this day and age."

  "He pursues meaningful causes now, not just entertainment. Even without Raphael's company."

  "Yes."

  "Leafy, I find it interesting."

  "What?"

  "You change dialect and sometimes even languages when you speak."

  "I've been slipping, lately. I must be careful."

  "Leafy, you are not the same. Your husband has your head all in a whirl."

  "I love him with all of my heart, Honora."

  "Did you tell him about the man who's after him?"

  "I'm not sure that I should. The disturbing news would sadden him. If he knew who wanted him dead, he'd be hurt."

  Honora placed a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder. Relief covered it with her own.

  "What would I do without you, Honora?"
/>
  "Your husband knew you needed me and urged Father to let us stay together."

  "I have no doubt that you would be bound for America now if it were not for him."

  "I never wanted to venture far from you, Leafy."

  "I am hoping that you and I will be neighbors someday, living with our hero husbands."

  "Not our aristocratic husbands?"

  "No.” She grinned sweetly. “I do not believe they would be adventurous or fun enough for the two of us. Of course I could be wrong."

  "Benjamin's title—"

  "I do not believe, Leafy, since the moment he became your man that he has given one little damn about that. He has eyes only for you."

  "Honora, you cursed!” She smiled.

  "So I did!"

  They giggled together before being distracted by the knock at the door. They rushed to answer it. When Relief swung it open, she froze in place. Her husband stared back at her, looking dashing and ready for adventure. His clothes were haphazard. His shirt was loose, his breeches tight, his hair windblown.

  "Benjamin, where have you been?” Her heart sped up with desire.

  "May I come in?” His expression was troubled.

  She took his arms and pulled him inside. He grasped her arms then pulled her into a hug. “Oh Relief, how I miss you."

  "Benjamin, I only wish that we could come to an understanding."

  "So do I. I wish with all of my strength that I could handle the situation that you seek. I cannot accept it, hard as I may try."

  "Then why did you let me go? Why are you not forcing your will upon me as is your legal right?"

  "Because I have true love for you, Relief. I told you I would prove it."

  "And so you have,” she muttered, and looked at him with reverence. She gave him the grin that she knew knocked him off of his feet and brought her hand to his cheek. She softly fingered a loose strand of hair hanging there. “It seems you are not just another obsessed man. You are the twentieth man to ever ask for my hand, Benjamin."

  He pulled away and gave her a shocked look.

  "Your mouth is hanging open, my lord."

  He promptly closed it. Honora laughed. “Hmm, I have only received four. None of them were my type."

  Relief gave her sister a sweet look. “At least sixteen of my proposals were due to my being the first daughter, Honora. We are on even ground otherwise."

  Lord Cheltham smiled. “You two must never be apart. You are wonderful together. Honora, we will have to find you a man who is willing to marry you and live next door to us."

  Relief and Honora turned their heads and gave each other a look of surprise.

  "What did I say?"

  Relief smiled.

  "Keep smiling like that Relief, and I will touch you in a way to inspire you give me the most lustful kiss of your life, and then I will—"

  "Benjamin,” Relief smiled. “I was not intending on giving my sister that kind of information until the night before her wedding."

  He laughed. “May I escort you for a ride, Relief?"

  "Yes,” she said.

  "Put on a mask. It's not necessary to go in total disguise, but you might be seen with a rogue like me. We don't want you to be recognized."

  Relief went to her room and returned with her chosen mask. She accepted his outstretched arm. Outside, under the starry night sky, he slipped a hand under his jacket and retrieved his own mask.

  "They must not know it's me.” He grinned.

  They walked and approached a hackney-coach, led by horses with sagging heads and flimsy manes and tales. The dirty vehicle was big and lumbering, and a dingy yellow with small glasses and large frames. On the panels, Relief could see a faded coat of arms.

  "Wise decision. A nobleman would not ride in this. Those poor horses. My beauty's mane shines with good health.” Relief said under her breath.

  "I paid the coachman extra to just drive and not stop."

  They stepped inside and sat on the straw-stuffed canvas cushion of the seat. The coachman snapped his whip, and they were off.

  "Benjamin, what happened before you came to my door?"

  "Someone tried to shoot me."

  "What?” she screeched. “Benjamin?"

  "I was not hit."

  "Obviously, but—"

  "Do not worry. I will be more alert from now on. If I had not bent down to pick something up at that moment, you would have been a widow."

  Her eyes burned with tears. She grabbed his hand. “Benjamin."

  He patted her hand. “I was nowhere near a carriage. He was and dashed off."

  "I must know more. We must come up with a plan to take him down."

  He gave her a look of great interest. “You realize wife, that this situation is incredibly odd to me?"

  "Oh?"

  "Yes. I respect you like I would a man of the highest degree of talent. I am talking with you as I would a business partner, but I want desperately to make love to you."

  Her cheeks heated as desire rushed her, and her breathing quickened. She fanned herself.

  "You are such a lovely woman, Relief."

  "You are now the hottest topic of discussion among the members of the ton, or so I have overheard."

  "What do I care?"

  "You might have cared before."

  "Perhaps a little. Conceivably I am now missing something in my upper chambers as my mad wife is. Maybe a small table or just a little couch."

  Relief punched his arm and chuckled. “Benjamin! I am not crazy, I am just not boring!"

  "That is a grand understatement, Lady Cheltham."

  Her heart melted. “That means that I am your woman."

  He took her hand, saying nothing more. She closed her eyes and sighed with the deepest of regret.

  "Benjamin, I think that maybe you should escort me back home.” Her eyes fluttered open.

  He frowned. “Why, Relief?"

  "My lord, I am a woman after all, and your charm is overcoming me."

  "And my good looks?” he quipped.

  She touched his face again. “I cannot be your woman, my lord."

  "Please refer to me as Benjamin or my love."

  "Benjamin—"

  "Your voice is so sweet. I dream of it."

  "Benjamin."

  He nodded grimly. “Yes.” He rubbed his face in frustration. “Let's talk of something less provocative."

  "Agreed."

  "What do you know about this man who is trying to kill me?” He laced his fingers together and rested his hands in his lap.

  She hesitated.

  "Relief? Tell me!"

  "Benjamin, I—"

  "Tell me, Relief."

  "I ... I suspect that he might be a relative of yours."

  "What?” he snapped. “That is not possible!"

  "I was in disguise. I was walking about town looking for clues, a word, a rumor, anything."

  "And?” He leaned closer.

  "I saw a nobleman wearing a wig and doing business with a ruffian. I hid nearby and watched. He was trying to buy a pistol."

  "Go on."

  "I knew he had to be the man I was looking for. I heard him tell the man that he had to eliminate a real problem in his life. I followed him. Finally, I jumped him from behind. He put up a good fight."

  "He had a weapon! You could have been killed!"

  "In Asia, I learned how to disarm an opponent."

  "Maybe you can disarm a man with that smile of yours, Relief, but I do not see how you could take a weapon from a man!"

  "It's possible!"

  "How?"

  "I practiced with wooden pistols."

  "So what you are telling me is that you never actually did this with a real weapon?"

  "I was great at it in my practice. I figured that it was the right time to use the skills I had learned."

  "Dash it, Relief, you are going to be a widow anyway. You are going to kill me with worry."

  "Oh, Benjamin, get it out of your head that I am less compe
tent than a man simply because I am a woman!"

  "You are more competent than any man I have ever known in my life."

  "Then what is the problem?"

  "You are a woman."

  "Benjamin,” she scoffed.

  He raised his brow.

  "Would you coddle a boy?"

  "No, I would encourage him to go out and be a man. I will encourage our sons to engage in a fight or two to learn how to take a hit."

  "Then why coddle me? Isn't it best that I also know how to take a hit?"

  "No!” He chuckled. “It is not necessary in the least degree!"

  She crossed her arms.

  He laughed. “My mad wife."

  She glared at him.

  Twenty-six

  His fingers caressed her arm, and sensual shivers crossed her skin, making their way to the pit of her stomach.

  His eyes flickered with regret. “I'm sorry, Relief. I was not trying to insult you. Let's finish what we were discussing. What happened with the fight?"

  "He aimed his pistol at me. But he was stupid, hah! He was too close-the fool!” She shook her head. “I did a spinning back kick, right against his forearm, and the pistol went flying! It was glorious!” She clasped her hands together.

  "Relief, I forbid you to ever try anything like that again!"

  "But I was successful and—"

  He held up his hand. “Never mind.” He sighed. “What happened next?"

  "I kicked him in the thigh, and he toppled over, but he was fast, Benjamin, and recovered quickly, jumping up and landing a good blow to my chest. I tumbled backwards but caught my balance and ran after him. I would have had him too, had not that little girl screamed my name, begging me to come with her. Her brother was taking a major beating, and she feared for his life, so I went."

  His gaze dropped, and his lips parted. She gathered her shawl closer around her covering her skin. He lifted a hand to remove it, but she pulled away.

  "Relief, let me see. Are you bruised? I have a right to know."

  She sighed and grudgingly opened the flaps of the shawl. He frowned and brought hovering fingers over a purplish bruise. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Does it hurt much?"

  "No.” She chuckled. “This is minor."

  He leaned and placed the softest kiss over her flesh, then retook his seated position. “So why do you venture to think that he is a relative of mine?"

 

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