by Aliyah Burke
“Maybe I could. We’ll see. Let’s race to the other side of the clearing. Stay on the road, though.”
“I’m gonna win.”
“Ready. Set. Go.” Both horses took off like a shot. Toka was running all out. Ciara knew that she could win, but she let her son have his victory. They were laughing as they rode up to the Trenton house.
* * * *
Lucien rode hard to Stokley. It was time for some answers. He had convinced Rafe to stay with his sister while he confronted their father.
“I promise not to confront Richard without you.”
“I will hold you to your word, Luc.”
Lucien was entering the house before his horse had been led away. “Father!” he bellowed.
“My lord, the duke is in his study,” the butler said. “He is not to be disturbed.”
“Good. See we aren’t disturbed.” He brushed past him, knowing full well that wasn’t what the butler had meant, and headed off to confront his father. At the door he stopped for about two seconds before he ripped it open.
“Damn it, didn’t I say I wasn’t to be disturbed?” There was a lot of shuffling in the chair that was turned from the door.
“I heard something to that effect.”
The duke spun his chair around in surprise. “What are you doing here? Did that bitch whine to you about me sending for her a few days ago, or was it the fact that I offered her money?”
So that was where Ciara had gone. “Neither. She has not spoken of it to me. Thanks for telling me. This is about Devonna. Tell me you didn’t know.”
“Know what? Is this going to take long? I’m busy.”
“Did you know?” His voice was dangerous and low.
“Know what? And watch your tone with me.” He raised his walking stick and shook it at Lucien.
Snatching the cane, Lucien broke it over his knee and threw the pieces back at the duke. “The fact that your daughter was being raped by your stepson. Did you know?”
If his father had paled when his walking stick was tossed back to him in two pieces, it was nothing compared to the paling his face did at Lucien’s blunt announcement.
“What…what did you say?”
“You heard what I said. Answer my question. Did you know?” Lucien was shaking he was so angry.
“No. I had no idea. Are you sure about this?”
“I have no reason to lie. Even you must have noticed that she pulls away from males.”
“How do you know it was Richard?”
“She told me. Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He left yesterday saying he had something to take care of.” The duke slumped in his chair, at the moment looking all the older for his years. “Is she all right?”
“I don’t believe you have the right to ask that. You have despised her since she was born.”
“I was mourning the loss of my wife.”
“And ignoring your child. She has endured the hate-filled stares and your comments about her with a quiet pride. You have ignored her for her whole life, and now you wish to play the hero. Forget it. If and when you see Richard, you tell him I am looking for him.” There was no mistaking his meaning.
“Why are you looking for my son?” Emma asked from the door.
Lucien spun around.
“For what he did to Devonna.” The expression that flashed across her face was not one of curiosity, but one of fear. “You knew. You knew what he was doing to her. How could you?”
“He said that she came on to him. It was not my place to say or do anything.” She spoke with the authority of one used to being a duchess. “Boys will always take what is freely given.”
“You bitch. Were you a man, I would call you out for this and kill you.” He spun on his father. “You are to blame for this. You.” He strode to the door, his penetrating gaze making his stepmother jump out of his way. With a final glance over his shoulder, he frowned. “I will find him. He will pay for harming my sister.”
* * * *
Lucien rode hard to the Trenton house. “Where is Ciara?” he asked the butler as soon as the door opened.
“I believe she is up in her room. Shall I let her know you wish to see her?”
“I’ll go tell her myself.” He started to brush past the butler when he saw Trenton come into the foyer.
“Good day, my lord. Was there a reason for your visit?”
“I need to see Ciara. Now.”
“This is my home. If you will follow Potter to the sitting room, I will let her know you are here.”
Lucien struggled with his desire to just march up there and kick in her door. “Very well.” He followed Potter down the hall to an amber sitting room.
“I will have refreshments here soon, my lord.” Potter bowed and left the room. He waited for about five minutes when the door opened and two servants brought in trays with food on them. Still no Ciara.
Pacing the room, he munched on a sandwich. About to go get her himself, he turned and saw her entering the room. The vision walking toward him made his knees weak and he sat down on a chaise. She was dressed in a dress that was like the one she had worn at the cabin. Her feet, bare, were peeking out from beneath the flowing hem. It was green with colorful designs on it.
The fringes were dangling off a belt that accentuated her narrow waist. Her hair was in tight braids and threaded through with ribbons and beads. She looked comfortable. She looked beautiful.
“Good afternoon, Wolf. What brings you here?” She offered him a small smile as she approached.
This was the woman he knew. The woman he had fallen in love with. The one who made nothing seem impossible to accomplish.
He needed to hold her. He needed to be held. He didn’t know how to ask, so he just sat there and looked at her.
Ciara walked up to him, slid between his thighs and wrapped her arms around him. She pressed his head to her breast and let her strength flow into him. Neither of them spoke.
Lucien drank deep of her warmth and her scent. She had known. She always knew.
“Emma knew. My stepmother knew what he was doing.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You did what you could. You are there for her now.” She began to pull back so she could look at him, but his arms tightened and he kept his face buried against her.
“I failed my sister. I failed my mother.” She massaged his shoulders and when he relaxed, she pushed him back. He gazed up at her.
The door opened and Auntie Fi entered in a swirl of yellow silk and flowers.
“Ciara. Take him up to your room and let the poor dear get some rest. I am having tea soon and it wouldn’t do for them to see the marquess like this. Then you two need to have a talk.” She walked over and patted Lucien on the cheek. “Dear boy. You look so tired. Treat my niece right.” Then she was gone, leaving behind petals and the feeling of being run over by a carriage.
Lucien looked up at Ciara, uncertain if a trap had been set. “Did I hear that right? Did she just tell you to take me to your room?”
“Aye. We’d better go. Come on.” Ciara led the way out of the door and up the stairs.
Entering her room behind her, Lucien shut the door.
“Where are Faolan and Kosse? Where is Bryn?”
“They are with him in his room. He is sleeping. He was up late last night saying goodbye to his cousins.” She directed him to the chaise beneath her window. “Here, sit.”
He sat and watched her from lowered lids as she moved around her room. She sent for some hot water and lemon for herself and some brandy for him. She had an inborn grace that made him just sit back and wonder.
She brought him the brandy when the servant had set down the tray and left. She curled up next to him, drawing her legs underneath her as she sipped her drink. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Not right now. Why didn’t you tell me my father summoned you?”
“Because it wasn’t important.”
“Did he really try to pay you to leave?”
“Aye. He was pretty sure he knew why I had come to England. We reached an agreement of sorts. He will stay out of my way and I will let him live.”
He couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing. “I can just imagine you confronting him. I would have loved to have seen it. Does no one frighten you?” He hugged her hard as he shook with amusement.
Ciara continued facing the fire burning in her room. “You do. You frighten me.”
The solemnness in her tone banished the laughter from him.
“Why?”
“Because you make me feel things, things I can’t control. I don’t want to control them when I am with you. And because you have the power to take my son from me.”
“I would never do that.” His hand tipped her face so they had eye contact. “I hope you believe that.”
“I do. It is just hard for me to share him. He’s all I have.” She looked away.
“Don’t look away from me.”
He set down his glass and took her cup from her. Lifting her, he set her on his lap. He placed her legs on either side of his hips, which made her dress ride up midthigh, exposing her smooth legs to his gaze. Clenching his teeth, he tried to ignore the fact that his body was responding to her and focused on his words.
“I am willing to give you everything I have. I promise not to take every bit of your freedom away from you. I want to be what you have.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he drew her mouth within inches of his own. “Marry me. I love you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, a marchioness and future duchess of Stokley?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Yes. I will marry you.”
Lucien had gone cold when she fell silent for so long. When her answer came it was like having a fog lifted off from around his eyes. The world looked brighter. He kissed her lips. “I love you.”
Ciara kissed him back, not ready to admit that to him. She rose and pulled him with her to the bed. “Time for a nap. You still look exhausted.” Drawing back the covers, she helped him out of his boots and shirt.
Sliding into bed in only his trousers, he was enfolded by her honey and berry scent. The fatigue took over. As he closed his eyes, he felt her slide in next to him. She cuddled up to him like she had done in the cabin. One hand over his heart and her head on his shoulder.
* * * *
Lucien woke to the bed bouncing. He smiled, recalling that Ciara had agreed to marry him.
They were going to get married as soon as he got the special license, for he wasn’t going to give her a chance to change her mind. As he thought of his wife-to-be, he realized the warmth that had been next to him was gone, but the bed was still bouncing.
His eyes opened into mere slits as he heard childish laughter. His son was sitting on the end of the bed between Faolan and Kosse, staring at him. Every now and then he would bounce and shake the bed.
Bryn was obviously trying to stay quiet but was losing his patience with that. Lucien opened his eyes and blinked as he saw the smile cross his son’s face.
“Finally. You woke up. Mama said I couldn’t make any noise to wake you. I didn’t. But I bounced some. That should be okay ’cause she didn’t say I couldn’t bounce, only that I had to be quiet. Are you awake now?”
Sitting, he looked at his child and nodded. “I’m awake. What can I do for you?”
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt? Why are you in Mama’s bed naked?” The child’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m not naked.” Is this the sort of conversation one should have with a child? Even if it’s my own child? “Where is your mother?”
“She is with Aunt Fi. They are planning a wedding. Or, rather, Fi is. Mama looks like she has a headache. Are you marrying Mama? Does that mean we will be a family now? I asked her and she said she would talk to you about it.” Bryn bounded into his lap and continued to chatter.
I spoke to Mama about it. She was marrying him for her son. Not because she loved him, or wanted to. It was for her son. The joy that had been with him when he woke disappeared like a puff of smoke. Was he going to have a marriage like his father, after all?
“Bryn, leave your father alone. Go find something to give Faolan and Kosse to eat. I have to speak to your father for a minute.”
“Okay, Mama.” He reached up and kissed Lucien on the cheek before running to his mother and kissing her as well. Full of happiness, he left with Faolan and Kosse who stopped by Ciara to get pats as well.
Lucien stared at her with mistrust. Sliding out of bed, he put on the shirt she held out to him. When she sat down on the bed, he remained standing.
“I am pretty sure that Bryn has spoken to you about what he talked to me about. I felt that you should know, while I did do this for him it wasn’t all for him. I do want to marry you.” She caught his gaze and held it with her own. “I would only hope that you realize I can’t change overnight and some of your customs will take me a while to get used to. That is all I have to say, so I will let you finish dressing. I’ll see you downstairs.” She rose and slipped out of the room before he could formulate a sentence.
* * * *
Lucien ate dinner at the Trenton house. After he had drunk some after-dinner port with the viscount, he found Ciara sitting outside in the garden by herself on a bench. She was bathed by the moonlight and looked at peace.
She was sitting cross-legged on the bench, enjoying the cool night air and the scents that came with it. Listening to the bugs and night birds that croaked, chirped and sang made her breathe easier. She wore a loose-fitting dress, the one she had worn for dinner. It was a navy blue.
Lucien knew she didn’t wear any of the corsets or stays that most women did under a dress. Knowing her, she was probably barefoot or wearing moccasin slippers. He pulled his cravat loose as he approached her.
“Ciara. What are you doing out here?”
Without opening her eyes, she answered him. “Faolan and Kosse are off hunting and I am enjoying the outdoors. What are you doing here? I thought you would be going home by now.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” The question was lighthearted but the meaning behind it was not.
“No. You should probably know, however, that my aunt wants to go all out for this wedding. If she has her way, it won’t be ready for a good six months or so. She wants everyone around to know.”
“And you? What do you want?” He sat beside her on the bench and smiled as he saw one moccasin-clad foot peeking out from under her dress.
“I don’t really care. I don’t know most of the people she says she wants to invite anyway. I don’t like the idea of being put on display.” Her voice was heavy with a passiveness that was not like her—it was full of resignation.
“Are you having regrets about saying yes?”
“No. It’s not that. Well, not in the way you are thinking. I am having to give up my freedom. That is hard for me to accept. Not marrying you.” Her lids raised and he found himself ensnared by her whiskey eyes. “Never about marrying you.”
“Would you like to have a quiet ceremony? I am afraid that you will have to go to breakfasts and such, as people will want to meet you. But I can have a special license by tomorrow if that would make it easier on you.”
“Tomorrow? You can do that?”
“For you. Anything.” He pulled her into his arms. “I want you to be happy. We will have to go into town for a while, but we can come back to Heartstone if you wish.”
“And Faolan and Kosse?”
“They will come with, of course. You will have to ride sidesaddle and never faster than a trot, while in town.” He finished in a rush at her look of horror.
“And my dress?”
“In the house you can wear anything. When going out, a dress befitting your station.” He searched her face for the glint of defiance he knew his pronouncement would bring. It came, but disappeared quicker than he would have thought.
“I will have to take this one day at a time. Can’t I just stay here?”
“And have people laugh at me that my wife stays with her family instead of me?” He raised his voice with censure. “No. Your place is with me.”
Ciara sighed. “I meant at Heartstone. Instead of going to London, couldn’t I just stay there?”
She gripped her dress with a grip that almost whitened her knuckles showing how distressed the conversation was making her.
“We will have to go to London, for a little while at least. You may like it there. Rafe and Devonna will come with us and we will be in Rafe’s townhome.” He kissed her on her temple. “I have to go get the license. We will wed tomorrow. I will bring Rafe and Devonna to stand as witnesses. All right?”
When she didn’t answer, he turned her and tipped her face up to his. She was at war with herself. She nodded and slipped off his lap and walked to the edge of the garden.
Lucien followed. There was something wrong. She was not as happy as she should be. He gathered her in his arms and placed a very thorough kiss on her lips. Eyes darkened with desire and bodies responded. He set her down with reluctance and walked away with only a “Goodnight, princess.”
* * * *
Lucien rode to the Trenton house accompanied by Rafe and a very excited Devonna. Potter met them at the door and smiled as he opened the door to admit them.
“Where is my fiancée, Potter?”
“My niece is out riding.” Aunt Fiona swept into the room, looking very bright in her orange dress.
“Well, we are early. Where is she riding at? I will go meet her.” Lucien looked down at the woman who was to become his aunt by marriage. She was very vibrant and, if her brother, Ciara’s father, had been anything like her, it was not any wonder that Ciara was so full of life.
“Perhaps she needs to be alone for a bit. We need to talk. Perhaps Lord Harrington would like to take Lady St. Martin to see the gardens, while we chat.”
Rafe bowed to Fiona and led Devonna off to the gardens. Lucien followed her into a sitting room that was bright yellow. At her wave, he settled himself onto a settee and waited for her to begin.