The Princess and the Marquess

by Aliyah Burke

  “I hope you are proud of yourself, brother, for I am ashamed of you. Take me home, Rafe.” His sister and her husband left him there in his room.

  In an instant he was stone sober. He raked a hand through his hair and looked at the bed where the note lay sealed. It was his seal on it. Hands trembling, he opened it and read.

  I have come to the realization that you do not need a wife.

  You have an heir and so now you can go about and do that which every other member of your class does. Fine.

  I am taking my son somewhere for him to learn about life.

  And love. I don’t think you will need to reach me, but if for some reason you do, give the note to my Aunt Fiona for she will see that it gets to me. Don’t bother them, for they will tell you nothing. I hope the life you are leading brings you happiness.

  Take care, Wolf.

  The note fell from nerveless fingers as the reality of what he had done came crashing down on him. She was gone. Truly gone. He felt empty in a way he never knew that he could. He cleaned himself up and called for a mount. He had some serious work to do. He had to find a way to win her back. He had lost her twice now and he wasn’t about to do so again.

  * * * *

  Three months later

  After he knocked on the door, he straightened his cravat. Potter opened the door and stepped back to admit him. “They are in the library, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Potter. I know the way.” He waved off the butler and walked down the hall. After knocking on the door, he waited until he heard a voice from within.

  “Enter.”

  Lucien pushed open the door and found himself looking at a very somber woman and her husband. For once, Fiona was wearing dark colors. “Lord and Lady Harrington. Thank you for seeing me.”

  “Come in and sit down, my lord.” Trenton spoke. Fiona assessed.

  “I came to ask if you would tell me where my wife is?”

  “No,” Fiona spat. “She said you weren’t to be told.”

  “She is my wife.”

  “You dishonored her.” Green eyes narrowed in challenge.

  “Fi, enough. Let him say his piece.” Trenton patted his wife on the arm and, although he received a glare for his words, she clamped her mouth shut.

  “Look. Since I got the note from her, I have done nothing but worry. I am staying out at Heartstone and haven’t drunk a drop. If that matters. I feel horrible about the way I treated her and wish to make it up to both her and our son. I miss my wife. I just—”

  “Did you miss her those two months she was here and you were out with your women? Or the ones that she has been gone from here?” Fiona’s eyes flashed with fury.

  Lucien couldn’t meet her gaze. It was embarrassing. He had behaved like his father had, and worse. “I just would like to send her a note. Would you do that for me?” He felt the chasm between him and his wife deepening.

  “Yes. We can do that. Leave the note on the table.” Trenton spoke before his wife could. “Do you have one ready?”

  “Yes. Yes I do.” Lucien handed the note over, only to flinch as Trenton dropped it onto the table. The man didn’t even want to hold it.

  His gaze cut back to Lucien. “Was there anything else?”

  “Have you heard from her? Is she all right?”

  “Potter.” The butler came and took Lucien’s note along with one from Fi. When the man had left, Trenton looked back at him. “Yes, I have heard from her. She is well, as well as can be expected. Lucky for us, she is a strong woman.”

  “I never meant to hurt her.” Lucien’s voice was low.

  “I would have a word with him, Trenton. Leave us.”

  Lucien was surprised at her tone and even more so when her husband stood.

  “Go easy on him, Fiona. He realizes what he did was wrong.” Trenton left them alone.

  “I was sorry at first that I encouraged the two of you to wed. I should have realized that it would never work. She tried to tell me over and over again. Regardless of her feelings for you, she knew she could never fit into your world. And yet she tried.

  “You took everything away from her. How could you do that? You tried to make her into one of the simpering fools that parade around trying to land a rich husband. You hurt her. I warned you not to take her for granted.

  “Regardless of the rumors she heard, and the stares that she endured, she stood by you and defended you against those that would slander your name. She is only human. When she saw you with that ‘woman’, it was too much.

  “I don’t know why I am telling you this for she didn’t want me to. But I will. When she arrived here months ago, she was carrying your baby. When she took care of your father, she was carrying your baby. She was always ready to give you another chance. But you had to blow it. You threatened her.

  “I hope you realize what you lost. There will never be another woman like her, for you. She can’t be caged. If you had just showed her that you cared after the wedding, she would have tried. You didn’t. You pushed her to do things that she didn’t want to do. I hope you realize what you have done.

  “You killed her spirit. Her heart.”

  Fiona left the room.

  Carrying your baby. She was carrying his baby. What had he done? He had to find her. Ireland. He would head to Ireland.

  * * * *

  A very tired, very dirty English marquess stood waiting in the great hall of an old castle in Ireland as he waited for the laird three and a half months later than when he had started out.

  “Papa! Papa! You came. Mama said you might.”

  Lucien grabbed his son as he jumped on him. He held him tight as he blinked back tears. God, he had missed holding his boy. He had grown, but his eyes were still the same.

  “What brings you here, English?” Conar. The large man strode into the great room. The man still looked larger than life, and he didn’t seem too pleased to see Lucien there.

  “I am looking for my wife. Is she here?”

  “Bryn. Run and find your grandpa.” As the boy scampered away, Conar looked at the man standing by the fire. “I thought you would be here sooner, English. Your wife is not here.”

  “Don’t lie to me. I know she is here. Our son is here. Where is she? I just spent three and a half months finding this place.” He was rigid with fury.

  Conar was also furious. Lucien found that out when he went down with a grunt from the right hook that came at him out of nowhere to hit him in the eye.

  Bryn and the laird came into the room. At the sight of Lucien on the floor, the laird grinned.

  “Ye’re late, lad. She’s gone. Come sit, we will eat and drink.”

  Within moments, Lucien found himself in the middle of a meal with his in-laws. It was unnerving. His eye was swollen and very painful. They were large and staring at him like they would love to rend him limb from limb. The food was good, and the drink warm. Rory Cormac McKay, Ciara’s grandpa, didn’t seem to be in any hurry to answer his questions.

  “Do you know where she is?” he asked her grandfather.

  “Nae. I don’t know.”

  “Papa, did you come to take me home?”

  “Would you like to come home with me?” He hoped the desire wasn’t too plain for his son to hear in his voice.

  “Aye. Mama said you may not wish to take me but I could ask. She dinna say I had to wait here for them to return.”

  “Them?”

  “Aye. Mama and my sister.”

  “Sister? I have a daughter?” Lucien looked at her grandfather, Rory, for confirmation of the news.

  “Aye. A daughter. She is like you in every way, except for her eyes. She has her mother’s eyes, she does. Keely Lucina St. Martin. That is the name she gave her bairn.” Rory let the man digest the news.

  Lucien gave a broad smile as he ran the name over in his head. Keely Lucina. She was named after him. A daughter. “Where are they? When are they coming back? How long ago did she leave?”

  “I don’t know when they w
ill return. There is a note for you. She left it in case you showed up here. She left close to a month ago. Conar, get him the note.”

  Lucien waited with impatience as Conar retrieved it and handed it over. He ripped open the note and read it.

  I must admit I am surprised you cared to make it this far. That must mean something. You have a daughter of which I am sure you have been made aware. I hope you take Bryn with you, he missed you so. I have been doing a lot of thinking and believe that I am ready to try again. I will be back and we can discuss what we are going to do. Take care of my, our son. Go home and spend time with him. For what it’s worth, I forgive you.

  I forgive you. He could do anything with her beside him. He would make it right.

  Lucien looked over at his son who was chatting away with a cousin and nodded. It was time for him to get to know his son. He looked at Rory and watched the old man for a bit. He was proud like his father, but he loved his grandchildren.

  “Did she take Faolan and Kosse with her?” He hoped that she had some protection with her.

  “Papa, Faolan died. She took Kosse with her, though.”

  “How did he die?” He winced as he realized that he should have been there to support her during the loss of her friend.

  “Protecting her.” Conar spoke up, not disguising that he blamed Lucien for that too. “When do you leave, English?”

  “In the morning, if there is an invitation to stay the night? My son and I will leave in the morning. Protecting her from what?”

  “You are family. Of course you can stay.” Rory rose and stopped by the chair that Lucien sat in, completing ignoring his other question. “Don’t hurt her again. I won’t stand for it.” Waving a hand around the room, he added, “None of us will. We love the lass. If she had not made us give our word, you would not be breathing right now for the pain you caused her.”

  “So do I.” As he said it, he realized just how much. He had always loved her, but now he needed her love in return. “Bryn, care to show me around?”

  “Sure, Papa. Let’s go.” He took his father’s hand and dragged him off to parts unknown. He realized they weren’t planning on speaking of what happened to him.

  Lucien ended up staying in Ireland for a week. When he and Bryn left, Rory had given them a pair of wolfhound pups for the siblings to have, named Thor and Loki. With his son riding on Toka, he shook the hand of the Laird of Clan McKay, his grandfather by marriage. His eye was just a little swollen now and he realized how lucky he was that Conar had hit him only once. That man had a fist like a hammer.

  “Take care o’ my great-granddaughter. And her mother.”

  “I will.” When I find her. “Are you sure you don’t know where she went? America?”

  “I don’t know. I would tell you if I did. Safe journey. Be good, lad, mind your father.”

  “Bye, Grandpa.” Bryn waved as they rode off, followed by thirteen members of the clan escorting them to the ship that would take them back to England.

  Chapter Thirty

  England

  Ten months later

  A black horse, bearing a hooded figure cloaked in black, trotted up the long drive made of crushed rocks and shells and came to a stop at the large house that sat at the apex of the curve. It was like they had just materialized out of the lingering mist. There were eight horses roped together to follow the one in front. All of them had steam blowing from their nostrils and rising from their burnished coats in the early morning sun that was melting away the last remaining fog. They were an amazing-looking bunch of cattle.

  Loping with ease beside the lead horse was a tawny mountain lion and a small gray pup. A silent footman took the reins as the rider and her bundle dismounted, smiling not only to himself but to all those present as he led the horses to the stables. It was promising to be a wonderful day.

  Entering the silent house, the cloaked figure nodded at the butler who stood in shock at the sight. It was as if his serious demeanor had never existed for his mouth was hanging open. After hugging and kissing a passing child for a few moments and handing a small bundle to him as well as the care of the two animals, the figure walked down the hall toward the study, steps, sure and yet silent. The person stopped outside the door, then a hand reached out from beneath the folds of the cloak, and knocked sharply on the door.

  “Enter.” The deep voice streamed through the door and sent ripples of desire and longing through the person hearing it.

  Swinging the door open on soundless hinges, the figure stepped into the room, saying nothing, just searching. The man at the desk was facing the window, looking out toward the forest, looking for something lost, something that had gone. A carved statue sat on one corner of the desk—it was the image of a leaping wolf.

  “What did you need, Weeks?” He still faced the window but stilled as a familiar scent flowed to his nose.

  “Hello, Wolf.” The smooth, husky voice made him drop the papers on his lap then hit the floor as he jumped out of his chair and headed toward the vision.

  “Ciara. It’s you. You’re really here?” Lucien moved around the desk but stopped right in front of her.

  His movements became hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure his touch would be welcome.

  As if after thirteen long months, it would just turn out to be another figment of his imagination. “Take off your hood. Let me see your face.”

  She pushed back the hood with one hand, and raised her gaze to the blue eyes of the man who held the key to her soul. Her heart. Her being. When he reached for her, she stepped back. “Wait.”

  Lucien didn’t want to wait. But he did. His look filled with love and tears. “What?” The agony in his voice was clear to her, and to him. He didn’t care.

  Ciara reached beneath her cloak and pulled out a carved box. She set it on his desk and stood back. He recognized the box—it was the one from her parents, the one that had been full with the gold and gems in it, the one with the mix of African and Celtic cultures etched on the sides. “This box must adorn the place I call home.” She stared without blinking at him as she waited for the meaning to sink in.

  His voice shaking with emotion, he asked, “Does this mean what I think it means? Are you coming home to stay?”

  “Aye, if you will have me. Us.”

  Releasing a breath, he enfolded her in his arms. “Always. Oh, always. I love you.” He pressed his nose into her hair and inhaled her scent as the tension flowed out of his body after so long. “I love you, and I will never let you go again. I am so sorry for the way I treated you. I never did anything with those women.”

  “I’m sorry as well.” She pulled back and reached up to cup his face. “Would you like to meet your daughter?”

  A wide grin split his face and he looked around anxiously. “Where is she?”

  “With Bryn, Kosse and Remy.” At her words, the study door swung open and admitted his son holding a small bundle, followed by Kosse and the one who must be Remy. It was a gray wolf cub. Lucien chuckled for his home would never be the same. Bryn walked over and placed the babe in his father’s arms, stepping back to be held by his mother.

  Lucien flipped back the blanket and saw her sleeping. She was beautiful. She had her father’s facial features but they fit her. She would grow up to be like her mother, strong and graceful. As he was staring, she opened her eyes. Whiskey gold.

  Keely’s face wrinkled and her lower lip trembled as she tried to decide whether the man looking down at her was worth crying for. Lucien ran a finger down her soft tan cheek and was rewarded with a smile. It knocked his socks off and made his knees weaken. She had her mother’s smile.

  Looking over at the woman who had given him two children, he saw her holding her son, speaking to him in her mother’s language, which Bryn had begun to teach him. They were speaking way too fast for him to understand. The one thing he did understand as he sat down on the couch, with his daughter in his arms, a mountain lion and a wolf cub lying at his feet, was that he had his family. Compl
etely. And he was going to keep them. They were his heaven.

  Lucien watched as his daughter fell back to sleep. He smiled at his son when he sat down by Kosse on the floor, rubbing the thick pelt of the friend he had missed. Ciara sat down beside him and looked at him. “I know that there are things we still need to discuss.”

  “It is all over. I have you back and that is all that matters to me.” He reached out one hand and cupped her face. “I love you, Ciara. I will tell you that every day until you believe me. I am sorry that I was not there for you when you lost Faolan. I know that I killed your spirit and your heart. We will stay here at Heartstone. If you wish to wear pants, then you will do so. All that matters to me is your happiness. I want the woman from the wilds of America. The wild, untamed princess that I lost my heart to. The woman that taught me how to live life. My wife. My heart.”

  One of those rare smiles crossed her face, making it light up. “I do believe you. For the longest time they called me ‘heart of the mountain.’ I found that you are my mountain and if I am not with you I am without my heart. I love you as well, Lucien.”

  It was a good thing he was sitting down. Lucien. His eyes widened as he looked at her. “Lucien, you called me Lucien.”

  “Aye, husband. That is your name, is it not?”

  “What about Wolf?”

  “I don’t sense that wildness about you anymore.”

  “Say it again.”

  “What? That I don’t sense that wildness about you anymore?”

  “No, the other. The part before that.”

  “I love you. Lucien.”

  He leaned in to kiss her. “Never stop saying my name. I love hearing it upon your lips. Do you think that I can welcome you home in private now?”

  “Aye.” Turning to their son, he said, “Bryn. Watch your sister for a while. She can be outside in the sun if you wish to go. Nyama is here along with the rest of the herd, Epona as well.”

  “Okay, Mama.” Rising, he took his sister out of his father’s arms and left with Kosse and Remy following.