Marcus scrubbed his chin as a smile stretched his lips. “Did you hear me actually call Mrs. Westland my mistress? Did you actually hear I was to meet her here? Tonight?”
Dread washed through her as doubt filled her. She had been wrong. His irritated expression told her she’d been very wrong. “Uh, no, not exactly. But when I saw you two in town, the woman touched you improperly. What was I to think, dear husband, especially since she had come to see me right before our wedding? She practically issued me a challenge that night. Then I see her with you. In public, no less.”
He chuckled and stepped forward. His hands snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. Still upset, her first reaction was to squirm and place her hands on his chest to keep from getting any closer. Instead, once her hands met his hard muscles, her body had a mind of its own. Without wanting to, she surrendered and melted against him.
“Thank you for being jealous,” he whispered.
She gasped, appalled by his statement. Before she could voice her opinion, he brought his mouth down and covered hers. Heat consumed her quickly, just as it had always done while being held by this incredible handsome man. His kiss entranced her. Again.
In surrender, she linked her arms around his neck and relaxed, meeting his demanding kiss with urgency. His hands wandered over her back, pulling her closer. She sighed heavily. Than he broke the kiss, and rested his cheek against hers. Ragged breaths fanned her ear.
“Oh, my darling wife,” he whispered. “I swear to you there’s no other woman in my life.” He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. Passion filled their depths. “Why would I seek other company when my wife pleases me beyond reason?”
“But, I saw… I heard…”
He shook his head. “And you misunderstood.” He stroked her cheek before his fingers moved down the column of her throat. “Yes, Mrs. Westland accosted me in public by the docks, but I didn’t encourage it. The reason you overheard my valet and I talking about her in my study was because I wanted my servant to take care of the woman tonight.” He brushed his lips across hers briefly. “I don’t need Mrs. Westland. Not when I have such a loving wife.”
Using both hands, he cupped her face and kissed her again. Longer this time. His gentle lips moved over hers with such passion, it brought tears to her eyes. Could what he say be true? Oh, how she prayed it was. She’d had her heart broken enough times already.
He broke the kiss again and leaned his forehead against hers. “You do, don’t you?”
“Wh—what?”
“You do love me. Right?”
Longing touched his voice, making her heart leap. Her chest burst with the emotion she didn’t want to admit had been building inside her for a few days. How could she love her husband so soon after Hawk? Yet, she did. Looking into his searching eyes, she knew she had fallen fast for this man.
Slowly, she nodded as her eyes filled with tears. “I do, Marcus. I love you—”
He released a groan and crushed his mouth over hers, silencing her words. She clung to him, answering his urgent kiss.
“Oh, Isabelle. My Isabelle,” he muttered in between pecks. “I wanted you to love me, but was afraid you wouldn’t.” His lips trailed across her cheek to her ear before he nibbled on her lobe.
Tingles shot through her. “Marcus, I couldn’t stop myself. You’re so kind—so wonderful.”
A small laugh escaped his mouth as he nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck. “I wanted to tell you this morning. I wanted to confess my love for you, but I held back, not knowing if you loved me.”
Happiness consumed her very being, and she wanted to share everything she had with this man. Now. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the place to show such an intimate form of expression.
“Marcus? Take me home.”
He growled and lifted her in his arms, meeting her lips with his. She hooked her arms around his neck.
He carried her to his horse and sat her on before mounting behind her. As they passed her mare, he grabbed the reins and pulled the animal along.
She suddenly remembered the conversation she’d overheard during tonight’s meeting, and with it came panic. No matter how she looked at it, Marcus was a traitor. If caught, he would be arrested and punished. Worry wrenched through her whole body, making her tremble.
“Marcus?”
“Yes, my love.”
She smiled, loving the way he said that. “Will you please tell me about your meeting tonight? Are you, and the other men, traitors?”
He stilled. “I suppose you could say we are traitors. We don’t believe in the taxes King George is putting on us, and if having our own opinions make us traitors, then so be it.”
“But Marcus,” she said looking over her shoulder at him, “King George hangs traitors. If you continue with this group of patriots, you might get caught.”
“Yes, I might, but what if I don’t? What if I—or the others—make a difference? What if we could stop all this insane taxation? What if we could become free men and away from Britain’s hold?”
“By threatening to rise against our mother country while holding rifles with intention to kill?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
He gathered her closer and kissed her cheek. “Isabelle, I know what I’m doing. I also believe in what these men are fighting for. I don’t know what will come of it. Maybe nothing. All I know is I cannot pretend the people over here in the colonies are not suffering because of the King’s harsh taxes.”
She laid her head against his. “Marcus, I don’t think I can watch you die. Now that I found love again, I cannot have it taken away.”
He grinned. “I won’t take it away. I swear to you I’ll make you happy until we are old and gray.”
She smiled. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”
He chuckled. “As long as you hold me, we shall make it. You’ll see.”
* * * *
Isabelle awoke with a smile as love bloomed in her chest. Making love to Marcus last night had been different. More meaningful. She couldn’t count how many times she murmured loving words to him, and how often he repeated them.
Since her time with Hawk, she didn’t believe she could be as happy. Now she was happier.
Marcus rose early in the morning and left the bed before she did. Did that man ever sleep? Before he left, he kissed her brow and told her he had business most of the day. She missed him already.
She climbed out of bed, bathed then dressed. During the morning meal, she tried to think of something that might keep her entertained until her husband’s return, but her mind stayed blank. All she had to keep her busy was memories of her night with Marcus.
Gentry walked in to the dining area carrying a note. “Forgive me for intruding on your meal, my lady, but you have a visitor.” He handed her the card.
She read the name scripted across the top. Earl of Blackstone. She scrunched her forehead, not recalling having met the gentleman. “Gentry? Are you certain this man is here to see me and not my husband?”
“Yes. He specifically asked for you, my lady.”
“Show him into the drawing room and I shall see him momentarily.”
He nodded, turned and left the room.
Isabelle finished eating and dabbed her mouth with the linen napkin. Who was this strange man? She still didn’t know many people in New York, but as soon as her husband started taking her out in public, her situation would change.
She walked into the drawing room and stopped. Standing by the window, an older man leaned on a cane as his gaze locked on something outside. His white periwig covered his true hair color. So far nothing familiar about him made her pause, but then, there was a certain tilt to his head that reminded her of Marcus. He wasn’t as tall, nor as broad through the shoulders. However, the shape of his forehead and nose were like her husband’s. Perhaps they were related somehow.
“Good day, Lord Blackstone.”
He straightened and turned. When his gaze met hers, he smiled wide.
He assessed her slowly, and thankfully didn’t show any signs of disgust.
“Lady Lockwood, this is a delight.” He moved toward her with great difficulty, relying heavily on his cane.
She curtsied. “Lord Blackstone, forgive me, but have we met before?”
“Not at all, my dear.” He stopped in front of her, took her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss. “But I couldn’t wait for formalities. Not when my son hasn’t introduced me to his wife yet.”
Shock swept through her and she gasped. “Son? You’re my husband’s father?”
“In the flesh.” He bowed. “As much as I’m vexed with him for not telling me about you, I think he has chosen wisely. You’re a very beautiful woman, if I might say.”
A blush heated her cheeks and she nodded. “You may say all you wish, as long as only compliments come from your mouth.”
He laughed and patted her hand. “Please, let us take a seat and chat. My poor legs aren’t what they used to be.” He led her to the couch and sat.
She adjusted her dress as she lowered into the chair beside him. “I must admit, I’m quite upset with my husband for not mentioning you lived so close. If I had known, I would have forced him to call upon you.”
The older man chuckled and flipped his hand in the air. “I understand how busy Matthew is, which is why I don’t bother him as much.”
Confusion filled her as she narrowed her gaze on her father-in-law. Why did he call his son Matthew? “Yes, he’s very busy. In fact, he’s out right now attending to business.”
“That’s my boy.” He grinned. “He takes after his father, he does. Makes me proud to know I’ve raised Matthew the right way.”
“Lord Blackstone, may I ask you a question?”
“Certainly.”
“You’ll probably think this sounds silly, but… why are you calling my husband Matthew?”
His eyes widened as he looked at her as if she had two heads. “Because that’s his Christian name, my dear. The very name he was given at birth.”
“True, but he told me to call him Marcus.”
The older man sucked in a quick breath. His face flamed, and his eyes darkened. Isabelle studied her father-in-law closely for his answer. Already she knew something wasn’t right. Her heart sank, and she had a very bad feeling she wasn’t going to like his answer.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Marc—Marc—Marcus?”
Lord Blackstone’s stutter turned into a fit of coughs. She rose from her chair and hurried to the table where a picture of water and glass sat. She poured him a fair amount and brought it back to him. “Here, drink this.”
He nodded and sipped the drink. Slowly, his coughs subsided and he breathed deeply.
“Forgive me for upsetting you, my lord.”
“Not your fault. I have a heart condition, and sometimes I cannot breathe well.” He took another sip out of the glass then handed it to her. “Thank you.”
She set the glass on the table and returned to her chair, folding her hands in her lap. Hopefully, he’d want to explain why the name Marcus upset him so.
“So, my dear daughter-in-law, are you telling me Matthew requested you call him Marcus?”
“Yes. The very day we were married, in fact.”
He shook his head. “That makes no sense to me. Marcus is dead.”
“Dead?” She blinked with wide eyes, not quite understanding him. “Do you mean you never called him that name as a child?”
“Absolutely not. Marcus is Matthew’s twin brother. He died very young.”
She let the information sink in, trying to make sense of it. Nothing did. Her head spun with unanswered questions, yet at the same time, something gnawed at her conscience and made her stomach churn. “That’s odd. Why would he want to be called his brother’s name?”
Lord Blackstone shook his head. “I wish I knew. When Matthew comes home, I’ll be eager to hear his excuse.”
The older man’s expression confused her, as well as the name differences. The tone of his voice and the malice in his eyes told her he wasn’t happy with her husband’s name choice.
“Lord Blackstone? Was my husband close to his brother?”
“Never. Marcus was sick from the minute he was born. As the boys grew, Marcus turned sicker, so I moved the family to the country, hoping it would cure his aliment. It didn’t. I kept Matthew away from Marcus, mainly because I didn’t want the boys to become close and have Matthew mourn his twins’ death when it finally happened. Soon, I took Matthew and moved to London to prepare him for his title. His mother died and Marcus lived with his grandmother. It was during those years when his body finally failed and took his life.”
Although the story was sad, familiarity nudged at her memory. Where had she heard this tale before? If she wasn’t mistaken, the sad story sounded so much like…
She gasped then covered her mouth. No! It couldn’t be.
Bits and pieces of conversations with Hawk about his childhood filled her head and confusion expanded in her chest. She stood and walked to the window, willing the doubts to leave posthaste. They wouldn’t. Instead, they grew and festered. Dizziness assailed her.
“My dear? Are you all right?”
She dared not speak for fear she’d lose what little her stomach held of breakfast. Her mind spun, and even the walls seemed to close in on her. Hawk’s voice wouldn’t leave her head, especially when she recalled the story he told about his father… and brother who had gone to Eton, but Hawk had not. Was it possible to have such a similar life or was it too coincidental?
A firm hand clutched her elbow. Her father-in-law brought her out of her thoughts temporarily.
“My dear? Your face has lost its color. I fear you need to lie down or you’ll swoon.”
Nodding, she took a deep breath and allowed him to lead her back to the couch. “I—I don’t know what came over me.” She sat in the sofa and fanned her face. “Forgive me for being out of sorts this morning.”
“Would you like a drink?”
“No, I’m fine now, I assure you.”
“If I had known the story of my sickly son would have upset you, I wouldn’t have said anything.”
She flipped her hand in the air. “Nonsense. I’m fine.” She forced a smile and folded her hands in her lap. “Please tell me more. I’d like to learn more about my husband’s family. He doesn’t talk about them much.”
“Are you certain? You didn’t look too well a moment ago.”
“I feel much better now. Please, go on.” Her heart continued to beat quickly, and bile still churned in her stomach. She didn’t think she could hear more, but she must. She had to know if Hawk and Marcus… She held her breath. Oh, it’s not possible!
He shrugged. “What more would you like to know?”
She really didn’t know. Something that might let her know Hawk’s true identity would help right now. “Well, how about telling me about your wife. You mentioned she died?”
“Yes. I sometimes wonder if she had the same disease poor Marcus had. She died so very young.”
“And I suppose Marcus lived with his maternal grandmother?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Is she still alive?”
“I believe so.”
“What’s her name?” she dared ask.
“Emma Thorne.”
She nodded. “I would really like to meet her.” She took a deep breath to calm her jittery nerves. Thorne… where had she heard that name? Why was it on the tip of her memory? Something deep down inside told her she should know this. As she opened her mouth to continue, a memory rushed through, making her hitch another breath. She’d seen her husband and Mr. Lawrence at Thorne Shipping the other day. She’d talked to a man who described the owner and realized the owner resembled Hawk. The owner’s name was Thorne. Marcus’ grandmother’s last name was Thorne. Her heart quickened with the news. She must investigate this further.
She cleared her throat and continued with the conversation, �
�The only family I have left are my aunt and uncle. I’d love to gain more.”
Lord Blackstone leaned over and patted her hands. “And you will, my dear. You couldn’t have gotten a better father-in-law.” He winked and a twinkle lit his eye.
She laughed, still feeling like she forced it. As much as she wanted to get to know her husband’s father a bit more, she couldn’t sit and chat like nothing else was on her mind. Not now when she needed to decipher the mystery plaguing her. “You’re certainly a treasure, Lord Blackstone.” Standing, she smoothed her hands down her dress. “I hope you’ll excuse me. I have errands to run this morning that I just can’t postpone. I’ll have Gentry show you to a bedroom so you may rest until my husband returns.”
He stood, his cane helping he straighten. “You’re most generous, my dear. I look forward to talking with you again.”
“As do I.”
Hopefully, her father-in-law didn’t think her rude as she hurried out of the drawing room, but her mind wouldn’t rest until she had some answers. Gentry stood nearby, and she called as she passed, “Please see to it that our guest has a room, posthaste.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
She ran up the stairs at an unlady-like pace to her room to fetch her bonnet. Doubts filled her mind, and anger expanded inside her stomach, but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. There must be a simple explanation for all of this since the only thing adding up in her mind was that Hawk and Marcus were the same person.
She hurried to the stable and waited for a carriage to be readied for her drive. Pacing in front of the doors, her head swam with mixed emotion as she tried to sort out everything. She didn’t want to believe her husband had been Hawk this whole time. Hawk had made it abundantly clear the last time they were together that he didn’t want her in his life. So if he didn’t want her, why did he assume Lord Lockwood’s role and marry her? No, there had to be more to the story she couldn’t see.
When the carriage was ready, she bade the driver to hurry to the docks. She must meet the owner of Thorne Shipping. Putting these doubts to rest was essential to her sanity.
Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series) Page 24