Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess

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Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess Page 21

by K. J. Jackson


  “It is good to hear, my lady.”

  Filbert stepped out from under the umbrella to open the carriage door. He assisted her onto the carriage step, and Reanna froze, half in, half out of the carriage.

  The bastard was sitting there.

  “Reanna, please, come in. You will catch a chill out there.” Killian was sitting in the back corner, ankle resting on his knee, relaxed as though he owned the very air around him.

  “I will, if you would be so kind as to exit immediately.” Her voice was ice.

  “I am afraid I cannot do that. The chill out there is even worse than the one in here.”

  Reanna lifted her foot already in the carriage to back down to the street, but Killian shot forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the coach.

  She landed awkwardly on the backward facing bench.

  Stunned, Filbert stood outside the door with gaping mouth.

  Killian didn’t look at him, his eyes were trained on Reanna trying to right herself. “Filbert, if you please, drive. Drive anywhere. Just close the door and drive.”

  Indecision clear with his stutter, he looked back and forth between Killian and Reanna. “My lady?”

  She tossed a hostile glance at Killian, who still held her arm firmly, before she turned to Filbert. “It is fine, Filbert. Do as he says. My home shall be fine. I will let you know if I need assistance.”

  With a quick nod, Filbert closed the door and collapsed the carriage steps.

  Reanna jerked her arm away from Killian’s grip.

  “Their loyalty so quickly wanes,” Killian muttered.

  “You question his loyalty to me?”

  “I did hire him.”

  “Is the choice between us that hard?” she said, not hiding the venom in her voice.

  Killian cocked an eyebrow at her remark, but said nothing. He moved back, sitting on the middle bench, brown eyes running over her body, head to toe.

  “What is it that you want, Killian? I thought we both understood that I want nothing more to do with you.”

  “We do. But that does not preclude the fact that I still want things to do with you.”

  Reanna’s hand went to her forehead—she could feel it starting to pound. “Killian, please, what do you want? I do not have time for this.”

  “I wanted to tell you a few things I did not get a chance to the other day.”

  Reanna eyed him warily. “If I listen, will you leave me alone?”

  “Honestly, no. I do not intend to ever leave you alone. But what I say may make my presence in your life a bit more acceptable.”

  Reanna shook her head, crossing her arms over her waist. “I doubt it will.” She sighed, waving a white-gloved hand. “Fine. Speak what you need to speak.”

  For a moment, Killian looked unsure. Reanna wondered if he had expected her to put up more resistance. She just wanted him gone, out of sight. And if listening to him was the fastest way to that end, then he could speak all he wanted to.

  “Reanna, when you said I had no conscience, gave no thought to who I might hurt in my quest for revenge, you were right. Completely right. I did not think. I did not consider for one second what my actions might do to an innocent such as yourself.”

  “I am no innocent.”

  Killian’s mouth tightened as he stared at her. Then he shook his head, voice raw. “No. No, you are not. But you were, and I ruined that.”

  Her eyes darted to the lower corner of the carriage. Hearing him say those words, even though they were true, made her heart heavy. He had done this to her. She had to remember that.

  A thick silence enveloped them until she raised her eyes to his, waiting for him to continue.

  “It happened a long time ago, and I cannot even tell you when, but my life, what I did in it, it did not matter if what I was doing was right or wrong, it only mattered that I achieve my goal. Reaching my goal, having my revenge, was the only thing that mattered, because it was the only thing I knew how to do. It was who I was. And you were just a tool in that, just a pawn.”

  Reanna drew a shaky breath. She did not want to hear this again. “You are not telling me anything new, Killian. And I would prefer to not have to, once more, listen to how you used me.”

  “No, Reanna,” Killian snapped forward, voice hard, “you will listen to this, because I am most assured you did not hear this the first time.”

  He paused and took a deep breath, regaining his control, but didn’t lean away from her. “You were a pawn. You were the completion of my revenge. You were all of that. All of that until our wedding night.”

  “Our wedding night?” Reanna’s mind raced. What had he said about their wedding night? She had been so angry a fortnight ago, she didn’t even remember much of their conversation. Just red in her mind. Her limbs shaking. Snippets of words.

  Killian grabbed her knees, one in each hand. “When we made love, Reanna, when I touched you. You, naked in front of me. Under me. I saw you for the first time. Hell, I actually saw everything for the first time in years. Everything outside of my revenge. A whole world. You got to something deep within me that I cannot describe. Something I did not know existed. But it was something that did not align with my goals. With what I thought I needed.”

  “And that was?”

  “The revenge against your father. I was not ready for you. I was not ready to give up what I had quested after for almost my whole life. To give up my whole reason for being. All because when I touched you, I actually felt something. To give up everything after only one night with you? Madness.”

  “So instead you banished me? Even though I loved you?” She forced the flat words out.

  “It was all I could think to do. It was what I thought I wanted, needed. I did not understand you, your love, or what I was feeling.”

  “How hard was it to understand I loved you? Adored you? Would have done anything for you?”

  He shook his head. “I was terrified, and my fear blinded me. I needed to get rid of you. Of every memory. Of every touch. And I did it more cruelly than I intended. You will never know how much I would give to erase my words from the day after our wedding. From the days at Holloton.”

  Reanna took a deep breath, hoping to gain balance, but instead, only the spice of his scent filled her, spinning her head. “So what do you want from me now?”

  “I know I should let you go. Let you live in peace. You deserve it.” His hands tightened on her legs. “But dammit, Ree, I am going to be selfish. I openly admit to it. As much as you deserve to be let go, I cannot do it. I want you. I need my wife. I need you in my life, your light. You are my whole damn purpose. That I even dare to ask is ludicrous, but I want a second chance from you. Even if I don’t deserve it.”

  “Killian…” Her eyes closed, fighting what she saw in his face. Honesty. Remorse. Desire.

  Even with her eyes shut, the raw, guttural longing that threatened her very soul invaded the air around her.

  “We proved it, Reanna. We proved the truth while you were healing. How much I want you.” His voice went low, slow, as his hands moved up her legs, thumbs brushing the inside of her thighs through her blue muslin dress. “How much you want me. How our bodies need to be together.”

  She cracked her eyes open to him.

  “Your body. Your heart. They know you are mine. It is only your head.” His right hand moved upward, fingers going into the hair at her temple, his thumb moving across her forehead. “This beautiful mind of yours that denies me. That refuses me. That holds you steadfast against me.”

  He moved forward, his forehead touching hers as his hand moved to her neck. “But I know, Ree. I know your heart, your body, are stronger than your mind. I do not accept the thought that there is no room in your heart for me. I know you can love me again.”

  Her eyes slid closed again at his words, both fighting and willing him onward at the same time. They sat, breath melding, his fingers on her skin, unmoving, while drops of rain pattered on the coach roof.

  T
he carriage stopped.

  Against her pounding heart, against her body that Killian recognized was aching for him, Reanna’s mind surged, and she leaned to her side, breaking the touch.

  “No, Killian, this is too much. This…this time is worse than before. I want this—you—so badly. In a way I never knew possible. In a real way. The week we had together. I truly believe it was real. That you were real. You made me want this. But if I am wrong…the pain…” She shook her head, holding her breath as she slid along the bench. “This is too much for me to take in. I need to go inside. I need to think. Please, just leave. Take the carriage.”

  Silently, Killian nodded, and moved back, tapping the carriage ceiling. But then he grabbed her wrist before she could escape.

  “Take as much time as you need, Reanna. But I am not disappearing. You are my wife, and I intend to make you so in every sense of the word.” He loosened his hold on her wrist. “And if you need anything—anything—for yourself or for the children, please tell the secretary I hired for you. He meets with my man every other day.”

  Reanna nodded silently. She barely saw his face before her, for his words had clouded her mind, clouded the orderly existence she had created for herself since she had left his townhouse a fortnight ago.

  The carriage door opened, and she got out of the coach, sheltered by Filbert’s umbrella.

  { Chapter 19 }

  Reanna leaned against the closed front door of the Brook Street townhouse. She had surprised herself by making it all the way in, instead of turning and running back into Killian’s arms.

  He was right.

  Damn her own heart. Her body. She was his, and he knew it. Hell. She knew it.

  Even after everything. After the truth of his revenge. After what he did to her father. She still wanted him.

  And it was undeniable when he was right in front of her.

  She sighed, clunking her head against the door. As she looked up the flights of stairs and the balconies on each level, the silence hit her. She had honestly hoped to get lost in the bustle of the children, but it was silent.

  Miss Collier crossed the balcony above her and was a step into one of the rooms, when Reanna stepped forward, head craned to her. “Miss Collier, why is it so quiet?”

  A finger went to her lips as Miss Collier stepped to the railing, whispering down to Reanna. “It be a near miracle. The little ones are all napping at once. Thomas and the older ones are with the tutor lady on the top floor. They made some sort of science machine to capture rain and figure out how fast it be falling. Who wants to know that? It’s heavy, it’s heavy, I say. No need to know how fast. But Thomas in particular was mighty excited by it. So you have the main level to yourself, mi’ lady.”

  Reanna nodded, amazed. The household was in perfect order since Killian had hired more nannies and had Miss Collier take over the running of the place.

  “Miss Collier, wait,” Reanna whispered. “The mother, Pertie, and her baby boy. How are they?”

  “Mother and baby are sleeping in the end room, third floor. The doc tended to her, said her nose is broken, but will heal fine. The baby is well.”

  “Good. Thank you.” Reanna nodded. She regretted having to leave for the appointment with Cynthia’s future parents after the drama with Pertie this morning. But if the woman was resting, Reanna was not about to wake her.

  Reanna turned and walked into the study across from the front parlor. If she couldn’t get lost in the bustle of the children, perhaps numbing her brain with numbers would take her mind off of Killian. Besides, she had been putting off much of the financials since the secretary Killian had hired had deftly taken over managing the household’s payments.

  Ten minutes after diving into the numbers, a loud banging on the door jerked her head upright. She stood from the desk, rushing into the foyer, annoyed that Killian was interrupting her so soon after she asked to be alone. And now he threatened to wake up the whole household and disturb the fleeting peace.

  But it wasn’t Killian at the door.

  It was a heaving, fisted, filthy drunk brute of a man.

  Instant fear enveloped Reanna, and she yanked at the door handle, trying to close the door, but she was too slow. Fury shook his body as he rushed her, ripping her hand from the door, pushing her back into the foyer.

  His hand wrapped around her throat, shoving her against the wall.

  “Where be me woman, bitch?” The man yelled into her face, his breath full of green teeth and alcohol, stinging Reanna’s senses.

  He banged Reanna’s head against the wall, hitting a mirror and sending it crashing to the floor. Breath choked off, Reanna clawed at his arm, fingernails digging into hairy flesh. The arm didn’t move.

  “Where the fuck? The boy? Where be the boy?”

  Reanna knew immediately who he was demanding. Pertie and her baby.

  She would die before she let this bastard near them.

  He loosened his grip on her throat. “Talk, woman.”

  “I don’t know who—”

  The grip collapsed on her neck, and he shoved her up the wall, jerking her toes off the floor.

  “Stop ya lyin’ ya little bitch. Oi know she came here. Where the ‘ell is she?”

  A fist flew in front of Reanna’s face.

  But it missed her completely, crashing into the jaw of the man.

  His hand ripped off her throat, and Reanna dropped, falling to the floor. It took her a second to open her eyes and realize the man was now in a crumbled heap on the floor, a boot kicking him mercilessly, pulverizing.

  Killian.

  She pushed herself up, back supported by the wall, hands on her crushed throat, just as Killian wedged the man’s neck under his boot.

  “Are you all right, Ree?” Killian glanced at her, brown eyes furious.

  She nodded.

  Killian turned his attention back to the man pinned on the shiny hardwood floor. His bloodied eyes were wide as he stared up at Killian.

  “I would kill you now,” Killian seethed, “but I don’t think my wife should have to witness the grotesqueness that is a man dying of breath. A man grasping to the last shreds of life. Shall I ask her to leave the room?”

  The man managed to shake his head, converging panic and lack of air turning his face purple. One of his arms looked broken, limp on the floor, but the other managed to go weakly to Killian’s ankle, trying to push him off.

  Killian bent over the man, letting his boot dig into the man’s windpipe. “It appears we have a situation. I can either kill you now, or if you would rather, I can have my driver deliver you to the docks, and throw you in a ship hold, never to be seen in England again. If you are lucky, you will live. If not, your injuries will bless you with a slow, painful death. Either way it develops, it is agreeable to me, as it will remove you from this land. Would you like to die now, or be delivered to the docks?”

  Killian eased his boot up, allowing the man to gasp for air and sputter, “Docks.”

  The boot went solidly back down.

  “Fine. But if you are ever seen in this city again, you will be killed on sight. That is a guarantee from me.” Killian leaned down even further, death in his voice. “Do we have an understanding?”

  The man nodded as vigorously as Killian’s boot allowed, and Killian eased up his foot.

  Filbert appeared next to Killian, rope in hand. He quickly yanked up the man’s broken arm, sending the man writhing into pain.

  “Well done, Filbert.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  Filbert quickly tied the man’s hands behind his back, and yanked him to his knees, then feet. He started to drag him out into the rain.

  “You heard what to do with him, Filbert?”

  “I did, my lord.”

  “Stop by my main shipping office to find out what would be the best ship to toss him on.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Killian followed them and closed the door as Filbert dragged the man down the stairs.
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  Fighting for breath, Reanna went to her knees and started picking up the pieces of glass from the mirror, fingers shaking uncontrollably.

  Killian’s sudden hand on her shoulder made her jump, and she dropped the few pieces she had managed to gather onto his Hessians.

  “Oh, Killian, I am…I am sorry.” The words were scratchy coming out of her raw throat. She began to brush the shards off his boots.

  He came down to her level, balancing on his heels, and grabbed her wrists, turning her hands palm up.

  “Stop. You are bleeding.” He stood and pulled her to her feet.

  “But the children. I have to clean it.”

  “And you are shaking. Miss Collier will handle it.” He looked up the staircase, and Reanna’s eyes followed, only to see Miss Collier already hurrying down the steps, broom in hand.

  Killian pulled her into him, enveloping her entire body into his arms, his chest. He walked her backward, guiding them into the study, closing the door behind them. Reanna could hear him flip the lock on the door.

  Her eyes stayed closed, her forehead buried on his hard chest. She couldn’t control her tremors, no matter how many breaths she took.

  But Killian had her. One arm around her back, one deep in her hair. He had her. Safe.

  She swallowed hard through her throat that felt half its normal width. It took long minutes, but Killian didn’t break the hold, didn’t speak, until her shaking subsided.

  With a deep breath, she lifted her head.

  He looked down at her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I don’t know…I don’t know what I would have done…”

  “Do not think on that.” Killian stroked her hair. “He is gone. What—who—did he want?”

  “A mother, Pertie, came here this morning. She was beaten, broken nose, and she had a baby she wanted to leave with us. She was sure he was going to kill the two of them. So I insisted she stay as well. They are upstairs.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  She pulled away. “I should check on her.”

  Killian didn’t loosen his hold. “Miss Collier will do so. You need to sit.”

 

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