Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess

by K. J. Jackson

  She picked up the heavy metal, stepping back from the window, and heaved it with the last shred of power she had.

  It shattered the window, glass flying as the silver dropped through the night air. Rushing to the open pane, Reanna searched the dark woods for the horses.

  No movement. All she saw was darkness.

  She sank to the floor, despair settling into her bones.

  He was gone.

  ~~~

  Killian tore ahead of Halstead on the lane, reaching the main road, not caring if Reanna’s useless father was still with him or not. He was going back to the asylum, and going to knock heads until he found his wife.

  The side trip to the house of the man named Nettle was worthless. After seeing his gold tooth, Killian immediately remembered him from the London street long ago. But the man had been relaxing, half undressed when they banged their way into his home. Killian had discerned rather quickly that the trip was a diversion concocted by Halstead to get Killian away from the asylum.

  A half-mile back to the asylum on the main road, a lone figure on a horse road toward Killian. When the man on the horse pulled up, stopping, Killian did the same.

  “Where is she? Halstead did not produce her?” Devin’s voice was laced with deadly concern.

  Killian looked over his shoulder back down the road. Halstead was not to be seen. “He put her in the asylum up the road. She supposedly escaped last night.”

  “He what? The insane asylum?” Devin half stood in his saddle, anger overtaking.

  “Yes. And she has not been found. Or so they claim. Did you see anything on your way here?”

  Devin shook his head.

  “Anything outside of the inn while I was in with Halstead?”

  Head still shaking, Devin ran a hand through his hair. “No. There was a drunk and whore coming out of the inn, and that was about all.”

  “A drunk and a whore?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “That inn had long-since been abandoned. It did not look like it from the outside, but there wasn’t anyone in it. No one save for Halstead and myself.”

  “You don’t think…”

  “I sure as hell do. Where did they go?”

  “Shit, Killian. It was dark. I didn’t get a look at the woman—I only assumed it was a whore because of the bit of wild hair I saw, and she was stumbling. They left in a carriage. I followed it for a few minutes, and they disappeared down this road. So I went back to the inn.”

  “Bloody hell.” Killian had already turned his horse and was headed back in the direction he came from.

  “What about Halstead?” Devin shouted at his friend’s back as he set his horse into gallop.

  “Not worth our time. Not now.”

  Within minutes, they were tearing up the lane to Nettle’s home. Riding straight to the stables, Killian didn’t bother to dismount at the wide open doors. He pointed in. “Is that the carriage?”

  “It is.” Devin swore under his breath.

  In a flash, Killian was pounding on the front door, pistol drawn in one hand, knife in the other. Devin was only a step behind him.

  “Look.” Devin whispered in his ear.

  Killian followed his eyes to a silver candlestick lying in shards of glass. They both looked up, seeing the broken window above.

  The door swung open at that moment, and Nettle had made no progress in either dressing or undressing since Killian had seen him minutes before.

  Killian’s knife was flat across his bare neck, shoving him back into the foyer before Nettle could get a word out.

  “Where the hell is she?”

  His back forced against the wall below the staircase, Nettle glared at Killian, eyes cold. “Do you mean Lady Southfork? We went through this minutes ago, Lord Southfork. While I was pleased to answer your questions a moment ago, I fear I am beginning to not look lightly upon your intrusion into my home. And my neck.”

  Killian pressed the blade harder. “My wife, Nettle. Or I will gut you where you stand. We know you have her.”

  “I do not have your wife, Southfork. I can assure you—”

  Killian cocked his pistol, pushing it into Nettle’s mouth, cutting him off. He eased the knife from Nettle’s neck.

  “Do you have him, Devin?” Killian asked, eyes not leaving Nettle.

  “Yes.” Devin stepped next to Killian, his own pistol trained on the man.

  “He does not move a muscle.” Killian put his knife and pistol back under his jacket, turned, and rushed up the stairs.

  At the landing at the top, Killian made a quick assessment on which door led to the room that had the broken window. He turned the knob. Locked.

  He took a step back and kicked the door in with his boot. Splintering wood was still falling when he saw Reanna. Naked, skin red, sopping wet on the floor. Even in his haste to get to her, he could see some of her skin starting to blister.

  “Ree.” His hands went onto her gently. She twitched, but didn’t awaken.

  “Bloody fucker.”

  Forcing the staggering rage out of his hands, Killian searched the room, seeing the rag she must have been wearing in a tattered heap. He grabbed a towel, setting it over Reanna’s body. Snatching another one, he draped it over his arms and slid his hands under her, lifting her as he tried to cover her skin.

  Within seconds, he was down the stairs, rage turning him cold with every step.

  In the foyer, Killian handed her inert body softly over to Devin, who managed to keep a pistol trained on Nettle until Killian could turn around to face him.

  “Take Ree out to the carriage and hitch the horses up.” Killian’s voice had gone detached, emotionless as he stared at Nettle. “She cannot ride on horseback to London.”

  Devin raised an eyebrow at his friend.

  “Now, Devin. I will join you in a moment.”

  Without word, Devin backed out of the open front door to carry Reanna to the carriage.

  Minutes later, Killian walked into the stables.

  “It is taken care of?” Devin finished tightening the leather straps on the left horse.

  “It is.”

  Devin stood tall. “Horses are ready. I set her on the back bench.”

  Killian jumped into the coach, drawing Reanna’s limp form into his arms and spreading the towel along her body for maximum coverage. “Get us to home quickly. No heed to ruts or bumps. I will shield her.”

  With a quick nod, Devin closed the carriage door and vaulted up to the driver’s perch, and set the horses to London.

  { Chapter 25 }

  Reanna cracked her eyes, lucid for the first time since she had been dunked into the scalding water. She had vague snippets of memories. Killian holding her. Talking in her ear. Something gooey being spread on her body. Broth going down her throat. A soft bed—a real bed under her.

  And now her head was being tugged at.

  Her skin throbbed in pain, and she knew exactly what that was from. Scalding water. But what was that tugging?

  She opened her eyes further.

  Turning her head on the pillow, she was greeted with Killian, comb in hand, working through the matted nest that was her tangled hair. A smile immediately touched her lips at the sight of Killian’s big hands holding her delicate tortoise shell comb, picking apart the tiniest snarl.

  “Awake?” His eyes didn’t veer from the knot of dark hair he had up to his nose, picking it apart single strand by single strand in the low light of the lamp by the bed.

  She nodded.

  “Awake and forming real thoughts?”

  Her smile widened. “Yes. You found me. I thought…”

  Her words fell into thick silence. At that, his brown eyes left the tangled hair, staring into hers. “You thought what?”

  She closed her eyes, shaking her head at the panicked terror she had felt, the memory of it still so raw in her chest, it was hard to quell it. Hard to grasp she wasn’t still being held by Nettle. “I thought you left me. I heard you. I saw you riding fro
m his house.”

  “So you did break the window, didn’t you? I came back, thanks to Devin. I had him waiting outside of the inn, and he saw Nettle taking you. He did not know it was you, at the time, and blast that, for what Nettle did to you. Are you in much pain now?”

  “I will survive it. I stink, though.”

  Killian laughed. “Yes, you do. The doctor said this was the best concoction for the burns. He did not make apologies for the smell, though. But your skin is looking less red, and the blisters seem to be shrinking. So hopefully you will only stink for another day or so.” He picked up a matted lock of her dark hair and started picking it apart. “One does get used to the smell. But I will be happy when you can get in a bath.”

  She chuckled. “Charming, you are.” She watched him carefully extracting the lowest knot from the strand of hair. “You could have cut it. It would have been easier.”

  “I was not about to do that. As long as I can be looking at you, I have all the time in the world.”

  “Now that really is charming.” She shifted her hand to rest on his thigh. The movement stretched her tight skin, but she didn’t care. She needed to touch him, even if it was with just her five fingers. “Did Gertie make it to the Brook Street house?”

  “Gertie? Who is Gertie? Your secretary said something about an older woman arriving there when he stopped by earlier, but I did not think to ask about it. I wanted to get back in here. Was that who he was talking about?”

  Reanna breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. She made it. I was worried. She was with me in the asylum. She took care of me. She helped me escape. And then we split—I did not want her to get caught with me.”

  “You sent a woman from an insane asylum to be around the children? Why was she in the asylum?”

  “Unfortunate choices by her son.” Reanna recognized the concern in Killian’s voice. “You forget I was in there, as well. Do not judge her by where she was forced to live. She is the kindest soul, but she sees ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?” Killian’s hands stopped as he looked up at Reanna, eyebrow arched.

  “Ghosts, spirits. She sees them. But they do no harm.”

  “You sent a crazy lady to the children?”

  “Killian, she is far from crazy, and I take offense that you think that. Just because we cannot see spirits, does not mean they are not real.”

  “Do you believe in her spirits now, as well?”

  Reanna’s eyes flew upward, shaking her head. “It does not matter what I believe—it only matters what she believes she sees. And what Gertie sees does not affect her functioning or her interaction with reality. She just truly sees more people in a room than we do.”

  “But with the children? Are you sure that is wise?”

  “She would never hurt or scare them. She knows how and when to be silent about what she sees. Especially after what her own son did to her. She has all this love to share, so I sent her to the children. They will adore her, and she will adore them.”

  Killian nodded. “All right, I trust your judgment. The children have been beyond crazy in missing you, as well. Aggie has been at the Brook Street house almost daily, trying to keep their minds off of worry and making sure all stayed in order.”

  “Will tomorrow be too soon to see them?” Reanna tried a beguiling smile, but knew by her cracking lips that it was probably quite hideous.

  “Good try.” He chuckled. “When you are in no danger of children bursting blisters when jumping on you, then I will let the little rascals near you. And not until then, no matter how big your eyes get at me.”

  She nodded with a frown. He was right, but she didn’t need to like it. “Killian, you need to know something. I did not go with him. My father. I did not meet with him. I could not do that to you. It was Miss Collier—my god—Miss Collier—” She gripped his arm. “Killian, you need to get her away from the children. Right now, Killian, you have to—”

  “Stop—I know. I saw it all. And Miss Collier is long gone. I was at the park across the street and saw exactly what happened to you, and then I was promptly knocked out.”

  “You what? No.” Her hand went to his hair, searching for a lump or a cut. “Are you all right?”

  He grabbed her probing fingers, setting her hand back onto his lap. “It was a month ago, and it only knocked me out for a moment. But in that moment, I lost you.”

  Reanna watched as his face flickered into darkness. A darkness that unsettled her deep in her gut.

  “Killian, what you said at that inn.”

  His eyes flew wide. “You heard that?”

  “I was above you. I could hear everything through the floorboards.”

  “Then you heard the deal I made with your father?”

  She shook her head. “Deal, what deal? I heard you say you did not want me.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “That I was a burden.”

  “God, Ree, tell me you didn't believe it. That I would never...”

  Her eyes dropped. “I did. You said it, and then...then...I guess I gave up. It had been so long since I had seen you. My mind, it wandered in the asylum. Reexamined. Questioned everything. Even things I thought were in the past. Everything just eroded. And then you said those words. I did not want to believe it, but it was my worst fear, and there it was—from your mouth to my ears. The very thing I dreaded more than death."

  "The words were false, Ree. You cannot believe I would betray you so.”

  “I know. I knew it when I heard you at Nettle’s.” She looked up at him. “I think…”

  “You are not a burden, Ree. You are my wife and the farthest thing from a burden. Never should you think that.” His hand went under her chin. “You are my life. My everything. What you heard was me trying to maintain some sort of desperate upper-hand with your father. I needed to try every possible angle against him. Those words were false, and I had to force myself to utter such atrocities. Of all things, do not dare question the fact that I would lie to the devil and God above to get you back.”

  She sat up, panicked as his earlier words sunk in. “Killian—deal—what deal did you make with my father? Tell me this instant what you did.”

  Killian’s eyes trailed upward to the grey canopy above as a sigh went deep into his chest. He looked at her. “I traded almost everything to get you back. Everything that is not entailed or in trust. The shipping companies. They are his.”

  “What? No.”

  “Lie back down, Reanna. It is done. I am at peace with it. You are here, and that is the most important thing.”

  “But no, Killian, this is outrageous—unacceptable—he does not get anything from you after what he did to me.”

  “Please, Ree. No. I am fine with it. I can rebuild what I need to. You need not worry on that. Please, just lie down. You need to rest. To heal.”

  “Killian, you cannot let him do this—”

  “It is done.” He cut her off, his voice raw. He leaned in, his fingers gentle on her temples, his breath caressing her face. “You…you are all that matters to me. I love you, Ree, and I would have traded the world for you. I would have traded heaven and hell, my life, my soul for you. So do not question what I did. It was my decision to make, and I stand by it.”

  Her breath hard in her chest, Reanna nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

  He searched her face, his eyes landing on hers. “You gave me the life I never even considered, never knew existed, but always needed. I will never take that gift lightly, Ree. From here, until we die, old and happy, and surrounded by bundles of grandbabies. You are my greatest treasure. There is nothing that means more to me.”

  Tears slipped down, the salt burning trails in her raw cheeks.

  But the pain only made it real. She was here.

  Home. Home with her husband. Her love.

  It was real.

  { Chapter 26 }

  A week later, Reanna’s skin had healed enough from the stinky salve doctor Leiars insisted get slathered on every four hours that she finally got to
take a bath. Miss Melby helped her dress in a serviceable slate blue muslin dress, perfect for getting dirty with the children.

  After concurring with the doctor, Killian had given approval for a short visit with the children later in the day. But Reanna had some other business to attend to before they went to the Brook Street house.

  She walked into the study, finding Killian behind his desk.

  He looked up as her footsteps thudded on the new Persian carpet she had chosen months ago. “You, my wife, are the most beautiful sight I could ever ask for in the morning. Please tell me you are going to pull me away from this most tedious tally of numbers. I am available for whatever whim you have in mind.”

  Reanna laughed and moved to stand in front of the desk. “Excellent. I do have something in mind.”

  “Whatever you wish. With high hopes, of course, that your whim either includes locking the study door, or heading back up the stairs to my bed. Your smell was just enough to deter me for days, but now my hands are already itching to be on you.”

  Reanna smiled, putting her palms on the desk and leaning in. “We will get to that, soon, my husband. I promise. But first, where do you think my father is?”

  Killian’s face lost all playfulness. “Why?”

  “He must be in London after the deal you made with him, after all he gained.”

  “Ree, do not think what I fear you are,” Killian said, head shaking.

  “Where, Killian? I will find him one way or another. He has what he wants, and he would not be so stupid as to harm me again. Not now.”

  “Ree, no.”

  “Yes. I am taking a carriage and going to find him. I was hoping you would come with me, but if you cannot, I understand. I will be home after I find him.”

  “No. Dammit, Ree. No.” His hand slammed onto the desk.

  Reanna jumped, but she held her feet in the same spot.

  “What he did to you, Ree. What he set in motion. No. Forbidden.” Killian stood, glaring down at her. “He does not deserve to speak to you ever again, Ree. Do not think to do this.”

  “Killian, I know. I know because I feel the exact way you do about him. But I need to see him. The last time I saw him, he was punching me.”