Mark of The Marquess (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  She was hoping it would, but another part of her hoped Valiant had not, in fact, accepted an invitation to a party.

  When they approached the rather large residence, James turned her toward him. “Do you have any misgivings about joining Society? If you do, we can return home. We’ll leave tonight if you wish.”

  She wanted to ask him if he were running for her sake or his own, but she knew his words were from the heart. He would leave if she wished it.

  How had she fought loving him for so long?

  Or perhaps, she hadn’t. Perhaps, it had simply taken a moment of contentment for her to realize it.

  She wanted nothing more than to be with this man beside her. “I’ll manage to woo Society.”

  His gaze became hooded with suspicion. “Who said anything about wooing them? Just get them to like you and then cease all your efforts.”

  She laughed. “Have no fear, my lord. I am entirely yours.”

  Her words twisted his face into something that reflected his agony. He leaned forward, cradled the back of her neck and rested his forehead against hers. His eyes remained closed, and he said not one word.

  Kim closed her eyes as well, deciding to indulge in the closeness.

  They arrived at Everly and Asher’s home before she was ready. And all Kim’s hopes for an intimate dinner were dashed away quickly.

  “We’re to go to a ball,” Everly said as she went through Kim’s wardrobe. “Everyone will be there. It is the perfect opportunity to introduce you to Society.”

  While James had said she was ready, she was in fact not. But she’d not tell her friends as much. Though she’d not had the best experience away at school, she had learned much. She would call upon all her lessons now as she entered the world as a marchioness.

  It was to be the first night she truly felt like one. She’d be in London, surrounded by the best that England had to offer. It was a night that should have made her both anxious and glad, but she couldn’t be without James at her side as her husband.

  James had left after Everly pulled her into her rooms, promising to see her later that night if not the early morning, which was when most gatherings ended.

  Though they’d be apart, she hoped his evening would turn out just as fruitful.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 2

  “My master is not receiving guests, my lord.” The butler, like most servants upon seeing James, kept his expression neutral but could not hide his discomfort.

  James stood in the door with a shoulder lifted, blocking those who passed on the sidewalk from his view. He’d never felt so exposed in all his life. He might as well have been naked for all the eyes that could see him.

  He was seconds away from shouting or becoming irate in public. “He’ll see me today.”

  The butler scrambled back as James moved into the foyer.

  “Sir!” the butler shouted. “Please, Lord Ganden—”

  “I am the Marquess of Denhallow,” James said and turned to the man.

  The butler’s eyes flickered and then he straightened. “Yes, my lord.” There seemed to be something close to relief in the man’s eyes before he fled.

  It was only then that James noticed the utter destruction of the house.

  The house looked as though a herd of wild horses had run through, knocking everything to the floor, tearing down the wallpaper, chipping the marble columns, and even managing to crack the wooden floor. He glanced into the sitting room, which wasn’t any better than the foyer. Furniture was tipped over. Stuffing rested on the ground around the couch like a beast had torn into the cushion with its bare teeth.

  A reasonable person would have looked at this destruction and fled, but somehow, it calmed James. What he saw before him was nothing more than a portrait of what he felt within. Anger. Shame. Disgust.

  James thought he’d been scarred the worst by the captivity but apparently not.

  Ganden had been missing for a year before James and Anthony found him and the other men. His time with Mr. Goody had been short compared to the others.

  He returned his attention to the foyer and up to the top of the staircase to find Ganden starting there. James hadn’t even heard him come into the room. For a such a large man, he’d moved as silently as a moth. Light came in from the crack in the torn curtains behind the residence’s master, making him nothing more than a powerful silhouette. His visage could not be seen, but James did notice that his hands seemed relaxed. They dangled at his sides.

  “Have you found her?” Ganden asked.

  James narrowed his eyes as he immediately thought of Kim. But then he shook that thought away. Ganden didn’t know how he’d come to marry Kim and James would further be surprised if Ganden had managed to gain knowledge of the marriage at all. His home appeared as though he’d devoted himself to its demolition, leaving little time to read marriage announcements in papers.

  “Did I find who?” James asked.

  “Her.” Ganden’s voice had always sounded as though he dined on nails for breakfast. Now, there was a hint of shards of glass as well. James remembered the manacle that had been about Ganden’s neck when he’d found him. “Harlot.”

  Harlot.

  It was not a name he’d heard in years, though he was sure that hadn’t actually been the name of the maid who’d overseen them when Mr. Goody wasn’t there.

  He still recalled the tears in her eyes as she’d tried to stitch him back together that first time, before he and Anthony had gotten into a fight that had required another round of stitches.

  He recalled the tears in Harlot’s golden eyes as she’d tried to repair him, continuing to whisper she was sorry, as though she’d been the one to take the knife to his face when they both knew it had been Mr. Goody. Harlot had been as much a victim as them, he was sure. Which was why when he’d rescued Ganden and the others, he’d let her go, let her run long before he’d unchained Ganden, who’d seemed ready to hunt her down.

  He was surprised that in two years, the man’s intentions had not changed.

  The earl’s fist tightened as he started down the stairs. “I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t find her. I can’t figure out her real name!” His voice grew with rage at the end.

  James prepared himself for violence.

  Finally, when Ganden was close, James could make out of his face, or the portions of it that weren’t covered by long wavy dark locks.

  Feral green eyes glared at James. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know,” James said.

  “Then you’re of no use to me. Get out.” Ganden turned to leave.

  James was more than ready to leave, but then he thought about Kim and sighed. “I believe… it would be good if we all came together, the five of us. The… Lost Lords as England has dubbed us.”

  “Did you not hear me?” Ganden turned back to him. “I said get out!” He reached toward a short pillar that had been poised by the stairs. It had clearly once held something, but whatever that had been was gone now, broken into a thousand porcelain pieces on the floor.

  Ganden clenched the air over the pillar and his lips thinned. Then, he stuck out a foot and kicked the pillar down. It made a loud boom as it hit the floor. The sound was… pleasant.

  Oh, yes. This home does represent my mind in every way.

  He imagined the relief Ganden felt with every blow he took to his home. “Mind if I have a go?”

  Ganden’s dark head turned to James. “What?”

  James removed his jacket and looked around the room. One of the stair balusters had come out. It rested on the floor. Walking over to it, James lifted the dark baluster up and felt the weight of his new weapon in his hand. The heavy wood bit into his flesh when he gave it a good squeeze.

  He turned to a mirror on the wall that had managed to escape Ganden’s destructive path. Pulling back the baluster, he swung with all his might and shattered the glass. The sound was like thunder then fresh spring rain. It flittered as it fell to the floor, sending light ev
erywhere through the foyer before finally finding rest on the floor underneath it.

  Only a kiss from Kim felt better than that. He nearly felt reborn by that action. Hefting the baluster in his grip again, he turned to find Ganden leaning against the staircase, staring at him.

  His expression was relaxed. “That was my mother’s mirror.”

  “Oh.” James looked at it and then Ganden again. “I’m sorry.”

  Ganden grinned and then he chuckled. “Don’t worry. She’s still alive and has likely bought an entire wardrobe full since then.”

  “Where is your family?” James knew Ganden had a brother as well, one who cared deeply for him.

  Ganden’s smile fled. “I sent them away. They now rent rooms on the other side of Mayfair.”

  James nodded. “I sent my loved ones away as well,” he said, thinking about Lore and Valiant. “I’ve married since.”

  “How is that?” Ganden asked, seeming to be actually curious.

  “I… have never known more happiness than I do now. I love her.” He’d not been this honest with another man in a long time, including himself. It felt good to confess his feelings aloud.

  Genden lifted a brow and crossed his arms. “Does she return the sentiment?”

  “I’m not sure,” James said. “But she cares for me. Deeply so.” His heart raced with the thought of Kim. He suddenly wondered why he wasn’t with her at the very moment, but then he remembered their plan. She was entering Society.

  And he was hiding from it.

  “Then you’re a blessed man,” Ganden said in a bland tone that revealed none of his feelings on the subject. “Because I can’t imagine a woman caring for that face.”

  “Harlot cared for my face,” James said without a second thought. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taunted anyone.

  Ganden lunged for James, but James was more oriented and moved out of his path and laughed when Ganden slipped on the glass and ran into the wall.

  “She wept over it, caressed me while whispered sweet nothings in my ear,” James continued. He didn’t even know how he’d been sure that dangling the Harlot before Ganden would turn him into an outright bull, but it had worked.

  Ganden released a shout that mirrored many James had made in the last two years. “When I find her, she is mine!”

  James lifted his hand. “I would never think of taking her from you. Besides, I’m quite content with my wife and have no plans of straying.” Not that he’d had the pleasure of Kim’s body yet.

  Ganden settled and then closed his eyes. “She whispered... things to you? Perhaps, she might have told you something that would help me find her.”

  James arched a brow. “And what shall you do once you have her?”

  “Make her pay.” Ganden’s nostrils flared with rage.

  James thought it not the best time to point out the fact that the maid, whoever she was, had likely been a victim just as they’d been. And James supposed it possible that Ganden had reason to seek revenge against Harlot. Perhaps she’d done something to him, but what, James couldn’t guess.

  And he didn’t much care to do so.

  “We should find the others,” James said. “Perhaps, they know more about Harlot. Have any of them called on you?”

  Ganden frowned. “No.”

  “Have you called on any of them?” James asked.

  Ganden shook his head. “We’ve all been… distracted by one thing or another.”

  “Yet, you know where they are?” James asked.

  “I’ve had servants on them,” Ganden said. “Just in case she sought one of them out.”

  James saw little point in pretending to not know who ‘her’ was. Ganden was clearly obsessed with his plans for revenge. Or perhaps, just the woman herself.

  Ganden turned and marched back up the stairs. “Make yourself comfortable where you can. We’ll head out once I’m ready.”

  James glanced around and then decided that where he stood was likely the most comfortable place in the house.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 3

  More than anything, Kim’s greatest wish had been to know more about the man she’d wed.

  Now, she took it back.

  One story after another poured from the mouths of those who seemed to have an endless memory of her husband’s antics, and the more she heard, the more she wondered just who she’d married.

  “I’m sure you’re a happy woman,” Lady Preshea said, her deep honey eyes aglow. The beautiful woman was a dear friend of Everly’s, though the two seemed nothing alike. For one, Lady Preshea had no shame. She leaned forward and whispered, “Why care about a face when he has such great appeal elsewhere on his body?”

  Kim blanched. Was there a woman present who hadn’t slept with her husband?

  “Preshea.” Everly’s eyes widened with astonishment. “You did not just admit to Lady Denhallow that you’ve had her husband.”

  Lady Preshea snapped into an upright position and pressed her hand to her chest. “Everly, I have not touched Denhallow. He showed his rather… masculine prize to a party I hosted a few years ago.”

  Sadly, the first emotion that moved through Kim was not embarrassment but rage. An entire party had seen Kim’s husband nude, while she’d yet to see him without a shirt?

  Everly ducked away as if embarrassed for Kim. “Surely, there weren’t many women there. I’ve never heard this story.” She looked at Kim reassuringly.

  “Oh, there were only a few of us.” Preshea smirked. “We were quite deep in our cups. I’m sure the marquess hardly remembers the incident, much less the others at the party.”

  Yet Lady Preshea did remember, Kim noted.

  “I’ve not had Lord Denhallow.” Lady Preshea sighed rather longingly. “You know I prefer commitments and how Denhallow prefers fair hair.” She touched her dark curls as though Denhallow’s distaste stung.

  Never mind the complete pain Kim was feeling.

  James didn’t like dark-haired women? Was that the reason he’d refrained from touching her? That didn’t make sense. She was sure he’d had dark-haired women before. Though, as Preshea seemed to claim, he’d never committed himself to any dark-haired woman before.

  “Would Arrah Page be fair-haired?” Kim couldn’t help but ask.

  “Very,” Preshea said. “So fair she’s nearly a ghost.”

  “I’ll just take Lady Denhallow to meet other guests now,” Everly said as she pushed Kim along. “Good evening, Preshea.” Once they were out of the other woman’s range of hearing, Everly said, “Don’t mind a word she said. I’ve heard that her beau recently left her. They’d been together for years. Preshea is not taking the rejection easy.”

  Kim immediately felt bad for Lady Preshea, though she’d rather had not heard any of her stories. Or stories from anyone else at the party either. Everyone wished to prove that they knew James, yet none of them could tell her anything good about him.

  She recalled James telling her that he’d not been a very good man before. Now, she knew he’d not lied.

  Her husband had made enemies and friends rather easily. He seemed to have held the power to either draw admiration or deep loathing from whomever he chose. He’d started terrible rumors. He’d started wars between families. He’d helped few. He’d made one elderly woman nearly laugh to death. Literally. The woman had been forced to rest in bed for quite some time after that.

  He’d been scandalous and shameless. James had not only frequented brothels, but he’d frequented the beds of ladies as well. And worse, he’d been shallow.

  He’d made women and men cry with great anguish. If one’s nose was too broad, James made sure the gentleman would never forget it. If a lady’s teeth didn’t sit just so, she’d live to rue the day she ever smiled in his direction.

  By the end of the first hour, Kim wondered how she’d manage to pass James’ high standards.

  Did he feel any shame or remorse for his previously wild behavior? Should Kim make him apologize for who
he’d been before they’d wed?

  Perhaps, to those he’d hurt, but to apologize to her didn’t seem fair.

  Kim forced a smile and told herself what she’d been saying through the entire night. These people may have known James, but none of them knew him. She was sure of it. Somehow, Kim had gotten past the walls, games, and silly antics that he seemed to build around himself. He’d let her in. He’d told her things she was sure he’d told no one else.

  Just as she’d done with him.

  The thought of it warmed her until she could almost feel the binding that held them together even though he was likely nowhere near her.

  She wished he was near, so she could throttle him and then kiss it and make it better. She was angry with the man he’d once been but deeply in love with who he currently was, a man who made her feel an ever-mounting hill of emotions that would soon tumble out of her lips.

  And then what would happen? How would he perceive their marriage then? She wanted a true marriage, for, in her heart, he was a true husband. Even if he was keeping his body from her.

  She made the first excuse she could to leave her present company—Lord and Lady Reddington, a lovely couple who had an untold army of children they were very proud of—before skirting down a hall and turning down another that was blessedly empty.

  She’d barely taken a breath before she felt a hand take hers and yank her into a room.

  She gasped when her eyes adjusted to the new lower light. “James!” she managed to get out before he took possession of her mouth.

  Then she moaned, and her heart raced as James’ hard body pressed into hers. Even through the layers of skirts, she felt it, his ‘masculine prize’ as Lady Preshea had described it.

  She wanted to touch it, but he grabbed her hands, stretched them up over her head, and held her prisoner to the mounting desire and lust.

  He bit and sucked. Their tongues mated. Kim could barely breathe. Her body wilted against his. Somewhere in her outwardly raging thoughts, she couldn’t help but noticed how strong his breath was of alcohol. And then she realized he was here.