A Marquess' Forbidden Desire (Steamy Historical Regency)

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A Marquess' Forbidden Desire (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 6

by Lucinda Nelson


  Marianne smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “Come now. You can save your shock for the morning. I could do with some sleep. I wouldn’t want to be tired for the fair tomorrow.”

  She blanched. “We’re coming back?”

  Marianne grinned until her cheeks hurt. “Of course, my dear. Of course.”

  Chapter 7

  Lord Alexander Anthony Redmond, Marquess of Riversdale

  They woke the next morning feeling unimaginably sore. “We drank too much wine,” Alexander grumbled as he sat up and put his hand against his forehead. It took him a moment to realize that they were in the drawing room. They hadn’t even made it to bed.

  With a shake of his head, he tossed a pillow at Julius to wake him. He was sprawled half on, half off the chaise lounge. He flailed his hand out and moaned. “Leave me be.”

  “Absolutely not. I will not be wasting today.”

  “The fair won’t start for several hours, Alexander.”

  “But I would like to purchase a new outfit.”

  “You have plenty,” he mumbled.

  “Not that are black.”

  “Why does it need to be black?” He rolled over as he said this, so that Alexander could see his face, but he looked fiercely sullen.

  This was a question Alexander wasn’t sure he wanted to answer. He didn’t want Julius to tease him anymore than he already had. “No particular reason.”

  “For this girl,” Julius said, with a slow, tired smirk. “Does she only like black clothes? What a queer girl.”

  Alexander frowned. “No, it’s not that.”

  “Something even stranger, perhaps?”

  Alexander didn’t answer, which gave Julius cause to push. At last, he sat up and looked at him. “Come now, I can tell when you are hiding something. There’s no use postponing the inevitable. You always give in eventually.”

  He was right. Whenever Julius set his mind on knowing something he always won.

  Alexander pursed his lips, then expelled a breath. “We didn’t share names,” he said, reluctantly. “So we devised names for each other.”

  “And she called you…?

  Again, he paused.

  “Alexander,” he pressed.

  “Very well!” He snapped. “The Black Knight.”

  “What was that?”

  “The Black Knight, damn you!”

  Julius laughed so hard he fell off the seat and even that didn’t stop him. He pulled himself to his feet, red in the face with amusement and shaking his head. “You are quite odd, Alexander, quite odd indeed.”

  “That’s enough of that,” he said, standing. “Let’s go.”

  “But you have not told me what you call her.”

  His cheeks went pink. So much blushing in these past few days. Best to get them all out before he saw his father in just a few days, and took up his position as the Marquess once and for all. “The Fairy Queen,” he answered, because what was the use in fighting?

  They walked to the town together to purchase some clothes and Julius would not stop teasing him, the entire way. By the time they arrived, Alexander was about ready to bite his head off.

  But something held him back. As much as Julius irritated him, nothing could ruin his mood entirely today. As he looked through the clothes for a suitable, black outfit, he felt Julius watching him.

  “You are quite smitten by this girl, aren’t you?”

  “Smitten is a strong word,” Alexander replied, dismissively.

  “I think it’s perfectly appropriate. Perhaps you will sow your wild oats after all.”

  “There will be none of that.”

  Julius pushed in front of Alexander and made him look him in the eye. “Then what exactly do you mean to get out of this? She’s a country girl. Not exactly marriage material for a Marquess.”

  This annoyed him. “I do not mean to marry her either.” He pushed past Julius to look at another suit.

  “Then what do you mean to do?”

  “I can befriend a woman, can’t I?”

  “Who told you such an outright lie? Certainly not me.”

  Alexander looked back over his shoulder at Julius. “Men and women can be friends.”

  “Not when one feels for the other as you feel for her.”

  “You are being absurd.”

  “Is this something to do with what that witchy woman said? You never did tell me.”

  “Because that was equally absurd! And has nothing to do with the girl I met.”

  His face brightened. He knew all of Alexander’s expressions. And he knew when he was hiding something, which meant he was onto something. And he hunted it down like a bloodhound. Relentlessly. “But she did mention a girl.”

  Alexander tipped his head back against his shoulders and let out a long sigh of defeat. “She told me that I would meet my true love last night,” he said, at last. “Which is absolute drivel, as far as I’m concerned. Nothing could compel me to marry a country girl. What would my father say?”

  “But she said nothing of marriage, Alexander. Perhaps this girl is truly the love of your life, and you are meant to savor every moment with her. Steal your moments of true passion before you resign yourself to a dull, sullen woman of your father’s choice. What a grand opportunity.”

  “That is an irrelevant prospect. Because it was all lies. All those supposed psychics are liars, hoping to feed off people’s vulnerability and hopes. But I will not fall victim to it.”

  “Then the girl is just a coincidence?”

  Alexander nodded firmly. “Exactly so.”

  Julius rolled his eyes but dropped the matter. They soon found appropriate outfits and had some lunch together. Julius spoke of the girl he’d been pursuing and how he’d like to have another shot at her. Typically, Alexander would have discouraged him. But not this time. Because if Julius was with the Fairy Queen’s friend… then Alexander could be alone with her.

  Chapter 8

  Lady Marianne Purcell, Daughter of Baron Westlake

  “I did not feel nervous last night,” Marianne admitted. She was wringing her hands and biting her lip. They were standing at the edge of the fair. Waiting.

  “It is normal to be nervous,” Becky answered.

  “Is it? Oh, I feel terribly nervous. Perhaps more nervous than I’ve ever been before.”

  “What worries you so?”

  “I’m not sure. Nothing, I suppose? Only, what if he realizes that I’m not his usual sort of girl? What if I slip up and say the wrong thing?”

  Becky was looking at her with a worried expression. Marianne knew what she was thinking and it worried her too. If she didn’t have the hope of a future with this man and was truly just enjoying her moments of freedom, as she’d professed, then why did she care what this gentleman thought of her?

  “My Lady,” Becky began, uneasily. “I hope you are not-”

  Before she could go on, Marianne saw him.

  She knew him the instant she laid eyes on him. He was wearing another black outfit, with the same mask he’d worn the night before. He stole her attention so entirely that she didn’t notice what his companion was wearing until they were right in front of her.

  She blinked at his friend… and took in the sight of him.

  All in white.

  She put her hand up to her lips to disguise the twitching of a smile. “My…” She said. “Don’t you look-”

  “Absurd,” Becky concluded.

  “Handoms I was going to say handsome.” She smiled on Becky’s behalf, who was looking at the Black Knight’s friend with open disdain. It wasn’t like her to behave in such a way. She’d always been demure and servile. But perhaps that was only what Marianne saw of her. Perhaps she too was finding some liberation on this trip.

  That pleased Marianne more than she could express. She had often felt that her friendship with Becky was hindered by their differing ranks. But for the first time, she didn’t feel that obstruction between them.

  They were truly just two friends
.

  “You do not like my outfit?” The gentleman said with a quirked brow, entirely unfazed. “As we are not sharing our names, I thought that you might call me the White Knight.”

  “You’re right,” Marianne said, with a growing smile. “He is rather funny.”

  The Black Knight was smiling at her. “He’s insufferable,” his mouth said, but his eyes were saying something different. He liked her dress. She could see it in the way his eyes dropped. It made her skin turn rouge with pleasure. “You look..”

  It was a dress she’d spent hours picking out. Teal and made from the softest material imaginable. “You like it?” She asked, with a coy smile and a light swish of her skirts from side to side.

  “I like it very much.” His voice sounded raspy, which made her even pinker.

  For a moment, they just stared at each other. As if everything else had fallen away.

  Until his friend cleared his throat. “I think that is our cue to leave.” The gentleman put his arm out towards Becky and looked at her pointedly.

  Becky took a step closer to Marianne’s side and scowled down at his extended arm.

  “Come now,” he said, with an impish and charming smile. “I won’t chase you if you don’t run away. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds like a poor compromise,” she mumbled in answer.

  “I am a gentleman at heart. I promise you. Just give me the chance to prove it. Unless you’d rather continue to bear witness to the sickly sweet looks between these two…?”

  That seemed to convince her. After a moment more of hesitation, she nodded and took his arm – albeit reluctantly. “There now,” he said. “That wasn’t so terrible was it?”

  “Yet,” Becky grumbled, sounding like a prisoner of war being taken for torture.

  Again, Marianne had to disguise her laugh. The pair of them walked away, still bickering audibly.

  “Well,” the Black Knight said. “I hope that doesn’t end in disaster.”

  Marianne started walking and he fell into step beside her. It was a slow walk, without a particular destination in mind. “I think they are more alike than they realize.”

  “How so?” He asked.

  Marianne tilted her head thoughtfully. She was walking with her hands linked behind her. “Well, I do not know your friend. But from what I have heard of him, he is very stubborn. If that is true, he has met his match in Becky-” She slapped a hand over her mouth. She had said her name. She had said her name.

  The Black Knight smiled at her sympathetically. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I will pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  She sighed gratefully. “She would not be happy if she knew I’d given her away.”

  “There must be a thousand Beckys in England, so there is nothing to fear. Even if I meant to hunt you down, I don’t think I’d be able to find you.”

  “Do you think that is what worries me?” Marianne wondered. “That you will hunt me down?”

  He looked as if he hadn’t truly considered this before. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I don’t know why you disguise your identity, truly, and I have not asked because I would not like to explain why I have disguised mine.”

  “I thought you wanted a few nights of freedom from your true self, as I did?”

  “Or the opportunity to be my true self, for the first time.” He was smiling, but there was a sadness in it that made her take hold of his hand thoughtlessly. He looked down at their twined fingers, then back at her eyes.

  She felt a shiver go through her.

  “I feel the same way,” she said. “Which is why I cannot tell you who I am without shattering this beautiful illusion.”

  “Then let us leave it be.” He squeezed her hand. “I, for one, do not need to know. As far as I’m concerned, this is the truth. Right here.”

  He held up their joined hands.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” She was left almost breathless by this feeling of being understood. Their shoulders brushed as they walked. They went from stall to stall, played games and bought a few more trinkets. She lay her head on his shoulder as they walked.

  They didn’t talk about themselves and the real world. They didn’t need to. They understood one another without needing to know menial details. The connection they had went deeper than all that.

  “I adore that,” she remarked when they stopped at a little jewelry stall. There was this old, antique looking silver chain. It had a star pendant on it, with several points. It was so simple. No jewels. Just metal twisted into something beautiful.

  She wanted to get it, but she hadn’t wanted to risk blowing her cover today. Not with him there. Nothing would be worse than that, so she’d only taken a few coins out with her, which she’d already spent.

  But it was so perfect.

  She took her hand away from it and did her utmost to keep her disappointment from showing.

  “Shall we go to the next stall?” She suggested, but the Black Knight wasn’t looking at her. He was looking down at the pendant.

  “I think I’d like to see this on you. May I?” He said to the merchant, who was happy to oblige.

  The Black Knight picked up the pendant as if it was made of diamonds. As if it were priceless. He held it up towards her and with one gentle hand he pushed her hair back over her shoulder, revealing her slender neck.

  She held the hair up for him and felt a tight feeling dive through her belly when he put his arms around her so that he could pull the necklace around her neck.

  He was so close that she could feel the warmth of his chest against her back.

  He fastened the necklace and took a step back to look at her. At first, he didn’t say anything and neither did she. He looked at her for such a long time that she had to look away, feeling suddenly shy.

  Slowly, he started to smile.

  Without speaking a word, he paid the man for the necklace.

  “You don’t have to-” She started to say, but he cut her off with a gesture of his hand.

  “Now that I’ve seen that on you, I can’t have you take it off.”

  Marianne touched the pendant with her fingertips and simply gazed at him.

  “The music’s starting,” he said. And, taking her by the hand, he led her to the dance.

  Chapter 9

  Lord Alexander Anthony Redmond, Marquess of Riversdale

  The dancing was different that night. On the first night of the fair the townsfolk had been celebrating. They’d been bursting with excitement and it had shown in the way they’d danced. Tonight, they were less frantic. Their joy had mellowed out into a soft contentment and peacefulness. There was rapturous dancing, of course, but there were also slower moments.

  It was in those moments that everything fell away but the moon, the stars and the Fairy Queen in his arms. They danced closer than the night before. And there were moments when they were so close that he worried what people might think. Would they talk?

  But when he looked around nervously, no one was looking at them. They didn’t care about anyone but the people they were dancing with. They weren’t looking for gossip or a story to take home to their friends.

  That was an experience that Alexander didn’t understand. All the people in his life cared about nothing but reputation, a good scandal and feeling better than everyone else. Here, everyone was equal. And happy because of it.

  “This is not what I’m used to,” he murmured as they swayed together like candlelight in a steady breeze. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and one his hands held her waist, the other held hers against his shoulder.

  “Hmm?” She’d been quiet for such a long time, and she spoke now as if coming out of a dream. She looked up at him. There was a dazed, happy look on her face. “Do you not often attend fairs?”

  “No,” he said. “Not really.” The fact that he couldn’t tell her why was like a knot in his stomach. Though they’d agreed to hide the details of their lives from one another, it didn’t feel right.

  The F
airy Queen didn’t press. She lay her cheek on his chest and closed her eyes. “It’s new to me too,” she admitted quietly, with a soft sigh. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

  Hearing that made his pulse jump and his heartbeat pick up the pace. She smiled, seemingly at the sound and moved her fingers down his neck, to his clavicle. She felt along the bones with her fingertips.

 

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