Finally.
Five years and this was a dream fulfilled.
She could die happily, which was ironic, since he would be the one to kill her.
That thought didn’t stop her from wanting him, however. Nothing had. Not his shouting or threatening looks. Not the rage he’d taken out on objects around her or the venom he spewed.
Nothing.
Even with all his toughness, he’d never hurt her physically or said anything that would cut deeply. He knew all her worst secrets and never once had he used them against her.
He had his limits.
He had her love.
His mouth moved at an unhurried pace, coaxing her heart to flutter and her womanhood to pound with want. His lips were gentle in a way she hadn’t thought him capable of. His tongue drew lazy circles around hers. The heat he poured into her came effortlessly.
Slowly, Belle came undone. He lingered where he wished, seeking out every part of her quivering mouth. But the appearance of laziness was nothing more than a show of pure skill.
In seconds, she was ruined.
She pressed closer. The rest of her body felt neglected and hated to be ignored.
She rubbed against him, and he groaned before forcing her closer.
He lifted her, and she clung to him as though he were some great tree.
“Belle?” Dunst called from the other side of the hedge.
Belle broke away in horror. She had barely been married for an hour and already she was unfaithful. She covered her mouth.
Oliver pulled away but kept her up in his arms.
“Put me down,” she whispered.
Oliver stayed rooted.
Dunst's voice sounded closer with his every step.
She panicked. “Ollie, please. I’m married.”
“That didn’t seem to matter a moment ago,” he growled.
Her stomach flipped. She was strangely both frightened and aroused. “I must be faithful to him.”
His eyes widened. “You plan to be faithful?”
“Of course! I’m married,” she hissed.
He seemed confused. “But he’s forcing you to do this.”
“And? I’m still his wife. Marriage should not be taken lightly or forsaken, no matter the circumstances. It is a commitment for life. I wish to try and make this work.”
Instead of setting her down, he simply adjusted his hold as he continued to look at her.
“Oliver,” she warned.
“What if we find out everything we need to from him?” Oliver asked. “What if he is no longer any use to Cassius? What then?”
“He will still be my husband and me his wife.” Could he not understand that?
“So should he try and make you happy, you’d stay with him and only him forever?”
“Have I not already said that?” she asked.
He set her down, and she moved away and straightened her skirts. “I didn’t think such devotion possible for a woman like you.”
The comment hit her squarely in the chest. She didn’t look at him. “You don’t know anything about me.” She flirted easily, but she’d only had one lover in her entire life. Every man before that had been against her will and there had been none for nearly the past year.
She’d been celibate for a long time now.
But she knew the rumors. Men assumed she made herself available to anyone. Some men even claimed to have sampled her. She didn’t care. The legend only made more men want her, which in turn, made it easy for her to discover their secrets.
She turned away when Dunst called again. “I must go.” But as she recalled another matter, she stopped and looked up at him.
Oliver looked angry, but she was used to that, so she ignored it.
She reached up to fix his hair before she spoke. “If something happens to me, you’ll make sure the women see to my boys, won’t you?”
His usual response was to tell her that the orphans were not her boys. They were just boys she’d taken in.
“What could possibly happen to you?”
She held back her scoff. As though he didn’t know what he planned to do. “Just say you’ll do it.”
“Why can’t I see to the boys myself? I know how to handle young men. I raised Nicholas. Or rather, I kept him alive in spite of our father.” He’d protected his youngest brother from the worst his father had dealt out.
Belle tried to make her words as pleasant as possible. “I want the women in charge because my boys need a soft hand. I don’t need you teaching them to hunt and sleep in the dirt. Why are you smiling? It’s exactly what you’d do. Don’t dare try to deny it.”
Oliver grinned. “Boys need to learn to feel safe no matter where they are. You do little by handing them everything.”
“Handing them?” she nearly hissed. “They are children.”
“Many of your boys are men. Fifteen and sixteen-year-olds need to learn to fend for themselves, to conquer their fears and master nature.”
And there they were. Fighting.
Oliver spent far more time outside than anywhere else. Why he had a home, she’d never know.
“I want them inside. I want them in beds made of cotton and not twigs.”
“You ask me to make you a promise and then you insult me.” He tsked. “Not very clever.”
“Promise me,” she urged right before she slipped out of the hedges.
∫ ∫ ∫
0 9
* * *
Oliver followed Belle and saw Dunst grab her. There was little force in his touch, but still, Oliver had to restrain himself from punching the man in the face.
He still tasted Belle on his mouth and could feel her in his blood.
He’d thought she’d wanted it. She’d given in to him easily, yet her look of true dismay was at the forefront of his mind.
She wanted to be faithful to Dunst.
He would have laughed at the words had he not seen the sincerity in her eyes. It baffled him that not only would a sensual creature such as herself be faithful at all but to a man like Dunst. He didn’t deserve her loyalty.
This wedding had been forced.
Yet she didn’t care. She had a finer character than he’d previously assumed. She’d surprised him in a good way, yet her husband still disturbed him.
He’d had his men look into the earl and had been told Dunst rarely invited women to his home. He had one mistress who he’d dismissed before his engagement to Vita, and he’d not visited her since changing his fiancée to Belle.
Perhaps, he was committed to her as well.
But Belle’s commitment brought up another problem.
She hadn’t been asking for a kiss. She’d enjoyed it, but it hadn’t been her request.
So what had she meant?
He’d been moving closer to the couple as he heard Dunst say, “Where were you?”
“I was here in the garden.” Belle never let anyone rile her. She had great patience.
“Well, come, there’s someone I want you to meet.” He looked up and glared at Oliver. He knew who he was. They needed no introduction.
Oliver kept his expression neutral, hiding his distaste in the presence of so many.
“I hope you can manage some civility until the meal is over, my lord,” Dunst said.
Belle’s eyes flared. She opened her mouth… and then closed it before she lowered her gaze.
The submissive behavior was one Oliver had never seen.
It ate at him. “I can manage many things, my lord.” Like making you disappear.
“You don’t frighten me anymore. Van Dero has promised me that no one in his organization will kill me.” Dunst grinned. “Why don’t you go back to the shadows where you belong, assassin?”
“The shadows?” Oliver smiled and made sure it was wolf-like. “Oh, no. The shadows are where men like you reside. As for me…” He stepped closer to the earl. “I like to hunt in the day, to catch a man off guard when he thinks he’s most safe. The darkness has little appeal to me.” He looked up at
the sky and then back at Dunst. “It’s beautiful days like this that I enjoy most.”
Dunst turned red. “I won’t allow you to threaten me.”
“I’ve not threatened you at all, my lord,” Oliver said. “I was simply commenting on what I enjoy doing on days like this. Such beauty deserves a pleasant memory. At least, the memories are pleasant for me.” As he began to bow, Dunst jumped back.
Oliver chuckled. “Good day, Lord Dunst.”
* * *
“I don’t like that man,” Dunst said. “Actually, I don’t care for any of your old friends. You’ll have to get new ones starting today.”
Belle was stunned by that comment. She fought back her anger and chose to persuade her husband with reason. “But how are we to form a proper alliance if I am kept from my people? They must see that I am agreeable with you first. Only then will they trust you.”
“I’m sure Van Dero’s word will be enough.” He continued to drag her in the opposite direction of Oliver. “Your place will be where I say it is.” He smiled at her. “Mostly, in my bed.”
Old fears bloomed, but she fought them down.
This was nothing out of the ordinary. Many lords thought their wives nothing more than breeding wombs. It might take time, but she’d convince him that she was more than that.
And if there was one fact that she could cling to more than anything else, it was that he would never share her. She would never have to worry about being passed around to his friends.
She shivered at the thought and fought back the bile that tried to rise with the memory.
“You must be cold. You’re quaking,” he said.
She smiled at him. “Just thinking about your bed, my lord.”
Dunst narrowed his gaze, but he could not hide his raised color. “We’ll have to work on that tongue of yours. It’s far too outrageous. A lady shouldn’t say the things you say.”
“Not even to her husband in private?”
“No. In fact, I might think of a punishment to deal out whenever you get out of line.” He smiled again.
Punishments? She hadn’t thought Dunst that sort of man.
Belle closed her mouth. Her charm was one of her best weapons. How was she to take charge of her marriage if he wouldn’t allow her to speak as she did?
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’ll be sure not to leave a mark anywhere someone can see.”
Belle stumbled, but he kept her from falling.
His smile grew as he looked her face over. “That’s better.”
What was better? Her obvious fear?
“I admit, I was worried that my sensual taste would offend Lady Vita,” Dunst said. “But now that I am married to a woman as worldly as you, I see no reason to hold back. We shall have great fun together, you and me.” He ran a finger down her arm and whispered, “You’ve committed so many sins, my lady. You shall pay for them all. I will take pleasure in breaking you.”
She shivered again. She knew men like him.
Only once had Gregory forced her to submit to such a wretched man, not because of her tears, but because she’d been bloodied and ruined so badly that she’d been unable to do anything but sleep and heal for weeks.
She remembered asking for death through the session and after. Belle took no pleasure in pain.
What had she gotten herself into?
Belle remained in a constant state of fear through the rest of the breakfast. More than once, Cassius and the other came by to check on her, but she kept her face from showing what went on in her heart.
It was still early in the afternoon when they arrived at Dunst’s home. During the ride, Dunst had been silent, which allowed Belle to think of just how she planned to get herself out of her situation.
She couldn’t help but recall the first time she’d ridden in a carriage with him a few weeks ago. He’d struck her hard enough to make her blackout.
But that situation had been different. She’d been trying to take Vita way from him. She’d killed two of his men. He’d been angry.
She’d never thought he’d think to do it again or to his own wife. She’d never believed he’d receive any sort of pleasure from it.
She’d been a fool to think otherwise, which left her with only one choice. She’d have to let him know that his sensual taste would have to be taken elsewhere. She would not accept his hand on her and if he dared to touch her in any way that wasn’t kind, she’d kill him.
That was her last thought as the carriage came to a stop in front of his house.
He helped her out and up the stairs.
In the foyer, he said, “I want you to go upstairs and undress.” To her great horror, he said all this in front of the staff who had gathered to greet her. “Not a stitch of clothing should be left on you when I arrive. You will kneel in the middle of the room— ”
“I think not.” If he wanted to have this conversation in front of others, then she would have it. “I am a lady and not a whore. If you wish—”
His hand went up.
Belle blocked the hit before she went on. “If it is a whore—”
He struck her in the stomach with a force that knocked all the air from her lungs. The pain traveled and spread. Her knees gave way. She’d barely hit the floor before he grabbed her hair and began to yank her toward the stairs.
She screamed and pushed herself to her feet to lessen the pain. His steps were so swift that if she dared protest, she would lose great portions of her hair.
A fear like she’d never known before consumed her as they started up the stairs.
He never said a word through her wailing and tears. She begged him to stop, to slow down, but he didn’t.
When he finally did stop, she was tossed into a dark room and the door was shut. She heard it lock as well.
The room was so black Belle couldn’t see her hands.
Immediately, she stopped crying and tried to listen for him in the room.
There was nothing over the sound of her pounding heart.
Was he in there with her?
She had to hold back a scream. If his servants hadn’t come to her rescue downstairs, they would not come now.
How had she thought she could control him? There was no controlling a man like him. He would kill her. She was certain of it now.
The thought of dying in the dark like this was the most frightening thought of all.
Trying to be as careful as possible, she slowly crawled backward.
Her head throbbed from where he’d yanked her. Her stomach ached enough that she moaned out quietly with every move.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 0
* * *
“I didn’t expect you could be frightened so easily.”
Dunst’s voice made Belle gasp. She looked around but couldn’t tell where it had come from. A whimper she couldn’t stop escaped her.
“You will learn that I am not like other men,” Dunst said. “Cassius and those around him have been humbled by their wives. You will find that the men in my circle never allow such things to happen.”
She knew where his voice was now. To the left.
“You did me a favor when you stopped me from marrying Vita. She had the power to change me. She was so sweet. Her fear was so innocent. I would never have wanted to hurt her. She was so polite. I could never corrupt such a peaceful nature.”
Belle moved in the other direction and bumped into something that nearly made her scream. It felt like a snake, but it stopped moving once she stopped kicking it.
She reached out with her hand to see what it was. A curtain? A way to escape.
No. A rope. Thin and braided.
A whip.
Belle closed her eyes and prayed she was wrong.
Dunst went on. “While I’d have taught Vita to enjoy some of my games, I would have used a gentle hand with her. The more humiliating acts would never have been committed. But you, Belle, have earned every bit of my ire.”
A light flared from across the room and b
linded her for a moment.
“I shall master you,” Dunst said. “And you shall learn what it is to be ruled, Lady Cebele.”
Belle looked at the object in her hand. A black leather whip.
The moment she looked up at the rest of the room, she wished she hadn’t.
It reminded her of drawings of medieval torture chambers. There were wooden fixtures where an offender would stand chained up or spread open. There were more leather tools, but it was the iron ones that made her scream.
Dunst started toward her. “On your knees, Lady Cebele.”
“Please!” She couldn’t see anymore. Her tears blinded her. She begged and held up her hands as he moved forward.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Not now,” Dunst called. He reached out, and she cringed as his hands went to her dress. With a yank, it split in two right down the middle.
She moaned in fear and tried to cover herself.
The banging came again.
Dunst sighed and went to the door.
Belle breathed with relief and then started looking around for something she could use as a weapon. She could not do this. She would kill herself before she let him abuse her.
Dunst opened the door and gave a shout. Then he was gone, as though something had yanked him through the opening.
Belle stayed behind the wooden garrote device and reached for a sword from the wall.
Dunst grunted in the hall. Belle didn’t know what was going on, but her nerves wouldn’t settle as she realized there was nowhere to hide. She was visible around anything.
Once he came back…
A figure filled the doorway, and Belle screamed.
Then she stopped and blinked.
Oliver?
He moved toward her and she stood. She dropped the sword once he was in front of her.
He touched her cheek and looked around the room in confusion.
She crashed into him and immediately started to weep.
He’d saved her.
For the second time in her life, he’d saved her.
But then another thought hit her. She gasped and looked up. “Are you here to kill me?”
He frowned. “What? No. I’d never kill you.”
“Oh, thank God.” Then she buried her face in his chest.
The Marquess Who Kissed Me: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 5
