The Marquess Who Kissed Me: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  And Oliver could live with that, though he wasn’t sure exactly where that left him as an assassin.

  * * *

  As the women waited for the men to return, Milly kept them busy with needlework. She was very good at stitching. Though born gentry, she’d received a very good education from books and her mother before the woman died.

  Belle’s education had been very different. She spoke more languages than most, but that was mostly so she understood the men whose beds she’d been forced to share.

  She asked Milly to show her a certain stitch and then began a project she’d been wanting to do for days.

  Milly was quiet through most of the morning. She was upset, her movements jerked, but she didn’t talk about it. What was the point? They’d all seen what transpired in the ballroom. Yet though she didn’t smile, she remained gracious. She was a very good duchess.

  In the drawing-room where they sat, guards stood in every corner. Shepard was at Belle’s back. She felt safe.

  Belle was done with her project by the time the men returned.

  She hid her cloth behind her back, not ready for anyone to see it.

  Milly stood and Cassius spoke before she could. “You are to meet with Sir Raven, Lord Remy, and Lord Sirius about the additions you wish to implement at the mines. Whatever you wish, they shall make it so.”

  His wife blinked. “So, I’m to oversee it?”

  “I was impressed with what I saw. I can’t think of a better mind for it.”

  Milly smiled and then rushed across the room and gazed up at her husband as he grinned down at her. Then, in seconds, those gazes became hot.

  Cassius grabbed his wife and turned to Raven. “You shall speak to Milly later.”

  “Later?” Raven, who’d been standing where he’d been unable to see Cassius’ eyes fill with lust, looked confused. “But—”

  “Later,” Cassius said.

  “Cass,” Milly whispered.

  But her husband would not be stopped. He grabbed his wife’s hand and fled the room. Milly’s laughter could be heard in the hall.

  Belle’s eyes found Oliver. He was staring over her shoulder, likely at Shepard, but then he looked at her. His expression was unreadable and yet her heart raced, nonetheless.

  Raven sighed and turned to Belle. “We need to talk.”

  “About?”

  “Securing your life.”

  Belle’s pulse slowed with fear. She stood and followed him from the room.

  “You can stay back,” Oliver said to Shepard. “You’re not needed for this conversation.”

  Belle opened her mouth to protest, but Oliver cut in. “I’ll return Lady Belle to you when this is over.” He lifted a brow at Belle and waited for her approval.

  Belle thought and then nodded at Shepard. “I’ll be all right.”

  Shepard bowed and returned to the drawing-room.

  “What’s that?” Oliver was looking down at her hands.

  Belle handed him his socks. “I stitched them for you.” Since the moment she’d seen his toe sticking out, she’d wanted to fix it, and she’d wanted to do it herself. So, she’d gone to the room he was staying in, grabbed every sock with a hole she could find, and fixed them.

  There’d only been three.

  Oliver took them. “You darned my socks?” He pressed the items to his chest. “How very domestic of you.”

  She laughed and was glad he’d not thought much of the gesture. “You’re welcome.” She was still wearing a smile when she walked into Raven’s office.

  Oliver grabbed her just when a man in a chair turned around and stood.

  Husher.

  “What are you doing here?” Oliver asked.

  “There are still two weeks on my contract,” Husher said.

  Oliver pushed her behind him.

  Husher lifted his hands. “I’m here to protect her.”

  Raven said, “Husher has never been an enemy to Cassius.”

  “Tell that to the boy he stabbed on my land,” Oliver said.

  Belle had forgotten about Noel’s injury weeks ago. She wondered if he still suffered from the pain.

  “I didn’t kill him,” Husher said. “I didn’t kill anyone on your property, though we both know I could have.”

  Oliver stepped forward. “You were in Belle’s room. I still wish to hurt you for that.”

  Belle gasped.

  “Enough.” Raven moved between them. “This is getting us nowhere. Someone wants Belle dead. It isn’t us, so we need to work together to figure it out.”

  “Is Cassius aware that Husher is here?” Oliver asked. “How long have you been here?”

  “I arrived when you did,” Husher said. “I’m protecting her.”

  “She doesn’t need your protection,” Oliver said.

  Husher crossed his arms. “You do realize how this works, don’t you? In two weeks, I’ll have failed and someone else will be hired.”

  “And we have no idea who that someone else will be,” Raven said. “So we need to work together.”

  Oliver did not look like he wished to work out anything. His face reflected rage.

  “Ollie,” she tried. “Let’s just hear whatever it is they have to say.”

  “I don’t trust you,” Oliver said to Raven. “Your loyalty is to Husher before it is to Cassius.”

  “Husher, for all intents and purposes, is my brother,” Raven said. “I’m sure you’d stand against anyone who tried to kill Nicholas or Leonard.”

  Oliver said nothing.

  Raven backed away. “We should all sit down and talk. The sooner we do, perhaps the sooner we can find out who is trying to kill Belle.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 7

  * * *

  Belle jumped when Oliver grabbed her hand and led her to the couch. When they sat, she was forced to sit so close to him that she might as well have been on his lap. His body was forward, still partly blocking her. “Let’s talk.”

  Raven and Husher sat in chairs across from them.

  Husher’s pale green gaze found Belle and she smiled. “Hello, Beauty.”

  She found it hard to fight her lips from tilting up. “Husher. I didn’t give you permission to enter my room. You’ve been a naughty boy, haven’t you?”

  He wiggled his brows. “You’ve no idea.”

  “Are we done flirting?” Oliver asked. “Because I’d like to get to the part where we figure out a way to keep you breathing.” Oliver’s menacing stare was all for her.

  Belle sighed. “I’m trying to lower the tension in the room, Oliver. It’s far too hostile right now. We need peace.”

  Oliver’s face eventually relaxed, and he nodded and turned to Husher. “How were you contracted?”

  “A note from Violet of the Square. She’s a flower girl.”

  “A flower girl?” Belle asked.

  “She is one of the many ways my services can be hired. Ask Oliver, he knows.”

  Oliver nodded. “Violet of the Square.”

  Husher went on, “You give a letter to Violet, and she gives it to the man you request. This note asked me to kill you and quoted a figure and an expiration date. If I accepted, I was to purchase a violet from the girl.”

  “You took the violet,” Oliver said.

  “I looked around at the crowd, but Covent Garden is always full. I saw no one and then when I turned back to the girl, she was gone as well. I looked for her for days but couldn’t find her.”

  “And even if he had, who is to say what she knows?” Raven said. “We wouldn’t torture it out of her. Clearly, the man who’d hired her knew that.”

  Children were abused far too easily in London, but Cassius’ friends wouldn’t even think to do something like that.

  “We’ll ask Noel to write to his friends,” Belle said. “Maybe one of the boys on the street knows where the girl lives.” Noel had been making friends quickly in the major cities, not only to put some of them in Belle’s homes but to find out who’d been forced t
o fight in the children's rings and who their old masters were.

  Oliver said, “That’s a good idea.”

  She smiled at his words.

  “Why a month?” Raven asked.

  “Maybe they didn’t want her to conceive an heir,” Oliver said. “It’s the only thing I can think of.”

  Belle hadn’t thought about that.

  “Who is Dunst’s heir right now?” Oliver asked.

  Raven and Husher shared a look and then Raven said, “We don’t know. We didn’t think of that.”

  “Dunst was wealthy,” Oliver said. “With Dunst only declared missing, it will take years before the courts feel comfortable declaring him dead.”

  “Then maybe we should kill him,” Husher said.

  “I’m in,” Oliver said.

  “No.” Belle grabbed his arm. “No more killing.”

  Oliver’s blue eyes held hers. “Belle, it’s what I do.”

  “Not anymore,” she whispered. “You are only a lord now.” He was a large part of the reason she’d helped with the prison. Oliver needed to be free.

  “That’s not how it works,” he said. “We’re not discussing this.”

  “Well, there’s no point anyway,” Belle said. “We never signed a marriage contract. I’ll announce it when I return to London.”

  “And once that’s announced, Dunst’s heir may arrive in London, ready to take over what his predecessor left behind.”

  So they had a plan.

  They discussed a few other ideas and then Husher stood. “I’ll leave and return if the duke wishes to speak to me.”

  “Stay in town,” Raven told him.

  “I will.” Husher looked at Belle. “So long as you are in danger.”

  “Belle is protected,” Oliver declared before he took her from the room. His body continued to block hers from the other men.

  In the hall, she pulled away. “Oliver, they aren’t going to kill me.”

  “I’d like to be certain of that,” he said. “There is no second chance if we’re wrong.”

  She nodded in understanding. “When do I get to go to the mines?”

  Oliver led her in the opposite direction of the drawing-room where Shepard waited for her. His hand was heavy on her lower back. “I’ll take you tomorrow.”

  “Where are we going now?”

  “A place where we can be alone.”

  Her body throbbed to life with need, and she cursed its reaction. Oliver didn’t want her. She already knew that. She’d known that for years. She’d tried tempting him during their time together five years ago and never did he seem interested.

  The changes since then had only been for the worse. He still hated her. He likely only wished to talk.

  He led her to a smaller saloon and closed the door behind them. He wasted no time with his questions. He stepped forward and asked. “Could it be a past lover?”

  “What?”

  “The man who wants you dead. Could he be one of your past lovers?”

  Belle’s chested tightened, and she closed her eyes. “No.”

  “No? Perhaps, you need time to go through the list and think about it.”

  She opened her eyes and glared at him. “I keep telling you that you don’t know me, but you don’t listen.”

  He crossed his arms. “I know a few of the men you’ve slept with, Belle. They’re not good men. Most of the men who work for Cass are questionable.”

  As soon as the rage boiled up, Belle put a lid on it. It was something she’d trained herself to do. She’d received punishments when she’d allowed her anger to get the best of her in the past. She smiled. “Well, since you already know them, you may ask them all yourself. But if I might suggest, ask questions before you kill them. Dead men aren’t too good at talking.”

  She walked around him.

  He placed a hand on the door, and Belle didn’t bother trying to open it. She turned to face him a

  nd was met with his anger.

  “I wish you would take this seriously. You could die, Belle. Do you even care?”

  She worked his words through her mind and found a way to forgive his insinuations. “We weren’t friends long, yet we’ve been interacting with one another for five years. In all that time, you’ve never been afraid to ask me about any aspect of my life except for where my many lovers are concerned. You always simply assumed.”

  He was breathing hard. “Am I wrong?”

  “Very, but in truth, I don’t feel the need to defend my actions. I am Lady Cebele Lawrence. My father is gone. I am the wife of no man. I am free to live as I see fit. If you can’t understand that then I will need you to go and find the damsel you’re looking to protect, because she is not me.”

  Nothing about his visage or his posture changed during her little speech.

  He said nothing.

  They stood there for a great length of time.

  And then he pulled away.

  Belle turned and opened the door. “Coward.” The accusation was out of her mouth before she realized it.

  Oliver dragged her back and closed the door. “What did you call me?”

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She was suddenly nervous.

  He tilted his head. Blue eyes narrowed. “You were bold enough to say it to the door. Say it to my face.”

  She swallowed. “You’re a coward.”

  “How so?”

  “Because you want you to know the answer to the question burning in your mind. That’s why you never ask it. Yet, for the life of me, I can’t understand why the answer would matter. You hate me. Nothing would change by knowing the truth.”

  “Men don’t like asking this question,” he said. “And as you said, it’s not my place to ask.”

  She shrugged. “Then there you have it.”

  He groaned. “How many lovers have you had?”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 8

  * * *

  “Are you asking me how many men were forced upon me or how many men I invited to my bed of my own free will?” She would never call the former lovers for either they themselves had taken advantage of her or Gregory had forced her to seduce them, which again hadn’t been her choice.

  “The latter.”

  “One.”

  Oliver’s body locked. “One?”

  She nodded. “But I’ve allowed the rumors from others to flourish because it made the lips of other men very loose in the hopes of getting in my bed. I was very good at collecting secrets.” She gave him a hard look. “But secrets were all I ever collected, along with gifts.”

  “But you only ever willingly slept with one man.”

  “Who happened to be a friend,” she said. “And he never bought me a single gift.” She looked him over. “Much like you. It was completely physical. We were not in love. We parted ways amicably and have never looked at one another that way again.”

  “Who is he?”

  She lifted a brow. “Do you believe me?”

  Strangely, he did.

  Perhaps there had always been a part of him that knew the rumors were lies. The way men spoke of Belle in bed… it didn’t seem true at all. He must have imagined Belle in his bed a million times in the past five years.

  Also, there was something else the men who claimed to bed her never mentioned.

  A tattoo he’d seen when she’d come to him bruised and bloody. That no one mentioned it always gave him pause.

  Yet it couldn’t be missed.

  It was right under her left breast and written in a language he didn’t understand. He’d never asked her what the words meant. At the time, he’d been more concerned with making sure she was all right.

  Oliver had had various partners in the past. He never spoke about them to anyone.

  “I believe you,” he said.

  She relaxed.

  “Now, who was it?” he asked.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  That meant he knew the man.

  Oliver narrowed his eyes.

/>   Belle crossed her arms. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He balled his hands into fists and then pushed off the door. She was right. It didn’t matter and it shouldn’t for one main reason: He and Belle would never be together. “Are you sure he’s not trying to kill you?”

  “Since we stopped our affair, he’s become happily married,” she said. “I am friends with his wife. It was a hard-won friendship that I’ll not have you ruin.”

  She sounded truly and completely over the gentleman, which made Oliver glad, though again… it shouldn’t matter to him either way.

  “How long has it been since…?”

  She sighed. “Almost a year.”

  A year? She hadn’t been touched in a year?

  There had been quite a few marriages in the past year.

  Oliver thought about dates and couples close to the time Belle would have stopped…

  “Stop,” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter who he is.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Can I leave now?”

  He opened the door for her. “I’ll take you back to Shepard.”

  “Thank you.”

  He followed. A year? His eyes swept over Belle’s curves. She was a true masterpiece. And one who hadn’t been touched in months.

  That shouldn’t matter.

  Yet his hardening erection wouldn’t listen.

  Once he saw her to Shepard, Oliver started to his room, but a shout from an open room made him pause. He stuck his head into a small men’s cabinet and saw Leo standing by a writing desk. His arms were crossed. “Can we speak?”

  Oliver closed the door behind him as he stepped over the threshold. “What’s this about? And it better not be about Belle.”

  Leo frowned. “Belle? Why would I discuss her with you? I’m not Nick. I understand having an aversion to locking one’s self to another person.”

  Was that what drove Oliver? A need to be free of Belle? He didn’t think so, but he knew it was why Leo wasn’t married and likely would never marry. Each brother was damaged in their own way. Elisa was a special woman for loving Nicholas in spite of his flaws.

  “What’s this about?” Oliver asked.

  “Dunst’s chessboard.” Where Leo abhorred the idea of being dedicated to another person, he was very good at his work. He put everything into it. He was almost as obsessed with his assignments as Oliver was with his land.