by Meara Platt
“Perhaps I could have forgiven them if they’d shown any sympathy. But they were like rats abandoning a sinking ship and couldn’t scurry away fast enough.” Although peeved, she did not try to remove her hands from his grasp. To Marcus, it may have signified nothing more than a touch to capture her attention.
To her, his touch was magical. It was hope and reassurance.
Her feelings for him still made her head spin. He’d become as important to her as the breath of life itself.
She trusted him completely, even if she did not always agree with his decisions. “If Montvey’s men are dangerous, then won’t my father be in danger if he remains at home?”
Marcus pursed his lips.
She could see that he wanted to soften the truth, but there was no way to present it in a manner that was palatable. “Yes, he will be in danger. But he’s still under house arrest, and not even I can take him from your home until he is formally cleared of the charges. I will ask Queen Charlotte for help in expediting the decree, but I don’t know if she will do it. I’m not even certain why she’s interested in Montvey or why she asked to see me. Let’s hear what she has to say.”
“And if she refuses to get involved?”
He released her hands and leaned back against the squabs. His carriage was spacious and the height of elegance. The seats were padded and covered in softest black leather. The undercarriage was well sprung to ease the jolt of a bumpy ride. The Kinross crest was emblazoned on its black, highly polished exterior.
This man did not like bright colors. His clothes were dark. His carriage was dark. So were his splendid eyes.
Yet his home, as much of it as Lara had seen of it when breaking in the other day, appeared quite warm and inviting, not at all funereal. No doubt, a woman’s touch. His mother’s? His aunt’s? Or did he have another female of importance in his life?
How stupid of her!
Women must flock to him like sheep.
He’d said he wanted to kiss her under the mistletoe, but did he really mean it? Was he just telling her what she wished to hear in order to more easily control her?
Did any woman hold his heart?
Please don’t love anyone. I need you to love me.
Marcus shifted uncomfortably as though understanding her thoughts. She knew it wasn’t so, he couldn’t possibly know what she was thinking. He was obviously contemplating her question about the queen.
But his captivating manner and the graceful power of his movements could not be overlooked.
He filled the carriage with his presence.
She supposed he had the same effect wherever he went, every room he entered, down every lane he marched. Everyone noticed him, especially the women. It had nothing to do with his height or muscular build. Well, not only those attributes. Yes, he was tall and handsome, and his body seemingly carved of exquisite, Italian marble.
“If the queen will not help us expedite your father’s release,” he said, capturing her attention which had strayed beyond the proper, “I’ll assign additional Bow Street runners to your home to protect him. I already have them in place. I’ll double the watch. He won’t be alone. I promise you, Lara.”
She melted at the sound of his voice, its deep, rumbling tones as he pronounced her name. She was being pulled in by him, even if she didn’t quite trust that he had feelings for her. “If he’s to be protected, then why may I not stay with him?”
“For my sake,” he surprised her by admitting. “When planning any battle, I need to address all contingencies. When I go after these men, I need to be certain you are out of harm’s way. I must not be distracted worrying about you. In truth, I considered taking you to my country home and leaving you there under guard while I did whatever had to be done here in town. But I’ve dismissed the notion. You’d only trick the guards and run straight back here,” he said with a wry arch of his brow, grinning.
Since he was being honest with her, she could be no less with him. “Let’s hear what Queen Charlotte has to say. I don’t mean to be difficult, but my father is everything to me. I cannot simply pack up my bags and leave him. We’ve faced all challenges together. It doesn’t feel right that we should be kept apart now.”
He made no argument, merely gave her a curt nod.
His expression was once again unreadable, but this was Marcus. He would never let you know what he was thinking until he was ready to divulge it. She supposed he had divulged it, for he wanted her out of the Le Brecque home and under his protection while he went about bringing down Montvey.
He didn’t discuss his plan further because in his mind, he was going to get his way. “You could hide me at the Wicked Earls’ Club, if necessary. I’d be out of the way and yet close enough to my father to go to him if he should need me.”
“What is your fascination with that club? Put the notion out of your head at once. I’m sorry I ever mentioned it to you. It is a last retreat, a sanctuary where no one would ever think to look for you. That’s all it is.” He frowned at her, quite an intimidating frown, but she was not put off by it at all.
In truth, very little intimidated her after all these years of struggle. “Will you take me there once this horrid affair is over?”
She thought he’d be angered by her persistence, and was caught unaware by his seductive smile. “Perhaps,” he said with a groaning chuckle. “On one condition.”
She sighed. “Why must there always be conditions when dealing with you? Very well, I promise to stay close to you at all times.”
“That isn’t my condition.”
“It isn’t? Oh, what then?” She smiled impudently again. “That I will keep my clothes on at all times?” She rather enjoyed shocking him.
However, he did not appear shocked at all. Instead, he cast her a sinfully wicked smile that melted her to her toes.
“Lara,” he said with a soft, sensual growl and a smolder in his gaze, “if ever I were so fortunate as to get you there for reasons other than protecting your life…”
Oh, heavens. “Yes?”
“I would never require you to keep so much as a stitch on.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. Was he suggesting he’d like to see her without her clothes? Completely…without corset, stockings, or chemise?
Heat shot into her cheeks.
He grinned in triumph.
She had no chance to pursue the conversation, which was highly improper anyway, for they’d reached Buckingham House. “I should wait in the carriage or in the visitor’s hall,” Lara whispered when Marcus stepped down and reached out to take her hand.
“No, we’ll meet the queen together.” He helped her to alight, but did not release her. Instead, he tucked her arm in his as they were led down a long, carpeted hall toward the queen’s drawing room.
“I shouldn’t–”
“Lara, she’ll be pleased I brought you along. You know more about Montvey than I do. And if this turns out to be more about Hugh than his wretched cousin, then who knows Hugh better than his own sister?”
She sighed. “Why must you always be so sensible? It is quite irritating.”
“I can assure you, I am not always sensible.” They were at the queen’s door now, two large doors that were painted white and trimmed in gold. “Certainly never when it comes to you.”
“What do you mean by that?” Blessed saints. Was he suggesting he liked her? Or was it more of his ruse? But what if it wasn’t? Did she bring out his wild desire?
She snorted a laugh, then quickly smothered it with a fake cough.
Her mind was still reeling as the queen walked in. Lara curtsied before her. “Your Majesty.”
And what condition did he intend to place on her when taking her to the Wicked Earls’ Club? She’d never gotten her answer.
Drat, she found it most distracting.
What would he require her to do?
Something deliciously wicked, she hoped.
CHAPTER SIX
“YOU ARE LORD Brixham’s sis
ter?” Queen Charlotte intoned, staring down at Lara from her throne. It was more of a tall chair, really. This was the queen’s private quarters and rarely used for receiving anyone other than friends, family, and the occasional special guest.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” She and Marcus were invited to sit, yet another unexpected honor, for Lara had been certain the queen would have her tossed out on her ear for appearing unannounced. Apparently, Marcus held more sway with the royal family than he’d let on. The queen made no comment, merely motioned for her to take a seat.
The queen directed her next questions to Marcus. “You’ve been asking after Lord Governor Montvey. Tell me why.”
Marcus quickly explained the intrigue surrounding Hugh’s conviction and his escape for the purpose of bringing Montvey to justice. “Then you believe Lady Lara’s brother is innocent of the charges?”
“Yes,” Lara said vehemently, then shrank back, realizing she’d overstepped and responded to a question addressed to Marcus.
“Hugh is an honorable man, Ma’am,” Marcus said, picking up the response with far more dignity than she had managed. “The man he was accused of murdering, Captain Richard Harlan, was our best friend. The three of us were inseparable during our school days. We would have walked through fire for each other. I believe our friendship is the reason Captain Harlan was targeted for murder by Lord Governor Montvey.”
He paused a moment, obviously intending the weight of his words to sink in before continuing. “It was a purposely cruel blow, meant to inflict maximum damage on Lady Lara’s brother. We have reason to believe the affidavits taken from Captain Harlan’s crew immediately after the crime occurred fully exonerated Lord Brixham. However, those affidavits were destroyed either by Lord Montvey or Lord Dunning and never presented at trial. We know Lord Dunning was paid to tamper with the evidence.”
“That is a serious accusation, Kinross.”
“I stand behind it.”
The queen pursed her lips in thought. “Then you would vouch for Lady Lara’s brother?”
Marcus nodded. “I’d stake my earldom on his innocence.”
The queen appeared relieved. Lara wanted to ask her about her interest in Hugh, but didn’t dare. Thankfully, Marcus asked. “This seems of importance to you. May we know why? It may help us gathering the necessary proof to bring down these villains.”
The queen did not seem inclined to acknowledge the question, but to Lara’s relief, she finally deigned to respond. “When Lord Brixham escaped from Portsmouth Prison, he took a young lady with him. That young lady was my dear cousin, Emma Langdon.”
Lara gasped.
The queen and Marcus immediately turned their gazes on her. “I’ve never met her,” Lara hurried to explain, “but I know of her. You see, my brother was in love with Lady Emma. He meant to propose to her the very night our father was placed under arrest and accused of treason. Before he could tell her of his feelings, he received news of our father and rushed home.”
“Serious charges,” the queen remarked.
“That’s when our nightmare began.” At the queen’s urging, Lara told her everything. She spared no detail, at times speaking through tears. She felt drained by the time she was through with her tale.
The queen, despite her empathy, gave no assurances of assistance. Lara said nothing until she and Marcus were once more in his carriage. He must have sensed she was about to fall to pieces, for instead of taking the seat opposite hers, he settled beside her and took hold of her hand. “Lara, it was a good meeting.”
She wished she could believe him. He spoke to her so gently, his manner so comforting as the carriage rolled away from the queen’s residence, she fell more deeply in love with him.
Lara nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder.
Having to relate their years of anguish took so much out of her. She’d laid bare her soul, leaving out not a single, painful detail. Christmas was approaching and she wanted so desperately to be cheerful, to think of nothing but pudding and velvet ribbons and good company. She wanted to string decorations with Marcus and have him kiss her under every mistletoe they put up in the house.
That first kiss they’d shared when sealing their bargain the other morning had been wonderful and she was in sore need of another. “We accomplished nothing. She didn’t agree to help clear Hugh or my father.”
“She listened to you. She gave you an hour of her time. Do you realize how rare this is?”
“All she was interested in was her cousin, Lady Emma. Once assured she was safe with my brother, she didn’t care about the rest of it.”
“You’re wrong, Lara. I think she took everything to heart. Allowing those in positions of power to spread rot from within the walls of our country is no small worry. She will not tell us what she plans to do, but she will do something.”
She was still leaning her head against his shoulder. “I hope you’re right.”
He put his arm around her and drew her close. “I am always right,” he teased, purposely attempting to lift her fallen spirits.
Despite her best intentions, she laughed. “Ah, I quite forgot how perfect you are.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way to the Le Brecque townhouse. She wondered if his mother and aunt were still there. Lara grew more tense as they neared her home. She hadn’t been away from her father in years. Yet, Marcus wanted her to join him and his family for supper. Had he intended to return her home afterward, she would have been all right with the invitation. But she did not think he would. He meant to keep her under his protection, whatever that meant, until all the culprits were rounded up and hauled to prison. “Marcus, I may not be very good company this evening.”
“You may not stay home, Lara. Matters will come to a head soon. Montvey’s agents will soon learn Dunning has been taken into custody. I don’t know who they are or what they plan to do. But I want them to have to go through me if ever they hope to get to you.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead.
“My father is more at risk. He’s the one with the title Montvey covets.”
“But you are his heart and soul. He will give Montvey anything to save you from harm. For this reason, I must keep you and your father apart for now. I don’t want them able to concentrate their efforts on one target. Be patient. You are both well protected. Allow me to do what I must. I’ll have you home by next week. We’ll string up those Christmas decorations then.”
“Is it a promise?”
“It is my fervent hope. I’ll do all in my power to make it happen.”
“But not a promise. It’s all right. I understand.” Lara took a deep breath before entering her house. She fixed a smile on her face. To her surprise, her father was more at ease and cheerful than she’d seen him in years, his spirits obviously bolstered by his company.
She heard his peal of hearty laughter as they approached the parlor and paused to simply listen.
Marcus stood beside her, patiently waiting and watching as she put her ear to the door. She closed her eyes and took in the unfamiliar sounds of joy.
He caressed her cheek. “One week, Lara. I’ll do my best to make your miracle happen.”
LARA’S AGONY WAS palpable as she bade her father farewell.
To know she was unhappy and suffering tore Marcus apart. Her father was doing his best to keep his tone merry. “Lara, I shall be in excellent hands with Mr. Barrow and his men,” he said once Marcus had introduced them to the Bow Street runners assigned to watch him.
Mr. Barrow bobbed his head in agreement. “Never ye worry, Lady Lara. No one will get near ’is lordship. My lads and I will see to it.”
She had to admit, there was something quite solid and reassuring about the fellow. “I have every faith in you.” She cast the man a hopeful smile.
“Come, Lara.” Marcus led her out, tucking her arm in his and leading her to his carriage once her maid had packed a bag for her and his driver had stowed it in the boot. “Supper tonight will be a rather noisy affair. Miranda
’s sons will be joining us. They can get rowdy, but Miranda will seat you beside me.”
“My protector.” She knew that she sounded more irritated than grateful, but hoped Marcus would realize this forced separation from her father was difficult for her.
“Always, Lara. I hope you know that.”
He spoke the words so tenderly, it brought a renewed ache to her heart. “I do.”
Once they’d made certain Lady Miranda and his mother were safely in Miranda’s carriage and on their way back to Miranda’s home, they departed the Le Brecque residence. Marcus tucked a blanket over Lara’s lap to keep her warm. Now that the sun had begun to set on the horizon, the temperature would quickly drop.
They followed a little behind Miranda’s carriage, both conveyances slowly making their way through London’s busy streets that were bustling at twilight.
Marcus had planned for Lara to remain with his aunt overnight. His mother had volunteered to join them for no other reason than she wasn’t going to miss out on the excitement. His cousins, Ronan, Joshua, and Finn still resided at home, and would stand watch over Lara. Tynan, Miranda’s eldest son, who would soon be Earl of Westcliff, was also going to stay overnight and stand guard over Lara.
Marcus was relieved, for he trusted Tynan with his life.
Of course, he trusted Ronan, Joshua, and Finn as well, but they were young still and not quite as wise to the ways of the world as he or Tynan were.
What mattered to him most was Lara would be well protected.
He needed this peace of mind, for tracking down Montvey’s agents required his full concentration and this girl had an innocent way of shattering it.
His driver suddenly reined in the horses. Marcus didn’t like sudden movements. “Travis, what’s happened?”
“I’m not sure, m’lord. There’s a carriage blocking the street up ahead. Yer aunt’s carriage made it past ’em though. Accident must have just happened.”
