The Mistress Enchants Her Marquis

by Christina McKnight

  As her mother and his father had done in death.

  As her father and his mother had done by running away.

  As Jude had done by falling in love and marrying Simon.

  Eventually, Marce and Payton would do the same.

  She and Garrett had never been close, but even he would become more distant.

  Where would Sam live if Marce married and moved to her husband’s home? Would Craven House be sold? Sam hadn’t the means to care for the property. A future as a spinster, shuffled between the unwelcoming homes of different family members seemed likely for her.

  It was that or trust in another person to care for her.

  The closest she’d been to allowing another into her life was Elijah, and in the end, she’d pushed him away, too. She’d clung to him for as long as she could before a decision had to be made.

  A permanent attachment with confessed feelings of mutual love and devotion…

  Or end their association before she had the chance of getting hurt.

  But she was already hurting. Saying what she had to push him away the previous night had driven a spike into her own heart. The agony of losing Elijah would not disappear anytime soon.

  “I think it is best I go.” Jude stood and shook out her skirts. “I can see you are not feeling well. Do call on me when you are in better health.”

  Jude leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Sam’s cheek.

  “Farewell,” Jude called over her shoulder as she left, closing Sam’s door behind her.

  Chapter 33

  Elijah loaded the final empty crate into the waiting wagon, preparing his convoy to return to Liverpool. His task was complete, every object accounted for, the catalogue triple-checked for accuracy. There was nothing left for him to do but return to the Cartwright townhouse, collect Mathers and his personal carriage, and be on his way. With the wagons not loaded down with all the antiquities, they would be able to travel at a faster pace back to Liverpool.

  Home.

  A familiar, comforting place—as much as any place felt like home to Elijah.

  Why was he stalling?

  The sun had crested in the sky hours before. If they wanted to travel outside of London proper before nightfall, they needs must be on their way.

  Instead of mounting his horse, Elijah walked back into the museum in search of Ames. The man had been a great help, a pleasure to work alongside with a work ethic that would have pleased the late marquis greatly.

  “My lord,” Ames called, weaving through the many piles of collectibles. “I thought you had left. Is there something more I can help you with?”

  The young man’s welcoming smile had been a constant the past few days, and for some unknown reason, Eli needed him to know how much that meant to him. “Ames.” Eli held out his hand for the man to shake. “It has been a pleasure working alongside you.”

  “For me, as well.” He eyed the offered hand for only a moment before grasping it and giving it a firm shake.

  “I want you to know that if the museum does not appoint you to a paid position—a long-term position—then they are fools.”

  The man’s cheeks blossomed with embarrassment. “It is my intention to work diligently until the day comes, my lord.”

  “Very good, but if the day does not come—or does not come soon enough—please write to me. I may be coordinating a few expeditions in the near future.” Elijah had thought about travel but had made no sure plans. He was uncertain why he’d mention the possibility to the man. “I would enjoy having you on my team when the day comes.”

  Ames’s eyes rounded, and his arms hung limply at his sides in disbelief. “My lord,” he stammered. “I do not know what to say. I would be honored to accompany you on your journeys.”

  “And mayhap, when we return, we can promise the museum a new exhibit—as long as your employment is part of the deal.” It was a brilliant idea, one that would keep Eli occupied and his mind off a certain woman. But it could also secure a future for Ames. “I will send word after I arrive home and sort out my other business matters.”

  The man’s eyes drifted over Eli’s shoulder to the door beyond and then immediately hit the floor. “Lady Cartwright, it is a great—“ The man dropped into a deep bow. “I had not expected you.” Ames was stumbling over his every word.

  Elijah turned slowly, dreading the wisdom Sam’s sister was here to impart. She’d left the task to Cartwright the last time, but Eli certainly did not have luck on his side. Had the woman heard of the betting book wager or his and Sam’s outing to the gambling party? He deserved any scolding or outright rebuff she was here to convey.

  But the woman standing just inside the large storeroom was not Lady Cartwright.

  His heart stopped at the sight of her and then began again, an erratic beat that nearly brought him to his knees.

  If Ames were to work with Eli, his eyesight needed to be checked.

  There was not a speck of him that thought the woman was Lady Cartwright.

  Even across the large room, Eli knew Samantha—her air of confidence and grace. The tilt of her chin. The bold color selection of her deep blue gown. The way her hair swept over her shoulder. Suddenly, he remembered the opal earbobs in his pocket.

  “Ames,” Eli said, pulling his stare away from Sam long enough to bid the man to leave them. “Can you give Miss Samantha and me a moment of privacy?”

  His gaze snapped back over Eli’s shoulder. “My apologies, Miss Samantha…I did not…I mean to say—“

  “Do not fret,” Sam replied, moving farther into the room. “Even my siblings have a difficult time telling me and Jude apart…we are identical, after all.”

  “Almost identical, but vastly different in many ways.” Eli’s words were spoken softly. They were not likely heard by Sam.

  Ames quietly departed the room as Elijah watched Sam make her way toward him, stopping to examine objects along the way, her fingers trailing across an ancient tapestry from China. But she did not stop to admire the beauty of the woven fabric. She kept walking toward him, her eyes never leaving his.

  What was she doing here? It didn’t matter if she’d come to tell him all the ways she’d used him as a distraction, a means for escape from her townhouse, or that she never planned to see him again.

  Eli only wanted one last moment with her—to brand this imagine into his memory.

  The sway of her hips, the uplift of her coy smile, the delicacy of her touch.

  As she drew close, he noted her smile fade to unease. Her hand trembled where it touched a terracotta pot. Her footsteps faltered and then halted several feet from him as she searched his face, her eyes intense.

  Without further thought, he took the final steps to meet her, opening his arms.

  Elijah wasn’t sure how he knew she’d accept his embrace and all but collapse into his arms, but he did. And if he were being honest, he needed to hold her far more than she could possibly need his arms wrapped around her.

  Her warmth against him, her cheek resting against his chest as he tucked her head below his chin, told Elijah their time together had been born of true affection for one another.

  “Elijah, I—“

  “Shhhh,” he mumbled. He didn’t want any words, declarations, or apologies to taint this moment.

  However, Sam pulled back. “I have much I need to say. Things I should have said last night, instead of the awful lies.” Eli’s heart skidded to a stop and his breath hitched, waiting for her next words. “Nothing I said was the truth, Elijah, you must believe that.”

  But what she’d said was exactly as he’d expected—deep down, at least.

  “I was scared.”

  “Scared of what?” he asked.

  “Of letting you in, of letting anyone in.” She drew a deep breath before continuing. “Our connection was instant—our brief encounter on that deserted road—and so powerful I feared my affection for you must be stronger than yours for me. And then when you left Hollybrooke, I knew it to be true. I sp
ent those six weeks trying to forget you, to forget our time together, and believe another would kiss me the way you had. That I would find someone who would allow me to cry on their shoulder; who would know my past and not pass judgment on my future. But the attention of others was not what I needed, and never what I desired.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes open, and Elijah saw to her very soul. He understood her hurt. The pain she’d silently endured her entire life. The added injury he’d caused her.

  He needed to repair the damage he’d done—and do his best to wipe away the hurt others had inflicted upon her.

  “Then you appeared at the ball, and I thought I would make you pay for abandoning me in Derbyshire,” she whispered. “I thought I would use you until your company no longer interested me and then it would be my turn to abandon you. Send you back to Liverpool as hurt and rejected as I felt in Derbyshire.”

  “Then why are you here?” he asked. He wanted to hear her answer as much as he dreaded hearing her say the words aloud. She was here to reinforce, for a final time, that his affection for her would never be returned. Could he stand to hear the words? Would he survive…find a way to mend his heart…or at least collect some of the shards?

  If only he could piece back together Sam’s shattered soul, then his would mend along with hers.

  “I am here…” Her words trailed off as if she were losing her confidence. “I am here because I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment in Lord Cummings’ study when you found me with that most inappropriate book. When you did not laugh at me or think me childish or unworthy of knowing matters of the flesh.”

  “I think I have loved you since my carriage stopped alongside you during the storm.” It wasn’t a competition…who’d known they loved the other first. However, Elijah needed to say the words, make his own declaration before it was too late.

  “I thought I could ask any ridiculous thing of you and you would agree, which you have.” She took another step back, and Elijah’s arms fell to his sides. “It was unfair of me, selfish and petty. Especially with people gaining the notion you’d taken me as your mistress. It was not what I intended, though neither did I expect you to think of our arrangement as a courtship. For that I am truly sorry.”

  And now she was to tell him…for the final time, rip his still-beating heart from his chest and crush it under the heel of her boot.

  “With each outing, I found I looked forward to the next. Each time you accompanied me out, I fell more and more in love with you. I am unsure when I realized how much you loved me in return, but you proved it over and over. And it scared me. Not your love, but the thought that I continued to love you even after promising myself I wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt me again.”

  Elijah sensed there was more she wanted to say, that Sam still searched for the final words to tell him that though he loved her—and she loved him in return—it would not work. She could not remain at his side. That she did not have the amount of trust within her to believe Elijah would never walk away and leave her behind, brokenhearted.

  When she remained silent, he took hold of her hands and spoke from his heart…or what was left of it. “Sam, we are much alike. I have felt the same hurt, pain, and abandonment. I know the repercussions and anguish when you love another but that love is not returned. I know the loneliness and despair of not knowing what the future holds, or even if it holds anything of worth beyond the mundane day-to-day. I have not witnessed a prosaic moment since meeting you.” He paused to draw her closer, longing for an ounce of the confidence she normally wore like a shawl upon her shoulders. “Even when I returned to Liverpool, each moment was spent dreaming about returning to you. Each night spent dreaming of the way you’d feel in my arms once more. How I would show you that we were meant to be together—though, I had no right to expect that.”

  “However, it is what I led you to believe. What I unknowingly wanted myself.” She rose to her tiptoes, bringing her eyes in line with his and their mouths a mere inch apart. “I want you, Elijah. No matter my own insecurities, I trust you will never leave me. My love for you will have no end. You are the man I never dreamed I would make mine, never thought I deserved. You understand me far better than even my twin. It was only you who noticed my pain at Hollybrooke for what it truly was—a sense of great loss—and you soothed me, allowed me to cry, and truly heard every word I said.”

  “As I would every day until the end of time,” he mumbled. As I will, he corrected in his own thoughts.

  “Then I beg you, make me yours.” She leaned forward and set her lips to his, insistent and demanding yet unsure. Too soon, their lips parted. “Your enchanting marchioness.”

  “Say no more.” Elijah pulled her against him and swung her into his arms as he strode across the room toward the door. They needed a special license to wed—and privacy, though he was uncertain which they’d find first. But Eli spotted the tapestry she’d lovingly ran her fingers along as she’d walked to him earlier. He snagged the woven heirloom with one hand and spread it in an open area between the stacks of his grandfather’s most prized possessions.

  Gently, he laid Sam down, her auburn tresses cascading across the fabric.

  But he paused.

  She reached out toward him, her eyes hooded in lust—or was it love?—as she moaned.

  Elijah reached into his pocket and retrieved her opal earbobs.

  “My enchanting marchioness wears opals,” he commanded, handing them to her, and she quickly returned them to their rightful place at each ear.

  In that moment, surrounded by all his grandfather’s worldly treasures, Elijah knew the only treasure he’d ever need in his life was lying before him, her arms again reaching out to hold him.

  “I love you,” Sam whispered. “My sister may have stolen an earl, but I have enchanted my very own marquis.”

  Elijah had known since their first meeting that he loved Miss Samantha Pengarden. All that was left was to show her exactly how much. And he would start with her lips, continue down her neck, and lavish sweet love upon every inch of her body until there was no doubt remaining in her that Elijah loved her wholly, madly, and deeply. And would for the rest of eternity.

  Epilogue

  Sam tightened her hold on the railing, allowing the breeze sweeping the harbor to push her hair from her face and out behind her. The fresh air and scent of salt would be commonplace to her soon enough—as soon as her dear husband gave the word to pull anchor and set sail. The gentle sway of the water below her would take longer to acclimate to; however, she did not fear the change from solid ground to unpredictable, dark, rolling waves beneath her—not as long as Elijah Watson, the Marquis of Ridgefeld stood at her side.

  Husband.

  Her husband.

  Samantha Watson, the Marchioness of Ridgefeld.

  She should feel adrift shedding the final vestige of her youthful life.

  After a few years, would anyone remember her link to Craven House, or was it possible her past would fade as quickly as it had for Jude?

  Shouts from behind her had Sam releasing her told and turning to face a group of men charged with loading her trunks, packed for extended travel—with love—by Marce and Payton.

  “What can m’lady pack that be so bloody heavy?” A burly man strained under the weight of Sam’s newly acquired wardrobe: gowns of the finest silks and satins befitting a marchioness, gloves, kid boots, slippers, hats, underpinnings, and stockings. More clothes than she ever imagined would belong to her…and her alone. She would not be made to share these with her twin, though that did give her a twinge of loss. “I have half a mind ta let the trunk fall to the harbor, I do!”

  “It will be your head if Lady Ridgefeld’s trunk ends up submerged,” Ames shouted, trudging across the desk. The young man, eager for adventure, had gladly accepted the opportunity to travel with Sam and Elijah. Though he was not seasoned in travel—as Elijah said—he was fervent to please, which was worth a decade of experience, her new husband assured
her. “Now, take it below deck to my lady’s quarters, and if so much as a nick is found on her lovely trunks, I will report it to Lord Ridgefeld.”

  Both men sighed and shook their heads at Ames’s exaggerated ramblings.

  Ames met her smiling stare and nodded in her direction.

  No, she would not lack for entertainment or fine company in the months to come. Dare she admit that it might be far superior than any London ballroom? She’d even packed a deck of cards from Payton, in case Elijah was willing to participate in another game.

  “Are you certain you wish to see America?” Jude asked.

  Sam had almost forgotten her sister’s quiet presence next to her. “I am.”

  “It is a long, harrowing journey.”

  “That I know, dear sister,” she reassured her twin as she reached out to grasp Jude’s hands. “But Elijah received a letter from his mother and he has always told me that if she were to reach out, he would never turn his back on her.”

  “But you only just wed,” Jude sighed, blinking to hold in her tears. “Can you not settle in London or Liverpool first before departing England?”

  Ironic, all this time Sam had been worried about her sister abandoning her, forgetting their bond, because she married. And yet, Jude was as upset and forlorn as Sam had felt only a month prior. “Judith, I love you. Likely far more than I love myself. Elijah and I will return as quickly as the winds allow, hopefully with his mother in tow. I cannot deny him this. I love him too much. I want him to be happy for as long as it is in my power to do so.”

  “Just the sight of you, my enchanting marchioness“—Eli stepped forward, gaining a giggle from both women and made to take Jude’s hands, but quickly chuckled and turned to Sam—“would be enough to solidify my eternal happiness.”