The Marker

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by Connors, Meggan


  The man puffed out his chest like a peacock and preened for her. He was charming enough, but he seemed to think the world revolved around him, as if everyone wanted to know about his latest adventure, what he thought of the world. Lexie smiled faintly, and Nicholas’s equanimity returned at the sight of it—Wallingford obviously bored her as much as he irritated him.

  “Oh?” Nicholas asked, arching an eyebrow at Lexie.

  Lexie frowned, taking the punch from his hands, and Nicholas smiled. He had her trapped. She needed to speak or risk appearing impolite, and, regardless of her parentage, she was too well bred to do that. Nodding her thanks, she turned back to Wallingford. “And such a pleasure it has been, Mr. Wallingford. Please, feel free to continue your discussion with Mr. Wetherby. I dare say he will find it as fascinating as I have, and you two have quite a lot in common. Excuse me,” she said, running her hand across his back as she moved away from Wallingford.

  Nicholas fought to keep his eyes open as she touched him, his intent to force her to speak to him all but dying on his lips. Somehow, he even managed to keep his eyes on Wallingford, who had no problem with ogling the sway of Lexie’s bustle as she walked away. Lecher. Nicholas fought the urge to punch him in the face.

  Then the thought occurred to him—she’d just compared him to Wallingford. Right after she’d encouraged the man to expound on his latest exploits, which would be an exercise in tedium. The woman was trying to kill him by having George Wallingford bore him to death.

  Another gentleman quickly engaged her in conversation, and she glanced over her shoulder at Nicholas. He touched his fingers to his brow, a mocking salute, acknowledging she had bested him again.

  The smile she gave him set his heart on fire.

  “A charming girl, Wetherby. Where did you find her?” When Nicholas made a noncommittal grunt, preferring to focus on Lexie, Wallingford continued as if uninterrupted. “Where have you been keeping such a lovely creature? I wonder why I’ve not met her before.”

  “She’s a friend of the family, Wallingford, here for an extended visit,” Nicholas lied. “Besides, she’s very much engaged.”

  Wallingford laughed. “A family of fools, if they would let a girl like her spend time with a man like you. A more fool of a fiancé, to be sure. I would have married her before shipping her off to you.”

  Nicholas scowled at him, but he realized Wallingford wouldn’t be the only person speculating about Lexie’s relationship to him. He had earned his reputation, but for the first time in his life, he regretted it. “She’s a friend of the family,” he repeated. “I’m acting as her guardian.”

  Wallingford laughed and clapped him on the shoulder as if they were old mates. “I just bet you are, old chap. A girl like her doesn’t stand a chance.”

  From between clenched teeth, Nicholas ground out, “It’s not like that. I’m her guardian and nothing more.”

  Wallingford smiled and turned to regard Lexie. Nicholas followed his gaze, watching her as she chatted with a group of older gentleman. Younger gentlemen regarded her from a respectful distance, waiting for the opportunity to catch her alone. Nicholas already regretted bringing her: he liked having Lexie to himself, and sharing her, even for an evening, wreaked havoc on his nerves. Then Lexie turned, caught his eye over her shoulder and smiled.

  His chest tightened. As he stepped away from Wallingford, the other man said with sly humor, “You keep telling yourself that, Wetherby.”

  Nicholas ignored him.

  When he reached her, he took possession of Lexie’s hand and tucked it under his arm. She smiled up at him again, and his heart did a painful lurch. This woman had woven a spell over him if she could affect him in such a way. Once she’s talked to me, this will fade, he thought to himself ruefully. This is nothing. Nothing more than the thrill of the chase. Even as he told himself that, he knew it for a lie.

  Lexie had found herself in esteemed company. Her new friends were the governor himself, along with a senator and a congressman, and two of the wealthiest men in Sacramento. Hell, the woman surrounded herself with men who had an obscene amount of money and power. He wondered if she knew. He wondered if she would find herself a benefactor—a man to pay off her father’s debt, a man who wouldn’t blink an eye at throwing such a sum at him in exchange for her attention—if she did.

  He wondered if, perhaps, he was just such a man.

  The bell rang, calling them to dinner, pulling him out of his reverie. Finally, he would have her in his company for longer than a few minutes, and he sighed with relief. Patting her on the hand, he escorted her to the dining room. He noticed other men watching him, and had to admit he was delighted to have Lexie on his arm. No matter who else she talked to, she would be leaving with him tonight.

  Then they entered the dining room and his temper flared as he became aware of their seating arrangements. He wouldn’t have received worse seating arrangements if he had asked for them. Just two seats away from the governor, she was seated at the exact opposite end of the table from him. He wondered which of them had arranged for this. He suspected, judging from the jealous look the governor threw him, Lexie hadn’t been aware of any change in the seating. She could do worse than to be the mistress of the governor of California.

  His heart twisted at the thought.

  He gave her a jovial smile as he pulled back her chair and assisted her to her seat. Brooded when he found his own.

  As the first course was served, Lexie’s delicate laugh filtered through the hum of the conversation, and he peered down the length of the table to find her smiling at an older gentleman to her left. As if sensing his eyes upon her, she turned her gaze to him, regarded him with glittering black eyes, and then turned back to her companion, laughed again and touched him lightly on the hand.

  Good Lord, the woman was flirting. And not with him.

  Well, two could play at that game, and no one had more experience with flirting than Nicholas. He might not be able to get her to talk to him, but he would have Lexie jealous in a matter of minutes.

  Thus, their domestic battle progressed to the next level.

  The opposing ends of the table were by far the loudest. Men hung on Lexie’s every word, regaling her with stories of adventure both funny and daring, each man trying his best to extract a laugh from her. Nicholas, at the other end of the table, charmed the ladies with his own tales of adventure, and the women laughed often, touching him, batting their eyes at him. But even as the women warmed to him, he fought a stab of jealousy every time the sound of Lexie’s voice would reach his ears.

  By the meal’s end, Nicholas was in his element. Several glasses of good wine, fine food, and women had flocked to him. As they stood to go to the ballroom, Nicholas saw the governor tuck Lexie’s hand into the crook of his arm, clearly marking her for his—no matter that his wife stood nearby. By the time Nicholas made his way to the ballroom in an attempt to reclaim her, his sparkling scarlet jewel was already dancing with the governor.

  He watched her for a spell, declining to dance when the congressman’s daughter asked him to, then fetched himself a glass of whiskey and returned to the wall to watch Lexie. She danced beautifully, graceful and lithe as she twirled around the dance floor. Except for riding, he couldn’t think of a single thing she didn’t excel at. Not long after, a man sidled up next to him.

  “Who is she?”

  Nicholas glanced over to find James standing beside him. “Campbell,” he acknowledged. “That, my friend, is Alexandra Markland.”

  “As in your Markland?”

  “Hardly my Markland, but yes, that’s her.”

  James whistled, watching Lexie as she twirled around the dance floor. “She’s quite something.”

  Nicholas nodded. “Yep.”

  “It’s not a wonder you’re taken with her.”

  “I’m not taken with her, James.”

  “So that’s why you brought her here?”

  Frowning into his glass, Nicholas said darkly, “I’m not
entirely sure why I brought her here. The woman is as stubborn as an ox.”

  James laughed, but kept his eyes on the scarlet skirt spinning around the dance floor. “It was quite a show you two put on in the dining room. I’m wondering if you have any plans to take your act on the road. Join a troop of actors, or maybe the circus.”

  “You’re an ass. What are you doing here, anyway?”

  James gave him a bored little shrug. “The O’Connors couldn’t make it tonight, so they sent me to act in their stead.” James was related to Mrs. O’Connor—stepbrother or half-brother, he couldn’t recall which, but one look at her told him they weren’t full blood relations—a wealthy woman who now lived in San Francisco. Her husband had struck it rich in the silver mines of Virginia City, and later, they’d moved to San Francisco, a city built on Nevada’s bounty. They’d invested their money in shipping, and James had encouraged Nicholas to become part of their venture. They’d made him a fortune.

  “They’re in town?” Nicholas asked, a little surprised his partner hadn’t contacted him to let him know he planned to come to town. Or that James, at least, hadn’t told him.

  He wondered what else they’d neglected to tell him.

  “Mm. But you know O’Connor. If he thinks Claire won’t be welcome, he won’t go. So he sent me to act in his stead.” Mrs. O’Connor was native, at least in part, and a woman of such exquisite beauty that, between her looks and her money, the elite of San Francisco had welcomed her, though the same wasn’t necessarily true for the less cosmopolitan capital city.

  Nicholas made a noncommittal noise in response, locating Lexie as she sashayed around the dance floor, beautiful and perfect and so beyond his reach.

  “So, back to dinner. Were you trying to make her jealous?” James’s voice broke his reverie.

  “Hardly. She’s not my type. I simply brought the woman.”

  James grinned. “Well, if that’s the case...” With that, he left Nicholas’s side and approached Lexie.

  She turned her bright smile to James, and Nicholas had to suppress the fit of temper that came over him. Anyone but James—he could handle her flirting with anyone else. But not James, a man as close to him as his own brother had been, and a notorious rake. The idea galled him. Perhaps because he could see a woman like Lexie—beautiful, strong-willed, and smart—falling for a man like James, and could see just as clearly James falling for a woman like Lexie.

  But James’s idea to make Lexie jealous, now that wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe, if he evoked some emotion in her, she would speak to him again. Irritating her hadn’t worked, but he hadn’t tried jealousy. Yet.

  And again, their domestic battle was ratcheted up a notch.

  Glancing over her shoulder at the light touch on her arm, Lexie turned and caught her breath when she saw the man standing beside her. Silkily, he said, “May I cut in?”

  Her dance partner, whose name suddenly escaped her, scowled but stepped away. Hands out to Lexie, her new companion said, “I’m James Campbell.”

  “Lexie Markland,” she replied with a smile, accepting his hands.

  He pulled her into his arms, a little closer than the dance warranted, but Lexie found she liked it. A little taller than Nicholas, James had wavy reddish hair curling at his collar, and warm brown eyes. Fine lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes and creased his forehead, but Lexie decided even those suited him. With his longish hair and the vaguely wind-burned complexion, he could have played the part of the dashing pirate captain, stealing money and hearts along the way. He was handsome and obviously knew it. In many ways, he was very much like her employer. Intelligence gleamed in his warm brown eyes, and Lexie liked him immediately.

  And knew just as quickly he wasn’t for her.

  Oh, he had everything a girl wanted—humor, good looks, money. Lots of money, if the cut of his clothes was anything to go by. Lexie had to admit he was more attractive than most men. He was, quite possibly, the most attractive man in the room. Lexie wasn’t oblivious to the jealous looks the other women gave her as she twirled around the room in James’s arms. But he didn’t stir her blood like Nicholas did. She enjoyed talking to James, but she wondered if she would enjoy not talking to James as much as she enjoyed not talking to Nicholas, wondered if any other man would still be trying talk to her after weeks of silence. Wondered if he would play the game as Nicholas had.

  And suspected not, because no one would play the game as Nicholas had.

  That was, unfortunately, what made Nicholas so perfect.

  And so dangerous.

  A short time later, James excused himself to get refreshments. Lexie located Nicholas with her eyes, found him dancing with a pretty blonde who smiled up at him coquettishly, and Nicholas smiled in response. She felt a stab of jealousy she tried to suppress. She had no right to be jealous. He wasn’t hers, nor would he ever be. If she needed to flirt, she should flirt with James. It irritated Nicholas, and James wasn’t the danger to her heart Nicholas was.

  No one was.

  Nicholas caught her eye and winked at her, then caught his tongue between his teeth and smiled wickedly, tempting her to say something. His was an expression so blatantly seductive it set her skin on fire, and she had to turn her gaze away. When her eyes found him again, he had cast a similar look on his blond companion, and Lexie’s temper flared.

  “Having fun, dear?” said a voice dark with anger.

  Lexie whirled. And discovered the last person she wanted to see.

  Her fiancé.

  Chapter 7

  “Mr. Buchanan!” Lexie exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  Buchanan glared at her, his dark eyes glittering with anger. Just as she recalled, he was not an unattractive man, though he was substantially older than she: early fifties, with a shock of salt and pepper hair, bushy black brows, and strong features. His hand snaked out and took possession of her arm, pulling her onto the balcony off the ballroom and into the shadows. “I’m an invited guest, and a major contributor to the governor’s campaign. Perhaps a better question would be what are you doing here?”

  “Mr. Wetherby brought me.”

  Buchanan snarled, and for the first time since she’d agreed to marry him, Lexie was afraid. Every other time they’d met, he’d been cordial enough, though she knew him to be possessive. Maybe she had never given him a reason to be jealous. She never went out where she would meet eligible bachelors, and he had never seen her in the company of other men. “So I’ve heard. But why? If you’re serving in his house, why did he bring you? Where did you get those clothes? You’re dressed like a prostitute.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “This was the dress I had.”

  “And the jewels?” he demanded angrily. “Did you just have those lying around, too? Because if you did, I suspect your father would have gambled them away by now. You wouldn’t have come begging to me.”

  “Mr. Wetherby loaned these items to me. There’s nothing between us, I swear.”

  But judging from the expression on Buchanan’s face, he believed it to be a lie, and no matter what Lexie told herself, it was one. She couldn’t escape the fact that whatever was brewing between her and Nicholas was fierce and powerful. At least it was on her part.

  He grabbed her by the upper arms and forced her against the wall. Snarling, he said, “If that’s the case, why didn’t you let me pay your debt?”

  She fought to catch her breath. He’d asked a fair question. Why hadn’t she let him pay her debt when he’d offered? Was it really all about her pride, or was it something more? Taking a few steps backward, she said, “Because you’d done so much for us already. Because Mr. Wetherby won me, not a sum of money, and it was me he wanted.” A dark look crossed Buchanan’s face. Scared, she hastily added, “He hates my father. I guess taking me seemed to be the best way to punish him. There’s nothing between us. I swear. Why would I even want a man who’d do that?”

  She’d wondered about that herself, actually.

  He rega
rded her warily, his eyes roaming over her form. Looking for evidence of some sin. “I don’t know. But I’m warning you, if you come to me without your maidenhead, you will regret it. You still have it, do you not?”

  Cheeks burning, her hand came of up its own volition and she slapped him. Hard. Instantly regretting her actions, she still set her teeth and refused to apologize. Damn the man.

  How dare he ask such a question of her?

  “Swear it!” he demanded, grabbing both of her arms in a tight grasp and shaking her so hard her teeth clacked together and she tasted copper in her mouth.

  She cried out, and he shook her again, her head snapping back. “I swear! Please! You’re hurting me!”

  His grip only tightened. He crowded her body with his, forcing her hoop and bustle up, and wedged a knee between her thighs. His hands found her breast, clutching to the point of pain. “I should take it here.”

  “No, no, please,” she whimpered, turning her face away. But her fear and her anger only seemed to excite him, and he ground his body against hers. She put her hand between them to create some distance, but failed.

  He wrapped his arms around her, then kissed her on the mouth, bruising her lips. “This is your fault,” he whispered in a voice full of menace. “You dress like a whore and you’re going to get what you deserve. I just want to make sure I’m the one who takes it.” He kissed her again, harder. “You’re mine, remember? I’m the one who paid for you, not that pretty boy dandy or his friend. I don’t need to remind you of our bargain, do I?”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “I remember. I assure you, Mr. Buchanan, there is nothing between Nicholas and I.” Coldly polite every other time they’d met, she wasn’t acquainted with this vile side of his personality.

  A cold and loveless marriage she could handle. One marred by violence and jealousy? Not so much.

 

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