Revealing A Marchioness's Heart (The Chronicles of Loyalty)

by Jessie Bennett

  “You should come with me,” Nora turned to Alexander, her eyes sparkling. “To the ball.”

  “Yes,” he was unsure where she was going with this, but was slightly alarmed when her eyes lit up. “You’ll need a guard.”

  “Not as a guard,” she countered and he reeled in shock.

  “No,” he growled at her. “No, and never ask that again.”

  “Alexander,” Ricardo was trying to calm the situation. “Miss Nora just wants a pretty date with noble status. I’m sure she’d pick me if you could hand me a title right now.”

  “As a guard,” he repeated. “Not as a marques.” Nora sighed, giving up on the matter. At least there would be that. She didn’t particularly like that she would be the only one in the ballroom with a bunch of guards following her every move. Then again, they would probably be the only people that she could truly trust in the crowded ballroom. She didn’t believe them, but she’d heard rumors that even the king plotted attacks on her in secret. She was the only real rival to the throne, despite not even close to being in line for it.

  Nora sometimes wanted to scream from the rooftops that this wasn’t what she wanted; that she had no interest in threatening the king or taking the throne. All she wanted was a normal life; a normal loving family and normal friends. She frankly didn’t care if she ever came to court again.

  “Fine,” she replied, glancing at the three of them. “But if we’re going to a ball tonight, we should at least clean up.”

  Alexander glanced at the sun, satisfied that the horses were now put away and cared for. It was mid afternoon, so Sutton was likely still in his office. His commander had a habit of coming in early and leaving late, as those were the times that he got the most work done.

  “We need to report to the commander first,” he said, already listing in the direction of the garrison. “And then we can do as you please.”

  “I’ll be in my rooms then,” Nora turned to go, feeling safer within the palace walls than she did in the woods.

  However, she didn’t get far, as Peter grabbed her shoulder gently. “Come on up and see Sutton,” he said, with no mistake in his meaning. It meant that she wasn’t supposed to be out of their sight, not even for a moment.

  Nora sighed, but turned to follow them up the wooden stairs to their commander’s office. “I’d just like to point out that I survived nineteen years in the country without anyone killing me,” Nora said as they went through the door. Ricardo gave her a smile at that, but she could practically see the thoughts turning in his head; the scars on her neck. She almost hadn’t survived.

  Sutton was standing by his desk, clearly about to leave when the four of them strolled in. At Nora’s presence, he bowed. “Milady,” he said. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  “The baron sent me packing?” Nora managed, to Sutton’s utter shock. He turned to Alexander, looking for a full report.

  The next five minutes were full of English too swift and technical for Nora to follow. From what she could gather, they appeared to be giving Sutton the full report of what had happened during the weeks they were gone. Leaning against the windowsill, she looked out into the garrison. On the grounds below, guards were wandering about, talking and laughing. It was like their own castle; their own family. Although it wasn’t a palace, she decided that it was a nice place to be. Alexander could have done worse when he ran away from the estate.

  “Milady,” Sutton bowed to her to get her attention, and her bright eyes caught his in the light with a smile. “This is agreeable to you, then?”

  “Hmm?” she colored, not knowing that she was supposed to have been listening.

  Ricardo cleared his throat, repeating it. “That we shall continue on continuous rotation duty as we did on the road, but remain at the palace until the king issues a new order.”

  “Yes,” she replied, in English. “But please…ladies?”

  “She wants ladies to attend to her,” Alexander said, after taking a moment to figure it out. “Nora’s ladies were forbidden to come with her on the ride, and she has been assigned none here.”

  Sutton considered the way around this. “You can properly screen some servants for her, I’m sure.”

  “Oh we can,” Ricardo gave him a grin that sent chills down his spine. The commander knew of Ricardo’s reputation with the ladies, and so long as it didn’t interfere with duty, he ignored it. However, he had also seen the way Ricardo looked at Nora, and he was wondering if this was going to be the start of a hurricane. These three were the best guards he had, but they came with so many issues. It was a sad day when he considered that Peter was the least troublesome one in the whole situation.

  “Good, then I will allow it,” Sutton finally said. “You are at the palace, so you may ease up duty if you see fit. Any of your colleagues can take a post for you, at your discretion,” he wanted to give them a break before the relationships became too intense. “Gentlemen, that is all. Milady,” he gave her a nod and they took that as their cue to leave.

  Nora led the way down the rickety wooden steps, thinking over the encounter. “So I can have ladies to help me lace my corset?” she asked with a grin as they reached the bottom. Ricardo grinned, leaning low to speak against her hair.

  “Was there something wrong with the way I did it, love?” he said enticingly.

  She felt a shiver of pleasure go down her spine and struggled to hide her smile. Being back at the palace with him around was going to be a lot more difficult than on the road. “Not at all,” she muttered back, as they took the back way that connected the garrison to the palace. She paused in the main hallway and raised her voice. “Are my rooms still the same then?”

  “Should be,” Alexander replied, looking around the palace, on guard even now. “If you want ladies, Nora, I’ll see if I can find a few who are trustworthy for the next few days.”

  “Yes, please,” she said, surprised that he was all too eager to scurry off. Alexander was uncomfortable at being in the palace, another place where he had lived his old life. He had to fight to push back a memory of walking through those grand doors with Mary on his arm. Therefore, he took his leave of their little group, trying not to show how his breath was coming in gasps. In the five years he had served as a guard, he had been back inside the palace a total of five times. Each time, it seemed to be more painful than the last.

  He had every intention of going to find her ladies eventually. At the moment, he wanted to clear his head, calm his breathing. He had various ways of doing this, and while most of the choices involved liquor, there were a few that didn’t.

  He chose a brisk walk around the streets of the city, his sword at his side and his hips still aching after the long horseback ride. If nothing else, the brisk air made him lose feeling in his face, and it eased the ache that was rising in his head.

  He certainly hadn’t been to a ball since he’d returned to London as a guard. However, Mary, Mary used to love the balls, the glamorous palace life. She delighted in finding dresses that drove him crazy, finding hairstyles that made him want to entwine his fingers in it. She would only need to look at him with her sultry eyes across the ballroom, and he would be instantly looking for ways to carry her somewhere secret. No other woman had that kind of power over him, nor were they likely to again. She had been his, his soul mate, his lover, his missing half, and he would always belong to her.

  He took a few deep breaths as he threaded his way through the crowd, trying not to hit anyone. He had lean muscle and his uniform was bulky, not making it easy to manipulate through the market square. He felt more in place here among the peasants and their anonymous faces than he ever had in the palace. Perhaps he was born to be among the masses, instead of above them.

  His thoughts were somewhere else, and he later admitted that he wasn’t paying as much attention as he should. His hand was loose on his sword, not tight at the hilt.

  He first felt it in his ear, a light warm breath. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he spun around
to empty air. However, the scent of perfume in the darkness of the alley was enough to send chills down his spine. The close alley seemed to go on forever and he couldn’t even figure out whether it opened on the other end. Anything could be hiding in there; responsible for that scent.

  It wafted through his nostrils and into the part of his brain that he had locked away. It was lilacs and lilies mixed together, a unique scent that used to drive him mad. His heart rate increased as he searched the darkness. It couldn’t be, that was impossible, not here and now. He was unafraid of what would happen to him if he was wrong. If this was a street thief, or a murderer, or anything of that nature, he held no fear in his eyes. Those things didn’t have him looking over his shoulder; didn’t cause him to sit up gasping in the middle of the night. He didn’t fear death; he didn’t fear pain. It was part of what made him such a good guard. The others went into battle with slight fear, with a bit of apprehension. However, he didn’t mind if his internal organs ever met a blade. It meant that he wouldn’t be haunted by his thoughts every day, and try to drown them every night.

  He searched the darkness again, his pupils dilated as his breathing increased. Carefully, he took one cautious and shaky step forward, and then another. His chest was drenched in sweat, and his lips were dry and cracked. He wondered whether he would stay on his feet much longer.

  He wasn’t typically a fainter, not any more than the next man who took horrible care of himself. The few times he had fainted at noon day, he had been horribly hung over or failed to eat for several days. Nevertheless, this time, it was the pure soberness of the moment, the fear, that threatened to take his consciousness.

  His foot cracked over something and he nearly jumped ten feet into the air. He licked his lips, his throat dry and parched as he spoke. He barely recognized his own voice, so unsure and soft. “Hello?” he asked, holding his breath. He put his hand up against the rough wall, not caring if he scraped it to hell. He took another step, and then out of the darkness came a figure.

  All dressed in white, it practically seemed to glow. The eyes were moving toward him, and he would know them anywhere. His grip on the wall tightened as he stayed rigid in place, afraid to move; afraid to even breathe.

  He waited until she was closer, practically touching him before he spoke again. He had feared and hoped for this moment since the day she’d left. “Mary?” he asked softly.

  “Hello, Alexander,” she said. “We have business to discuss.”

  6

  CHAPTER SIX

  He thought that he was going to faint. There were certainly a few seconds that were black for him, half grasping onto the wall and the other grasping onto her face. He didn’t even register what was happening before they were kissing. It was rough, passionate, and full of emotion; not all of it positive. Before he knew it, they both had salty tears streaming down their faces.

  She was alive. She was alive, and just as beautiful as the day that she ran away from him. Moreover, she was crying just as hard as he was, grasping for him.

  He could not forgive the things that she had done; could not forget the hurt that she had caused. He knew in his heart that there was no chance for a life together for them now. He had given up everything, and there was no way they could go back. She was a criminal and he hated her so much for the things she had done; the pain she had caused. He blamed her for every drunken night out, every foul tempered day, and every hope that had been splattered onto the cold pavement. He was too damaged, too far gone even to consider that things would be alright now.

  However, they had this moment, this time now, and he brought himself back to the present. “I hunted for you,” he managed. “Everywhere.”

  “I know,” she replied. “I was only a step or two ahead of you in the beginning.” She kissed him again and for a moment he was fooled into thinking that this was his lovely wife; the beautiful innocent woman he’d made a marchioness. This was Mary, the woman who’d caught his eye across the ballroom and never let it go.

  Nevertheless, this was also Mary, the criminal, the liar, the deceiver.

  “I can’t forget,” were the next words that tumbled out of his mouth. “All these years, all the moments that we lost…Mary, what you did…who you really are…”

  “Hush,” she put a finger to his lips, her eyes flashing. “Nor can I forget that you gave the guards permission to search our house when you found out what I had done. You practically pointed them in the right direction. You turned them on me, as you turned your soul on me.”

  “They had the best chance of finding you!” he cried, and she arched an eyebrow.

  “And if they had? You would have taken me back and lived happily ever after?”

  “No,” he admitted. “If they had, it would have been my duty to...” he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say that had they found her guilty, he would have to serve the laws of the land and execute her. He would have thrown himself off a cliff before doing that duty, the one piece of law that he couldn’t obey. If they had dragged her back to face her lord, then he would have been expected to draw the blade. It made him lightheaded just to think about it. “Where have you been?” he managed. “All these years?”

  She shrugged, her milky white shoulders deliciously bare. Mary had always been the most beautiful woman in the room; in any room. With milk white skin and dark hair, her eyes were piercing green through any soul. Her lips were plump and kissable, her high cheek bones giving off an air of nobility. Tall and slim, she came even with him, although she was far more fragile. Her bones were delicate, and when her hair was down, she looked ten years younger, almost as if she was a child. This was a woman capable of changing who she was in an instant. She had done it when she met him, and she’d clearly had no problem doing it again.

  “I see where you’ve been,” she said, looking him over like he was a disregarded piece of fruit. “You look a mess.”

  “Guards aren’t selected for their looks,” he said in his deep rumbling voice. He was trying to rein in his emotions, keep his tone steady. However, the power that this woman still had over him was astronomical. It was like she could snap her fingers and he would bark like a dog. It was the most dangerous thing he had ever encountered.

  “Yes, I know.” She gave him a little smile, but it was cool. “Although one has to wonder whether your current mission is for your looks or your …connections.”

  His heart sank into his stomach, like a cold block of ice. Of course, this was the reason that she had reappeared. He set his teeth in his jaw, not saying anything. Mary gave a little laugh, and her pearls of laughter still lit up the alley. She had a laugh that could make the hardest hearts smile.

  “You’re afraid,” she said, shaking her head. “You actually think that I would lay a hand on her. Do you not know me at all, Alexander?”

  “I do not,” he replied. “I know the illusion of you, the you that you chose to show me. I know the mystique, the magic and the perfumes. But you, Mary, I do not know at all. Not anymore.”

  Mary took a small step back from him, calculating that he needed space. He loosened his grip, letting her. Now, they were a foot apart, and the air between them felt ice cold.

  “I would never lay a hand on that child,” she replied. “Not for all the money and greatness in the world.”

  What she said gave him a clue as to how she had been surviving; how she could afford such a fancy dress. She had clearly had patrons, perhaps she frequented their beds. Perhaps she even enjoyed it, although it made his heart sink. In five years, there had been no other woman. Any lust he had was drowned with alcohol, and then another shot on top just in case he dared think about someone other than Mary. There had been a few before her, but the day he married her, he’d handed over his whole heart. There had been none after her, and there never would be again.

  “What are you proposing?” he asked, and she smirked.

  “A baron, Alexander? Really? A marchioness deserves better than that.”

  His lips curled. �
�How do you know where we took her?”

  “Let’s just say I have friends in high places,” she replied and it almost made him forget to breathe.

  “If those friends in high places know where she is, Mary, it’s a compromise of her safety. Who else would they have told, beside you? Don’t you see? You could kill her, just by knowing.”

  “Don’t you think I feel the guilt?” she raised her voice back at him, angrily. “Don’t you think, Alexander, that the second I heard about that fire, I nearly died? If we had not left that house empty for them to ride through, to hide out in, Nora would be unmarked. Her mother would still be at her side, to take care of her. Instead, she was left half disfigured and with neither parent, nor us to take care of her.”

  “You heard about the fire?” he snarled. “And you didn’t go to her?”

  “Neither did you,” she shot back icily and he relented. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes as he tried to still the drum beat in his head. His blood felt toxic, being with her again and holding in so much emotion. “Perhaps if one of us had, she wouldn’t be in such a state now.”

  “So what, you have a husband for her?” Alexander asked wearily. Mary was younger than him, he had aged worse than her, and it showed. Right now, he felt like twenty years had gone by rather than just five.

  “I can drum up a few ideas,” she replied. “Greater than a baron, that’s for sure.”

  “This is more than just the highest title,” he snapped at her. “She has to have safety and security, she needs to make an heir; she needs to be untouchable….”

  “I will raise her so high,” Mary snapped bitterly. “That neither of us will be able to touch her again. The two of us, Alexander, we are the poison, the toxins in her life…and to each other.”