“I assure you, this is very important.” He reached across the open space between them to take her hand, stopping her from toying with the seam of her dress. “It is important I show you this.”
The roads this late in the evening were dark and deserted, many hardworking men having already traveled home for the evening, leaving only the occasional unsavory type milling about the streets.
The carriage traveled from the well-cobbled roads of fashionable London to the ruddy, pockmarked, hard-packed dirt about the streets closer to the East End. The avenues widened to accommodate the transport of goods to and from the docked ships.
“We aren’t far now.” He still held her hand, for she hadn’t made any move to pull away, though she did keep her eyes trained on the window. He hoped this would assuage her mistrust of him, allow her to see him with open eyes as she had when they’d first met, before she’d accused him of using her—if only she would give him the opportunity.
Chapter Fifteen
No one had ever stood up for Aloria before. Never had anyone said that it is not right or correct or kind. Her parents had taken the stance of showering her with gifts after the incidents, for they were rarely present when Aloria was hurt or insulted. Others preferred to act as if it didn’t happen or they hadn’t heard, much as Delilah had done this evening.
She couldn’t bring herself to speak, but she’d relented and taken Marcus’s arm. Trusting him to take care of her.
She wasn’t ready to commit to anything more than what this moment held for them.
But Aloria would listen.
She owed him that much for doing what no one else had.
He’d seen below the surface; looked beyond what everyone else saw—an aging, portly girl who’d failed at marriage three times. Marriage? No, she hadn’t even made it that far. Her dowry and her father’s title had attracted several suitors, yet none had bothered to know her.
And now she sat in a darkened carriage, traveling through a seedy part of London toward a destination she could only guess at; with a man she’d longed to trust and believe in—yet, in the end, had deceived her like the rest.
She looked down at his hand, clasped with hers. A sense of security filled her. She remembered the same feeling taking hold the night they’d met—an overwhelming sense that this man, Marcus, would not do anything to deliberately hurt her.
“Never in all my years have I ever felt this safe with another,” she whispered. It was all she had, bringing together all the feelings she had for him, about him, and with him. Not once had she hesitated to enter his carriage—nor allow him entrance into her private chambers. “I still feel protected.”
She didn’t know what the words meant, to either of them, but they were the truest words she’d ever spoken to another.
“I will guard you, always.”
“Then why did you not tell me you sought business ties with my father?”
He sighed, but kept a firm hold of her hand, his fingers gently caressing her palm through her glove. “I hadn’t had the time.” He was not fool enough to play ignorant of what she spoke of. “I was more interested in knowing about you than sharing about myself. Besides, if you had known up front, would you have danced with me? Kissed me as you did?”
“I do not know,” she replied. “You took that decision from me.”
“And for that I am truly sorry. But,” he paused as if pondering his next words, “I am not, nor will I ever be, sorry for that night. Because I thought I needed something from you, it allowed me the opportunity to meet you—a woman whose outlook on life has changed my own.”
“How so?” She would keep asking questions as long as he was willing to answer them because after all she’d been through, Aloria needed to understand why he would do the same to her…lie to her as so many had. Was she not worth the truth? She’d never been given the chance to ask the rest of them, but with Marcus it was different. She needed to know why—but from there, she couldn’t fathom what was next.
Would they never see one another again, like Danderfur?
Would they move around society, ignoring one another, like Plumberly?
Or, would she have to see him every day, experience his happiness with another, like Canterbourne?
She knew now that she would not be able to bear seeing him with another, yet the thought of a life completely devoid of him was unthinkable and far worse.
“Why me?” It was the thing that weighed heaviest on her.
“Why not you would be a far more astute question.”
“Do not jest with me, Marcus,” she sighed. “Why me as opposed to Lady Gwendolyn? I hear she is very wealthy in her own right, and she is beautiful. If not her, why not another woman like her.”
She held her breath waiting for his response. It could change everything, or it could impact nothing—or both, all at the same time.
“Can I tell you a story?” he asked.
“I do not want a story…I want the truth.”
“You are right,” he said, although Aloria hadn’t any idea what she was right about. “Years ago, I courted Lady Gwen. As you’ve pointed out, she is exactly who society thinks is the best bride for me.”
Aloria had known there was something between the pair—but years ago? “She seems much attached to you still.”
“I cannot speak for her feelings or perceived attachments.”
She didn’t want him to be the same as all the rest. She silently willed him to continue, prayed her worst fears would not be recognized.
“Aloria, she abandoned me.” His voice pleaded with her to understand, but he was nowhere close to telling her everything. “When I learned of my dire financial position—the horrid mess my father had left me—everything in my world changed. I was no longer the heir to one of England’s wealthiest Dukedoms. Not even remotely.”
Her heart ached for him. Not because she forgave his actions toward her, but for the simple fact that she’d been where he was; she’d experienced betrayal that deep and cruel.
“In that time, my estates and the people who lived there and depended on me became my top priority, not courting Lady Gwen. I could no longer—with good conscience—give her expensive gifts of jewelry or fancy gowns. No, I sold many things from my home just to keep my people fed and warm.”
“I did not know.” She’d thought the worst of him without giving him a chance to explain. “You sought me out for the sake of others?” It seemed far less heartless of him to sacrifice his own future to improve that of those he cared about.
“At first, yes.”
“And then…what changed?”
“Meeting you.”
Aloria pulled her hand from his, her anger flaring once more. “Meeting me? How can our meeting change anything? You are still in need of my dowry—”
“Aloria, please listen,” he pleaded, reaching for her hand again. When she hid it in the folds of her skirt, he let his palm rest on her thigh. The mere touch sent bolts of lightning coursing through her. “I never wanted your dowry.”
“Oh, excuse me if I find that hard to believe.”
“I am not a man to take from another, I know how it feels—I could never do what my father did.” He sighed, allowing his hand to fall when she shifted away from him. “I only needed a bit of cargo area on one of Lord Garland’s ships—and with that, my fortune and future would have changed.”
“But by then you would already be attached to me—for life.” Aloria shook her head. She’d been unsure if learning of Marcus’s purpose had been a blessing or a curse—and she was still confused. “Then what did you plan to do with me? Leave me at one of your estates to while away the remainder of my life?”
“My one flaw—I hadn’t thought that far into the future.” He’d truly expected to find a simpering, pitiful creature who’d willingly run into the arms of any man who took any bit of notice. He’d been under the misguided impression that they’d be doing one another a favor by accepting the match.
“Just far enough
to see your fortune returned?”
“Not my fortune, but a newer, brighter future for every Wolfeton descendant and servant.”
“And now?” she asked. “You said things have changed. Is that why we are here?” She waved her hand toward the carriage window.
When she settled it on her lap again, it gave him the opportunity to grasp it once more. He leaned in close with his next words. “Why we are here is important, but everything changed for me long before this.” He nodded to the window.
He was confusing her more and more by the moment—she couldn’t help wondering if that were his plan.
“The moment I met you, I knew I had to have you, everything else be damned.” He was a hair’s breadth from her, and if she leaned just a bit forward, their lips would meet. But then he’d stop talking, and Aloria desperately needed to hear every word. “You are magnificent, charming, beautiful, witty, an amazing dancer…must I go on?”
She wanted him to go on. To never stop telling her all she longed to hear.
So, she’d continue to hear him talk. To do that, she leaned back in the velvet seat, ready to listen, and far enough away from his lips that the urge to kiss him receded—slightly.
“And why did you not tell me any of this before?” she asked.
“I tried, Lord how I tried, but you wouldn’t see me.”
She’d denied his calls several times—hoping he wouldn’t give up, would keep pursuing her. What had she hoped to gain from that? If he had continued to show up at her doorstep several times a day, for weeks on end, would she have believed his intentions were pure?
“You did not trust me enough to ask for my help—without your underhanded scheme—to gain my father’s consent?”
He sighed, leaning back against his seat. “I wish I had, but, unfortunately, women such as Lady Gwen came before you. How was I to know that you were a whole different woman than she?”
“You could have given me a chance.” Aloria crossed her arms, thinking how unfair she was being. She’d taken his actions at their worst because of her past experience with men, yet, she expected him not to do the same. “Where does this leave us and our relationship now?”
Chapter Sixteen
Instead of answering, Marcus looked out the window again, the disbelief and awe as fresh as it had been mere hours before. “We are almost there. May I show you?”
The carriage slowed as they turned from the main street onto a smaller drive that led toward the water. Creaking along, Marcus took joy in the shouts and merriment of the workers. Many yelled, with others shouting their reply. They were not angry calls or anxious shouts, but singing and much laughter.
Across from him, Aloria turned to her window once more. He knew exactly what she saw, and the wonder that filled her expression mirrored his from a few hours earlier. Hundreds of men, entering and exiting ships, their arms laden with crates, bags, and trunks.
“What is all this?” she asked in wonder. “I’ve always been told the dangers of the ports, drunken men and less than savory women, dangers of falling cargo and coiled ropes. But this—this appears straight from a fairytale.”
She stared into the distance, spotting one ship larger than the others, lit brighter than the stage at Covent Gardens. The gangplank, dock, and sides of the ship were illuminated by hundreds of lanterns.
“We are here,” he proclaimed. They’d stopped before the ship she’d been admiring.
“The Wolfeton Express,” she read aloud from the ship’s side.
Marcus marveled at the sprawling white letters, taking it all in once again. The name was ironic; for with its size, he suspected it was not built for speed. “Do you remember how you asked if someone had ever given me something...something so special that it would be a betrayal to ever not keep it?”
“Yes.” She’d meant the many gifts given to her by her father—his guilt inspired gifts. “But…”
“At that time, I hadn’t any notion of what you spoke,” he confided. “People had only ever taken from me, returning nothing. Will you come outside with me?”
The carriage door opened, and Marcus leapt out. For a moment, he feared she wouldn’t follow, but then she took his outstretched hand and he smiled, his body filled with hope.
“My lady.” He waited for her to step down.
Which Aloria did, his thrill contagious—and surprising him, she smiled in return.
At some point in their travels, his hair had come loose and now hung about his shoulders in disarray.
“We will return in a few moments, Mitton,” Marcus addressed the coachman, who nodded in answer.
“I will await you here,” he answered, looking about at the men rushing to and fro. “Can Anderson accompany you down the dock?”
“Thank you, but no.” At the coachman’s leery look, Marcus continued, “I am familiar with the captain.” He’d met the man not long ago, but knew the skipper ran a tight ship and that he and Aloria were safe on his dock.
“Right, my lord.”
Arm in arm, he and Aloria preceded toward the ship.
“It has your name.”
“It does.” They came to a stop before the vessel where it gently rocked in the water, both of them admiring the large craft.
“Why is that?” Taking her eyes off the grand ship before her, she focused on him. “And why bring me here?”
When he’d given the coachmen the directions, he hadn’t fully understood why he was bringing her here, or what he’d gain from it; but he needed to prove to her that he had other options—he didn’t need Lord Garland’s ships or her dowry. His financial windfall had come from the most unlikely of places.
Most importantly, with his fortune returned—or at least solidly on the way to recovery—he didn’t need her, but he still wanted her. Nothing had changed there.
“It is all mine. Well, a large majority of it.”
“I am happy for you,” she said skeptically. “I truly am, but again, why bring me here?”
“Because, there is no one I’d rather share this with.”
Her eyes snapped to his, and she stared so intently Marcus feared she’d see through to his very soul. “What does that mean?”
“It means, regardless of whether I am penniless and without resources—or wealthy beyond my wildest dreams—I will desire you,” Marcus paused, finding it hard to go on without collecting himself as his emotions threatened to overcome him. He hadn’t a single person to confide in or count on since he’d lost both his parents the day his mother died. “Nothing—none of this,” he waved his arm at the ship docked a few paces from them, “matters if I do not have you by my side to share it with.”
He couldn’t stop talking, telling her anything and everything—all of it true—to keep her here. “I cannot say what overtook me that moment in the hall when you about knocked me over, but I am forever changed, and incomplete without you. You showed me the simple pleasures in life with those brief moments in your chambers. And then, with Gwen and Plumberly, you were justified in your anger and hurt, but you did not allow their deplorable words and actions to ruin you.”
She looked away. “If I had done that, I would be like my mother and never leave our home.”
“I’ve let many things in my past—my mother’s death, my father’s withdrawal—ruin me, ruin my perception of the world, but not you!” He rubbed his palms together to still his need to reach for her. Many men had stopped their work and stared at them. “I crave you in my life. With you, I know I will not allow the harsh realities of this world to crush me.” He paused. “Aloria, please say something…”
She held his fate in her hands, and Marcus trusted her not to crush it.
And that’s when she did the one thing that broke his heart quicker than anything else imaginable.
Aloria turned and walked away.
And with her, she took everything he’d begun to imagine his future held; love, passion, contentment, family, and a home. Nowhere would be home without her.
Chapter Se
venteen
Aloria ran toward the waiting carriage, her skirts held high in her hands—but the space took a lifetime to cross. He’d said all she’d needed to hear, longed to hear…every word had been perfect.
And she’d started doubting every decision she’d made since they met.
There were limited things she knew for certain. One being that every man, with the exception of her father, lied. Secondly, her instinct was not to be trusted.
Yes, Marcus had been less than truthful with her, but she’d never once given him the chance to tell her a lie because she expected he would if asked.
Her instinct was telling her to forget all that came before and start fresh—for herself and for Marcus.
But Aloria didn’t know where or how to begin.
The thought of dispelling every hurt, every cruel word, every treachery imposed by others seemed more than daunting—a task too great to undertake on her own. But one that would have to be done for her to move forward and achieve any measure of happiness.
Was she strong enough to put all her faith in Marcus, and forget the many lies foiled on her in the past?
Could she or her parents survive another scandal if she chose the wrong path?
These were things she wasn’t strong enough to face on her own.
The tears came uncontrollably, blurring her vision. She couldn’t see the carriage any longer, but she kept moving, knowing it must be in this direction.
“Aloria,” Marcus’s frightened voice called. “Stop, please.”
The carriage should not be this dreadfully far, they’d only walked a few moments.
“You are crying!”
Yes, the hot tears flowed down her face, and Aloria hadn’t the urge to stop them. Maybe if she mourned long enough it would all be as if it never were. Every cruel word said to her, every deception played upon her, every pink gift given to her.
Gone.
As if it never were.
Every wrong done to her erased.
If she just ran far enough, hid well enough, sheltered herself from it all…
The Siege of Lady Aloria_World of de Wolfe Pack Page 10
