Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess

by K. J. Jackson

  His gaze hardened at her. Pity could not be a part of this.

  Killian pulled the curtains to his right open again, and forced his gaze onto the rolling green hills. At least she was attractive. For what he had to do tonight could have been much worse if Baron Halstead’s only daughter had been a dog. He had never been one to enjoy naïve virgins, but Reanna seemed responsive, and he would be able to make do with that.

  Killian’s body tensed as his mind wandered to the man he was bent on destroying. It was exactly where he needed his mind to go, and he let the anger course through him, turning his blood icy. When he knew he had sufficiently built a swell of rage, he looked across to the daughter of the baron, and his stomach churned.

  He could scarcely believe he had just been thinking that she was attractive. This loving fiancé farce he had been playing with her had begun to engrain into his actions, so much so that it had even seeped into his wayward thoughts. Justice. That was what he needed to concentrate on.

  Killian’s eyes shifted back out the carriage window. He was happy to allow thoughts of revenge rule his mind for the last part of the trip to Curplan Hall.

  What he didn’t choose were the nagging notions that ate away at the back of his head, though he attempted to dismiss them.

  The girl he married may not know what she was doing, but Killian certainly did, and that uncontrolled, lustful display they had just shared was not sitting well with him.

  ~~~

  The remainder of the ride to the estate was made in silence. Agonizing silence for Reanna. How had she managed to bungle things so quickly?

  It wasn’t until they turned up the drive to Curplan Hall, that Killian spoke to her again.

  Dusk had set, but the winding granite gravel drive of the estate was lit on both sides by torches, and Reanna’s first glimpse of the hall from afar took her breath away. It was just the two of them staying at Curplan tonight, but the entire structure was lit to the extent of a grand ball taking place.

  Reanna leaned closer to the window, not letting the far-off main building from her sight. “Killian, it is absolutely astounding.”

  “Thank you. I have worked hard to make it so.”

  “There is no doubt you have succeeded.”

  Halfway up the long drive, the coach passed the stables, and Reanna’s mouth dropped at the impossibly long structure that stretched outward from the gravel drive, the far side ending deep into the adjoining woods.

  “Incredible.” She leaned her head slightly out the open window, trying to count the openings into each of the stalls.

  Killian laughed. “These are only the main stables. There are three more on the grounds.”

  Reanna looked at him in awe, then sat back, still searching out the window. “Why so many? I had understood that this was among the smallest of your estates.”

  Killian shrugged. “Land-wise, it is, but Curplan is also the most frequented by society, so the house and stables are necessities in making sure all guests are well cared for. That includes, of course, their horses.” He leaned forward to look out the window. “I also keep a rather substantial collection of my own horses, some for racing, others merely for breeding and leisure.”

  Excitement filled Reanna. “Killian, you know I do not know how to ride. But that was by my father’s wishes. I have always truly wanted to learn. There has not been any time since I left Suffolk, and I regret not making it a priority. But my aunt demanded most of my time, and then the season began, and I met you…” She looked at him, voice trailing, and momentarily horrified at what she implied. “Not that I would trade a moment of time with you for the skill of riding a horse…”

  Killian chuckled. “Not to worry, your mastery of riding can be easily remedied. There is, actually, a new mare I just purchased, a docile creature that would be perfect for you to learn on.”

  “Thank you, it would be wonderful to learn.” Reanna relaxed, grateful he was so easygoing. Especially after his earlier clipped tone. Killian was so unlike the only other man she had ever really known—her father.

  She watched her husband pull on his gloves that had lain beside him for the entire ride, pleased that the silence had ended, and they were back to the easy camaraderie that flowed between them so effortlessly.

  The coach slowed to a stop in front of the house. Reanna could not tear her eyes away from the glowing structure. Three levels of grey brick were warmed by the orange-yellow glow from within, even shining out the glass dome protruding from the roof above the entrance.

  The footman let down the stairs of the coach, and, heart thudding, Reanna grabbed Killian’s hand and stepped to the cobbled walk that met the grey gravel. Rows of servants stood in lines descending down the steep stairs that led to the home. Killian placed her hand in the crook of his arm and gave her a quick wink. He turned to the long rows of servants and nodded to the man closest to them.

  The man turned to the lines of servants, voice booming. “I present to you, The Most Honourable, The Marchioness of Southfork.”

  Clapping reached Reanna’s ears, and she realized as Killian walked her forward that this entire display was for her. Embarrassed, and heart beating even more wildly at the hundred eyes looking at her, she swallowed and managed a hesitant smile. Of course Killian would go through this much trouble for her. He had told her time and again that he wanted to make her happy.

  They ascended the steep stone stairs, and Reanna was greeted with cavernous majesty as they stepped into the three-story entrance, capped off with a glass-domed ceiling. Bas-relief scenes of Greek mythology played out high on the walls, descending from the ceiling—from the flight of Icarus, to Prometheus and an eagle, to the nine muses. Mythology was the one thing her father had let her read past her studies, so Reanna instantly recognized all of the scenes.

  In front of them, twin staircases intertwined up three levels, and alcoves dotted each floor in symmetrical fashion. Reanna fought dizziness as she took in the magnitude of the entrance.

  After allowing her a few minutes, Killian saved her from her extensive gawking by pulling her attention to the rest of the house.

  “I know you must be tired, Reanna, but would you like a short tour of some house highlights before we dine?” There was pride in Killian’s voice, and Reanna was so excited, she couldn’t imagine saying no.

  “I would absolutely love a tour. And it can be just as long as you like.”

  She nearly giggled with delight at her surroundings. Nothing she had ever lived in was as grand as Killian’s home, and she fought again the urge to pinch herself. How had she been lucky enough to marry him? And this. This was opulence defined. Her father had been wealthy at one time, but he had never felt the need to spend much on their surroundings or homes. At the thought, guilt panged her. She was being entirely too disrespectful of her father’s choices.

  Killian led her from the foyer, and what should have taken an hour, ended up taking two because Reanna lingered in each and every room. By the time they had made it to the dining hall, Killian had to interrupt the tour so they could dine. Reanna insisted they do so quickly, so as to get back to the tour. After dining, he finished the tour with the arboretum, the ballroom, his study, and the library.

  The library held an exquisite collection of first editions. Two stories tall, it somehow managed to be cozy with richly lacquered wainscoting touching off from a burgundy-hued Persian rug that fit snugly to the room’s size. Navy blue velvet chairs spread casually throughout the room, and Reanna decided this was her favorite area in the house.

  Standing in the middle of the library, she spied several tiny figures from around the arm of a chair, and went to investigate. A chess set, with onyx and ivory pieces, greeted her. She picked up one of the figures and studied it, tracing a finger over the intricately carved face.

  “Do you play?” Killian asked.

  Reanna shook her head and put the piece gently back on the board. “No, I am afraid you can count chess among one of the many things that I wish I kn
ew how to do, but do not.” She smiled wryly. “You must be tired of hearing about all the things I do not know how to do.”

  Killian shrugged. “You are young—you have a long life to learn all the things you have yet to.”

  “I hope so.” She turned fully to him. “I feel as though I am just coming alive. There was so much to see and do in London, that I wonder now how I ever spent my days in Suffolk. And I am so looking forward to all that you will show me.”

  Reanna could have sworn Killian gave her the oddest look, but it was gone before she even really noticed it, much less figured it out. He smiled down at her. “Your optimism is charming.”

  He started to walk to the door of the library. “So that is the short tour, which I might add, has never been so long.”

  Reanna laughed and fell into step next to him.

  He looked down at her. “Are you ready to retire to our chambers, Lady Southfork?”

  Reanna froze, while Killian took several more steps to the door. She suddenly felt miniscule in the tall room. She hadn’t wanted to ask Killian, hadn’t wanted to mention again what had happened earlier in the carriage, but she had to. Terrified or not.

  He turned back to her, eyebrow arched at her stopping.

  “Killian, before we go upstairs…” Reanna twisted her intertwined hands in front of her.

  “Hesitant already, Reanna?”

  “It is just that…well…” Her eyes traveled to the servant positioned by the door.

  Killian inclined his head to the servant, who backed out of the room, closing the door. He stepped toward her. “What was it you wanted to say?”

  Her eyes shot to his, then just as quickly, flickered away as she blurted, “Do you want an annulment?”

  Killian stopped dead and stared down at her. “An annulment? Whatever are you thinking?”

  She made her eyes meet his. A hot flush crawled up her neck, invading her cheeks. “It is just that, well, I needed to ask you before we went upstairs and…”

  She couldn’t quite make her mouth form the words, so she skipped ahead. “On the ride here, I behaved…I behaved quite scandalously, and I am sure you had no idea that you were marrying such an improper woman. So I understand, under false pretenses and all, if you would like to disengage yourself from me. You are such a gentleman, and I, I am nothing more than a common…trollop.” She trailed off on the last word as tears choked her throat.

  Reanna dared a look at his face. He looked like he was about to laugh, then didn’t. Instead, he reached down and grabbed her chin, tilting her eyes up to his. “There will be no annulment.”

  “I knew you would understand.” Relief flooded Reanna and she let out the breath she had been holding. “It is just that I am so naïve, I did not know—I just was not sure how to react to your kisses. Thank you so much for understanding. I will conduct myself with much more propriety, now that I know the way of it. You really are my only guide. My aunt never spoke to me of such things, and my mother died when I was young.”

  A slow smile crept across Killian’s face, and Reanna took that as a good sign.

  “There is no need to worry, Reanna. Now, if you are ready, would you like to retire to our rooms?”

  ~~~

  Within an hour, Killian stood before the low fire burning in the wide stone fireplace. He sipped on his third glass of brandy. He wasn’t about to get drunk, but he had decided that a couple of glasses might ease the nagging thoughts he was having. Nagging thoughts planted by Aggie, scolding him time and again about destroying an innocent. He refused to put any credence to what Aggie believed, but that didn’t stop her voice from echoing in his mind.

  Killian’s eyes shifted from the fire to his empty glass, and he contemplated pouring another. A little extra fortitude against the ghost of Aggie’s badgering voice wouldn’t hurt. He just had to commit to this farce for one more night. And if he committed well enough, he might actually enjoy himself.

  If he couldn’t commit at this point, who knows what would happen. Reanna’s earlier talk of an annulment had shocked him, as he had thought he was playing his part of new husband quite well. But not well enough. Imagine, a woman giving him room to cry off because she was too forward. The irony of that would stick with him for quite some time.

  A sudden soft click behind him told him that his new bride had finally worked up the courage to enter his bedchamber. Not nearly as long as a virgin bride would have taken, he guessed.

  He turned around to see Reanna paused by the doorway, her hand still on the knob. She didn’t look scared, just uncertain…and beautiful. Her hair had been let down, the dark waves around her face a glorious onyx frame. The locks teased down the slope of her breasts to meet a silk night rail that was near transparent. Dark blue, it set off her creamy skin and brought out her blue eyes, even in the dim light of the fireplace.

  The silk flowed down her body, caressing her waist and hips before falling wispy to the floor. Killian’s eyes moved back to her face. Her lips looked full and ripe, while her cheeks had a slight flush, and he wondered if his unabashed scrutiny had caused it. Killian thanked himself for not having that last drink. He now realized he wanted to enjoy Reanna’s beauty as much as possible tonight.

  “Please, do come in, Reanna,” he said as he set his glass down.

  “I am not interrupting you?” She didn’t move from the connecting doorway leading to her rooms. “Because I can come back…”

  “Your timing is perfect. I was just hoping a vision such as you would walk from that room, and here you are. Consider me a lucky man.”

  She laughed as she stepped toward him. “Only if I am considered your even luckier wife.” She stopped in front of him. “I really do love your house, Killian. It is glorious and I can just imagine spending wonderful days here with you.”

  Killian tried not to stiffen at her words. “Thank you, but there is no need to think about anything tonight except the two of us.”

  “Oh, of course, I am sorry. I am always rushing ahead with things. Always wanting to get to the next place without enjoying where I am. I think it is because my life was so small before, that I now want to experience everything all at once so I don’t miss anything. My aunt always chided me for that, and with just cause, I suppose.”

  “I cannot imagine your aunt having to chide you about anything of importance.”

  “Oh, but she did. I have several terrible habits that she was forced to break me of.”

  He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Such as?”

  “Such as, I will not tell you even one of them, for fear I will destroy all the expectations you have of your new wife.”

  She smiled, and Killian thought it looked almost wicked. Reanna may be an innocent, but she was turning out to be no timid mouse.

  “Plus, since Aunt Maureen cured me of my worst ones, they do not warrant discussion.”

  “And the not-as-bad ones?”

  “Do not warrant discussion, either.” She smirked. “And I guess I should add ‘keeping secrets from husband’ to that list.”

  “They constitute a list, do they?”

  “I have worked very hard to keep my flaws hidden from you, and I will not exploit them now for your amusement. You will discover them someday, I am sure. But until such time, you have my permission to just believe I am flawless.”

  Her eyes were shining in merriment, and Killian was struck at the odd shade of blue they were—the light blue glass of a tropical sea. He had never noticed that before. He gave his mind a shake. Of course, he had seen that her eyes were blue before, he had even had his valet pick out a spectacular set of blue sapphire earrings and necklace for her as engagement gifts. Blue sapphires that, in no way, he now realized, matched the color of these eyes. These eyes that looked up at him full of happiness and—hell—love.

  He had best get to this.

  “Flawless it is, then,” Killian said, taking a step and closing the space between them.

  His hand went down to hers, and he pulled it up
ward, placing it gently upon his neck. Her fingers needed no encouragement, and they curled into his hair, nails skimming the skin. His forefinger glided along her arm, lifting to follow her collarbone, and slid up her graceful neck.

  His thumb stopped under her chin, and he could read the uncertainty in her face. Uncertainty that held fast, even as she tilted her head, curling into his hand. Killian descended gently, his lips light against hers.

  She froze, stiffening, and he pulled back, looking hard into her wide eyes. Eyes full of trepidation. He went down harder, more insistent as his mouth tasted hers, his lips willing her to give in, to mold with his own as they had in the carriage. But still, he could feel her holding back, fighting against reaction. He pulled back once more.

  “It is okay, Reanna, you can give yourself to me.”

  “But earlier…”

  “Pay no attention to that, Reanna.” His hand buried deep into her dark waves, and he set his lips close, but not touching, to hers. “Just open these.” He kissed her, long and soft. “Open these to me, and let come what comes.”

  He moved his lips to her neck. “Can you do that for me?”

  Her head fell back, and the slightest murmur of sound escaped as he circled her neck.

  “Yes, please yes, Killian, yes.”

  Killian pulled up slightly to look into her face. Her eyes were half closed, cheeks flushed, and errant tendrils framed her face, taking her out of the coifed perfection he was used to seeing her in. Shifting her into something he couldn’t describe, something wild and uninhibited.

  Something completely unexpected.

  Her hips were already pressing forward into him. She had surrendered to instinct. And her instinct was carnal. Staggered breath, ripe with passion, poured from her, and her lidded eyes caught his.

  Killian lost himself.

  He grabbed her lower back with his free hand as he brought his lips to hers. Predatory, he took her delicate skin hard with full intent on matching her raw sensuality.