She turned Ivy toward the edge of the hill, aiming for the stables a distance off. Then, thinking the better of it, she turned to head back deeper into the far woods.
Apparently, a longer ride would do her good.
~~~
“I was just about to come looking for you, m’lady.” Weathered hands gripped the bridle of the panting horse. “Thought maybe you got yourself lost again.”
Reanna smiled down at the Holloton stable master. “Come now, Ike, that only happened twice. And that third time I was already set in the right direction before you found me. Besides, can you blame me for the size of this place?”
“No, no, I can’t m’lady. But you were out a wee bit longer than usual today.” He offered up his hand as Reanna lightly descended.
“Yes, well, it was such a beautiful day—cold, but the snow that fell last night just made the day come alive. It was a shame to leave it any earlier than I needed to.” She patted Ivy’s spotted white neck. The mare nudged Reanna’s shoulder, so she moved her hand to the horse’s nose. “And Ivy did not seem to mind one bit. I think she was happy to not be captured inside today, as well.”
“She loves you riding her, that’s for sure. You’ve been an excellent student, m’lady, most certainly the best female rider I’ve seen in a long time, even what with you just learning and all.”
“Ike, stop—no need to flatter me. There is still so much more I have to learn.”
“Actually, m’lady, there ain’t. The only thing you need now is practice, which you do too much of as it is.”
Reanna followed Ike as he led Ivy into the stables, and stopped at the third stall in to rub the nose of Thor, a young black stallion that was growing quickly and would eventually be a magnificent creature. He reveled in Reanna’s warm hand.
“Come now, I must have something more to learn from you. You have been an excellent teacher, and your patience astounds me.” Reanna winked at Ike, whose due blush looked odd on his lined, leathered face. “You could always teach me to ride astride.”
Ike laughed, the sound booming through the stables. “The devil in you, m’lady. I’ll not be the one to corrupt you. You’ll have to find that somewhere else. I wouldn’t even want to imagine his lordship’s face were he to learn you could ride astride.”
It slipped out between them, hanging in the air for a moment. It had been an unspoken rule amongst the staff at Holloton to not mention the marquess. She knew they did it out of respect for her, and she had been grateful for their kindness.
Ike’s face froze the second he realized who he had mentioned, not sure how to proceed.
Reanna forced a laugh. “Come now, I highly doubt Lord Southfork will be finding out anything of my activities for a long time.” Much less care, she added silently.
Ike gave an awkward smile, clearly thankful for Reanna’s transition past his gaffe. “Still, m’lady, you will remain uncorrupt if I have anything to say about it.”
“And you must stand by your convictions, I imagine.” The twinkle was back in Reanna’s eye. “Fine then, you may remain a gentleman.”
She curtseyed before him.
“Very kind, m’lady.”
Reanna started to exit the stables, then abruptly spun around. “Ike, I have been meaning to ask—does anyone on staff play chess?”
“Chess, m’lady?” His eyebrows raised in bewilderment.
“Yes, chess.”
“Well, actually, Ruperton and Evans have had a bit of an ongoing feud over the board for the past six years.”
“Really?” A slow smile curved onto her lips. “Six years? Does anyone else ever play either of them?”
“Nope, and no one wants to, I wager. They’re both such sore losers, I can’t imagine anyone willing to dive into that sordid game with them.”
“Thank you, Ike. You have given me a grand idea that has more than made my day.”
“I have?” The earlier blush reappeared. “You’re welcome, m’lady.”
Reanna could hardly contain the skip in her step as she made her way out of the stables and up the snowy hillside to the main house.
After darkness had fallen and dinner passed, Reanna leaned back in the wingback chair angled close to the fire in the library. She stared down at the low table in front of her. Gleaming in the light from the flames, the finely crafted gold and silver pieces sat evenly on the heavy checkered board. She had gotten a few curious glances when she requested the set be brought in from the study, but she chose to ignore the looks.
“Samuelson, could you please find Ruperton and convey my request that he join me?” Reanna asked the footman standing by the door.
Samuelson nodded and left the room. Moments later, Ruperton arrived, starched and detached as always. “You requested my presence, my lady?”
“Yes, Ruperton, I did. I will get right to the point. I would like you to teach me to play chess.”
Reanna almost laughed at the look that overtook the steward’s face. Incredulous, and Reanna even thought she saw him sway a bit.
His face turned white. “Chess, my lady?”
“I am sorry, Ruperton. I did not mean to distress you.” It suddenly occurred to Reanna why Ruperton reacted so, and she sank backward into the chair. “I understand chess can be a long endeavor, and you may not wish to spend that much time with me. I am not very interesting, I know. Forgive me for bothering you about it.”
“Nonsense, my lady. Everyone is interesting. You just have to discover what interests you first.” He stepped closer and turned the empty matching wingback chair to the chessboard. “My reaction was not what you expected, my lady. I apologize.”
Reanna eyed him, then sat straight up once more, hands clasped in her lap. “So yes, chess. I would like to learn the game, and I understand that with your vast experience, you would be an excellent teacher.”
His eyes shifted nervously back and forth from the gleaming chess pieces to her. “I am afraid I could not, my lady. It would not be at all proper for me—”
“You are right, Ruperton, it would not be at all proper. Regardless, I would like to learn.”
“But Lord Southfork…” The steward glanced about the room, obviously praying for an escape of some sort, or maybe just the floor to swallow him up. He looked back at the marchioness. “He would not look lightly upon such transgressions.”
“His lordship is not present and is not likely to be so for some time,” she said with a bright smile on her face. “So I can see no harm in it. But if you feel that strongly about crossing the lines of propriety, even by my direct request, I shall have to make due with learning from Evans, whom I also intend to ask to tutor me. I had hoped to learn from both of you, on alternate nights, but I am sure Evans will be more than willing to teach me solo.”
Ruperton’s ire visibly pricked at the mention of Reanna learning from Evans. “You will be asking Evans?”
“Yes, I thought it best and less time consuming for both of you if I were to split up the instruction.”
“That is very…thoughtful of you, my lady.”
Reanna could sense victory in her grasp. “So you will teach me?” She offered him what she hoped was her most charming smile.
Ruperton paused for an instant, then, decision made, he straightened up to his full taut self. “Yes, my lady, I will be happy to teach you, if you truly believe it is not too great a transgression.”
Reanna beamed. “I do. Please, I would like to begin tonight, if that is all right with you.” She motioned to the chair across from her. “I believe the board is set up properly, but I could very well be mistaken.”
A quick glance at the board, and Ruperton shook his head slightly.
“It is wrong, then?”
“I am afraid it is quite jumbled, my lady.” He sat on the edge of the chair, moving pieces on the board. “But easily remedied. You are a smart whip, my lady. I will have you in victory over Evans in no time.”
{ Chapter 6 }
It was what Killian had been wai
ting for.
The message had finally come from Baron Halstead, a fortnight prior, requesting a meeting in a week.
Killian had made him wait an additional week.
He was finally coming to beg for money.
Sitting behind the wide walnut desk in his London study, Killian straightened the pistol on the dark wood, making sure the butt end kissed the outer edge of the desk, and that the barrel of the gun was pointed directly at his own chest. He had made Halstead wait for the past hour and a half in his drawing room, and when Ludwig reported Halstead was sufficiently agitated beyond patience, Killian allowed Ludwig to escort him in.
Ludwig closed the study door, leaving Halstead standing, still angry in his agitation. Halstead took another step in, and Killian was immediately struck at how small he was—and old. His only memory of the man had been from when Killian was a child peeking through half-closed doors.
Killian leaned back in his chair, motioning to the chair opposite him. “Baron Halstead, please come in, sit.”
Halstead moved forward, his hawk nose tilted down at Killian, posturing a message of disgust at his disrespectful treatment thus far. His eyes were the same ice-blue color as Reanna’s. That, Killian did not remember about the man.
“Lord Southfork.” Halstead gave a curt nod as he sat, wiry on the edge of the plain wooden chair. “Where is my dear daughter? I did expect to see her here.”
“She is not in residence.”
“No?”
“She is at one of my country estates at the moment.”
“That is unfortunate. I had hoped to speak to her of my regret at having to miss the nuptials. I presume the affair went well?”
“It did. Everything that was required to be taken care of, was.”
Halstead cocked his head at the peculiar comment, but said nothing.
Killian leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he clasped his hands under his chin. “I have very little time today, Halstead. What is it you wanted to see me about?”
Halstead bristled, then sighed. “You know, of course, about my ruin. It is why I stayed my distance from the wedding. I wanted to afford my daughter and you a scandal-free engagement. Especially after your understanding about her lack of dowry.”
“It was my pleasure.”
He smiled. The opening he was hoping for. “She pleases you, then?”
“She has pleased me, yes.”
“Excellent. I had hoped yours was to be a good match. I am glad you could see past the financial aspects of the marriage business.”
“I did want to marry her enough to overlook a penniless father, yes.”
Halstead cleared his throat. “And that is what I had hoped to speak to you about. My ruin was through a series of unfortunate incidents that were beyond my control. But I have some new investments lined up that would get me on the track back to respectability. These are delicate matters, as we are now related, but I am sure my daughter would want that for me, for my name not to taint yours. All I need is a sizable investment—not too large, I assure you—and I am sure this venture will play out.”
“So, you thought to come to me, naturally.” Killian tapped his finger on his chin. “Which brings me to the suspicion that you were whoring out your daughter when you sent her to London for the season.”
“What? Whoring? Bloody rude, young man. I would not whore out my own daughter.”
Killian’s brows arched. “So it is just mothers that you whore out?”
“What?” Halstead sputtered. “What is this mad talk, Southfork?”
“My parents. You knew them.” Killian leaned back in his chair once more, arms crossed over his chest.
“I did. Vaguely. Although I remember little of them.” Halstead’s wrinkled eyes twitched around the room, landing above Killian’s head at a line of books. “That was a long time ago.”
“It was. But do you think I was too young at the time to understand what you did to my mother? What you did to my father? Or maybe you just hope it.”
“Whatever you may think happened, Southfork, I can assure you—”
“No. I can assure you. I was not too young. I understood everything you did. Everything.”
“This is a misunderstanding, your father—”
Killian’s hand slammed onto the desk. “Do not speak of my father. There is no misunderstanding. You determined your fate long ago, Halstead, when you destroyed my world.”
“But…but my daughter—you knew about me and you married her?”
Killian smiled. “She was your last chance. The last thing you could whore out. I naturally could not have that, not after all the work I put into ruining you.”
“You? What do you mean you ruined me?” His eyes narrowed at Killian. He was finally beginning to understand that he was sitting across from his own destruction.
“Your companies, your holdings, did you not wonder how all of them could turn so sour, one after another?”
“But you? How? We had no dealings. There were never any like investments.”
“Not directly. But I have many connections. And there was great profit to be made by others at each of your failed investments.”
“Inconceivable, man—do you have any idea how much wealth disappeared with those investments?”
“Yes, I do. I kept very close tabs on your outstanding debts.” Killian stood, palms flat on the desk, leaning toward the baron. “And apparently, you had no idea the Duke of Dunway and I are close. Very close.”
Halstead visibly paled. “The ship.”
“Yes. You had everything riding on that ship. It was near comical how many debts you had against that cargo.”
“You are mad, man.” Halstead bolted upright. “That ship held a fortune. A fortune at the bottom of the ocean. Do you know how much money was lost?”
“I do, and better than even you. My stake was much greater in those holdings, and I lost ten times the amount you did.” Killian sat, relaxed. “But unlike you, I could lose the money. You could not, and that was all that mattered. In fact, the goods on my next ship to the isles brought in double the revenue.”
Halstead’s blanched face turned red, fury overtaking him. His hand flickered toward the pistol on the desk, fingers shaking in rage.
Killian willed him, desperately, to pick it up. To lunge and snatch it.
To give Killian the reason he needed to kill the bastard.
His hand a hair away from the silver of the pistol, Halstead stopped, glaring at Killian. “My daughter. She would not want this for me. I am her father. You cannot do this to her. You cannot destroy your father-in-law.”
“I can. She means, quite frankly, less than nothing to me.” He waved his hand flippantly. “But do not think to try to remove her from the marriage. She is probably already with babe—it cannot be annulled. Your last option, whoring out your daughter, has failed you, Halstead.”
Killian stood, using his height to intimidate as he glared down at Halstead. “Go back to the hole you crawled from, Halstead. Go back there and die.”
Halstead leaned forward, his hand twitching above the pistol once more, but then he stood and spun, stalking to the door. Halfway through the entrance, he stopped, turning back to Killian, his voice sinister.
“Do not get comfortable in your revenge, Southfork. You think you destroyed me. You have not. And the lesson of revenge will be returned upon you tenfold. I will crush you, Southfork. You will not see it approaching, but I will wait, I will rebuild, and I will destroy you, just as I did your father. You are as weak as he was. I can already see that in you.”
He disappeared through the entrance at his last word, and within seconds, Killian could hear the front door open and close.
Killian dropped heavy into his chair, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.
Aside from Halstead not grabbing the gun, it had gone as Killian had laid out, perfectly.
His revenge was complete, and he waited for peace to wash over him.
After te
n minutes, his eyes dropped to the tall evergreen hedges outside his window. He sat for two hours, staring out the window, waiting.
Where was the peace?
~~~
Reanna took a deep breath, filling her lungs to capacity. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. Finally, after days of being trapped inside by blustery winds and chilling snow, the skies had cleared and the world was fresh.
She wasted no time in getting Ivy out for a long ride and soon found herself in the rarely-used southwest corner of the estate, nudging Ivy down a narrow trail that had frost-laden trees brushing her wool cloak. Out of nowhere, her horse reared.
Grasping the reins, trying to keep Ivy under control, Reanna at first didn’t see the small boy crouched before her. Ivy spun in the path, and Reanna caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. But by the time she got the horse settled, the boy was gone from the path.
“Hello?” she said softly, feeling foolish for she was not quite sure if she had really seen a child. It could have very easily been an animal she saw that had frightened Ivy. “Hello?” she repeated, a bit louder.
Just as she was about to move on, she heard rustling.
“Hello? I can hear you. Come out.”
Ever so slowly, a scrawny little boy stepped from the snowy brush beside the path.
“Please, ma’am, please don’t tell.”
Reanna immediately recognized what the boy was talking about, for in one tightly clutched hand, was a dead rabbit clearly taken from a trap. He was poaching.
“Please, ma’am, please. I don’t want to. It’s just my brothers and sisters—they need it so. Please, ma’am, please don’t tell.”
Reanna had never seen a child so distraught, yet so determined at the same time. The boy couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, from what Reanna could tell through the dirt all over him. She had never had much contact with children—she had been an only child herself, and only occasionally did she see any of the servants’ babes. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of this small creature pleading with her.
“Just to be sure, who shall I not tell, young man?”
“The gamekeeper, ma’am. Or his lordship. I know poachin’s a crime, ma’am, but my family, they are little, you see.” He fidgeted at the edge of the trail, looking over his shoulder.
Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess Page 6
