The couple glanced at each other once more. Mr. Wortson’s jaw line began to twitch. He looked back at Reanna.
“I’m afraid my wife doesn’t care for me to talk about the boys. Sad memories and all. I’m sure you understand.”
Guilt was plain on his face.
Reanna turned Ivy so she could face them head on. “Actually, Mr. Wortson, I must admit I do not. I do not understand—if I have this correct—‘how the good lord did not see fit to make them strong enough to accept their punishment when they were bad.’”
Mr. Wortson dropped his wife’s hand, and his fingers fidgeted on the leather reins. He tried the confused smile again. “What are you talking about?”
“I think you know exactly what I am talking about, Mr. Wortson.”
Reanna’s eyes locked with his for a tense minute.
He sputtered, and his face bloated pink. “You twit. You have no right to judge how we discipline our boys. Children must respect their parents.”
It was the admission Reanna needed. She breathed an inward sigh of relief while trying to keep her anger controlled. “You, Mr. Wortson, have a warped sense of entitlement. I cannot even begin to imagine the monster that you are, but rest assured, you will not have Albert, nor any other orphan within my grasp.”
“You can’t do that—you gave us the boy.”
“Yes, and I am taking him back. Remove yourself from my property, Mr. Wortson, and never set foot on it again. If you so much as look at one of these children, my husband will not think twice on crushing you.”
The man’s face turned cruel, and a forced laugh came out. “I doubt that. From what people say, his lordship don’t care much for you, or he wouldn’t have gotten rid of you up in these parts.”
Reanna’s grip on Ivy’s reins tightened. So much so that the horse couldn’t help but rear. Grabbing Albert tightly, she regained control over the animal. Ivy’s feet stilled, and Reanna looked back to the Wortsons, glaring down her nose at them as much as she could.
She didn’t allow the slightest glimmer of emotion to show. “Whether or not my husband cares for me is of no concern to this situation, Mr. Wortson. Be assured that if you disobey my wishes—if you dare to come near any of these children—my husband will perceive that as a slight on the family name, not merely as a slight on his wife. And that, I can guarantee, he will not condone.” She leaned forward over Albert, her next words biting and deliberate. “Would you like to test my statement, or do you understand me?”
Mrs. Wortson had begun to cry. A snorting but soft melody. Mr. Wortson finally looked away from Reanna. Silently, red rage shaking his entire being, he shifted his body to face the front of the wagon, and whipped the reins to move his horse.
Reanna didn’t move until the wagon was out of sight.
“We going back, Lady Ana?” Albert was one of the children who had had a hard time wrapping his mouth around the name “Southfork” and had dubbed her Lady Ana.
“Yes, we are, Albert. You will get to be with your brothers and sisters again, and you will play like always.”
He nodded. He was not a wordy one.
Reanna turned the horse and they slowly made their way back to the cottage.
“How come you shaking, Lady Ana?”
She looked down at his head. She hadn’t even realized she was. Even though it did little to cease the shake, she took a deep breath before answering. “Because I just learned a very important lesson, Albert.” She kissed the top of his curly, brown hair. “One that makes me question what I can do.”
Disgusted, not only with the Wortsons, but also with herself, Reanna continued back to the cottage.
Miss Melby, Joan, Thomas, and Ike, confused and with rifle, were agitated and waiting for Reanna outside the cottage as she rode up with Albert.
“Good, m’lady.” Ike propped the rifle back over his shoulder. “I was just trying to make sense of this story and come after you. But you are here. Unharmed? You are ghost white.”
“Yes. I am fine. Thank you.”
“The boy?”
Reanna squeezed him. “Are you all right, Albert?”
“Yes.”
Reanna scanned the crew of them. She knew why Ike was here, but Miss Melby rarely left the main house to come to the cottage. Concern gripped Reanna.
Reanna handed Albert down to a confused Joan.
“M’lady, Albert, why is he back?” Joan asked. “Thomas was rambling on something about the Wortsons, but I couldn’t make much sense of it.”
Reanna grabbed Ike’s hand and dismounted. “It is a long story, Joan, and I will tell you in a bit. The short of it is that I was naïve, apparently like always, and stupid because of it. But it will not happen again.” She whipped to Miss Melby. “What is wrong?”
“Oh, my lady, no need to frown. Nothing is wrong. In fact, some things are going to get right around here, I suspect.”
“Now you are making no sense. Whatever are you talking about?”
“He’s coming. He just sent word.”
A glimmer of hope flamed up in the pit of Reanna’s stomach, but her next words were cautious. “Who is coming?”
Miss Melby’s eyes went wide in excitement. “The marquess. He will be here in fortnight.”
{ Chapter 7 }
Reanna jumped at the sound of another door opening. All day long, Killian’s trunks had been arriving, and it was driving Reanna out of her mind. At each clunk of a door, she would take great pains to compose herself, smooth her hair and the soft yellow silk dress that she had chosen specifically because it cut nicely across her bosom. Each time, she would be disappointed when Killian didn’t appear. But the first footman to arrive this morning had assured Ruperton that lord Southfork was indeed, arriving today.
Reanna shuffled slowly to the left of the fireplace in the middle of the study, eyes fixated on the chess set she’d had set up for Killian’s arrival.
“There you are, my lady,” Evans said as he entered the study. “You have been the devil to keep track of today, flying from room to room as you have. You must be assured that all is in order for the marquess’s arrival.”
“I know it is, Evans. I just cannot seem to help but worry, though. I have not seen his lordship in such a time, and everything must be perfect.” She shuffled back to the right of the fireplace. “Speaking of which, do you think the chess set should be placed more to the right of the hearth? I know that is where I had it this morning, but I am debating whether it was a mistake to move it.”
“Quite honestly, my lady, I think the marquess will be impressed by your play, whether you are sitting to the left of the fire, to the right of the fire, or in a bog.”
That squeezed a smile out of Reanna. “Do you really think?”
“Having been one of the fortunate ones to tutor you on the game, I can say yes, your play is impressive. Indeed, both Ruperton and I have been plotting against you since the last time you trounced each of us in our matches.”
“I am sure it was just luck.”
Evans cleared his throat. “Luck, my lady?”
Reanna laughed as she rolled her eyes. “Yes, Evans, I know: ‘there is no such thing as luck in chess.’” She rolled off the mantra that had been repeated over and over to her during instruction. “It is each your own fault, you realize. You both taught me every trick you had to beat the other, which only ended up giving me the advantage against each of you.”
“We still have a few tricks left, my lady.”
Reanna smiled at the butler. “I cannot wait to see what they are.”
A door opened and closed down the hall, and Reanna shot Evans a quizzical look.
“I am afraid not yet, my lady. Which is why I was searching for you.”
“Is he not coming today?” Reanna didn’t think she could take another day as nerve racking as this one had been.
“Actually, we just received word that he should be arriving close to an hour from now.”
Reanna exhaled, relieved, and glanced out
the window. “I had not realized it was getting dark. Maybe evening wear is in order…please excuse me, Evans.”
“My lady.” He inclined his head to her.
Reanna charged out of the study and up into her rooms. Miss Melby had been relaxing on a plush side chair and bolted upright as Reanna nearly ran into her.
“What now? What insane nugget could you possibly have rolling in that head now, my lady? You’ve already changed outfits three times today, and you can’t possibly be thinking of changing again…”
Reanna laid the most charming smile she could muster onto Miss Melby. “It is getting dark out, and by the time his lordship arrives, which should be an hour according to Evans, evening dress will be appropriate, do you not think?”
Miss Melby heaved out a sigh for effect, and pushed her plump form out of the chair. “I am afraid you have a point. What will it be—the one you had picked out for tonight, or another?”
“The one I had chosen will be fine.”
Within moments, Reanna was down to her stockings, chemise and short stays, waiting for Miss Melby to ready the gown to step into. Miss Melby wouldn’t risk the mounds of fabric going over Reanna’s hair, not after the amount of time she had spent getting it perfect, the dark locks twisted and plaited in intricate patterns along her head.
Miss Melby held the delicate blue silk as Reanna stepped within the folds and balanced herself.
“I am just happy this husband of yours is finally showing up. I don’t ever want to go through another fortnight like the last.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Reanna asked as she slipped her arms into the short sleeves of the silk gown.
“You’ve been running ‘round like a chicken with no head and driving us all stark batty.”
Guilt touched Reanna’s shoulders. Miss Melby always said what others were too polite to. “Has it really been that bad?”
“Worse, and all to impress the husband that sent you up here, alone, for months and months.”
“But we do not know what his reasons were. I am sure it had to have been something drastic, or he would not have treated me so. He did ask me about my father before he sent me away…maybe it had something to do with that. Regardless, he is coming now, and he would not be coming if it was not for a good reason, correct?”
“I hope so, my lady.” Miss Melby moved behind her to lace the dress tight.
“I do too. I know it. And when he sees the orphanage and all that I have learned over the past months, he is sure to see that I am worthy.”
Miss Melby snorted a sarcastic laugh. “Worthy, my lady? Is that why you’ve been doing all this? To be worthy in his eyes?”
“Well, no…I do not think so.” Reanna paused and looked at herself in the mirror. A tiny stab of realization struck her. “Maybe. Maybe just a little bit.” She turned back toward Miss Melby. “But is that such a bad thing? I want my husband to be proud of me.”
“And I can’t imagine any man not being proud of you, my lady. Seems to me that he’s not the worthy one. I am hoping for the best, for your sake, but I’m just wondering if he’ll feel the same way.”
Reanna straightened her shoulders, shaking off the self-doubt and bolstering herself with inflated confidence. “I am sure he will, Miss Melby. I am sure of it.”
A small ruckus floated upwards from the entry, and Reanna knew that Killian had finally arrived. Miss Melby nodded approval at her mistress as Reanna rushed to the floor-length mirror, checked her latest outfit, and then pinched her cheeks for rosiness. Satisfied, Reanna hurried out of the room.
When she arrived downstairs, Ruperton was waiting for her, his face an odd portrait of worry and pity. Reanna barely noticed it.
“He is here, then?”
“Yes, my lady. He is in the study. He asked for you to join him as soon as possible.”
A bright smile formed on Reanna’s lips. “Good. Thank you, Ruperton.” She turned, aimed for the study, then spun back to Ruperton, deciding it would be good to know what she was walking into. “Did Lord Southfork mention how his travels were?”
“I believe he said they were satisfactory, my lady.”
Reanna nodded. The small frown Reanna had noticed had not left Ruperton’s face. She guessed it must be the stress of having the marquess back at Holloton, especially after she had run them all ragged these past two weeks. She would have to apologize to the staff for that.
Pausing outside of the study, Reanna took a moment to smooth the few strands of hair that had managed to escape and curl along her temples when she bolted down the stairs. One deep breath to calm her nerves, and she was ready to see her husband again.
She knocked and entered the study. Her breath stopped when she saw Killian. He stood next to the hearth, studying the chess set. She smiled inwardly. His body still had the same smooth lines, thick with strength, and strands of his sandy hair fell devilishly across his forehead. His hands now masterfully held a brandy glass, just as he had once masterfully held her. And then his eyes.
Reanna had saved looking at them for last, afraid, for what they might say, for what they might mean. It had been so long since she had seen the brown in them…and no, she wouldn’t think about their last words.
She needed to concentrate on their wedding day—on their wedding night. Not the following morning. These last months, even as she had fooled herself into believing she had moved past her love for this man, she had nurtured the tiniest flame of hope.
Hope that wouldn’t let her love die.
Had she been stupid?
There was only one way to tell. She looked up.
There they were. Brown, warm, comforting. For an instant, Reanna thought she recognized a flame of passion in them as he looked at her, but it was gone too soon to tell. Now she only read speculation in them.
“Killian…” Her voice trailed off tentatively.
He was judging her. She knew it. And in the next instant, she learned what his verdict was.
“I had rather hoped to hear news that you were with babe, duties being what they are.” He threw his words out flippantly. “But do not fret. Eventually, I am sure I will get around to it. Not this trip, though.”
A cruel sound flitted out behind Reanna. Laughter? But it sounded too harsh for laughter—a malicious, evil sound.
She turned around and found herself staring at the most perfectly formed woman, with skin as pale and smooth as moonlight, classic cheekbones, a small, pert nose, and a crown of wild ringlet red hair, pulled off of her face to either enhance her features or to not steal the show—Reanna wasn’t sure.
Reanna’s mouth dropped open. The blood red outfit the woman wore, encrusted with strands of glittering diamonds, only enhanced her proportions and creamy skin. She was a goddess. A goddess with the coldest green eyes Reanna had ever seen.
And a laugh that crushed her heart.
Reanna turned back to Killian. Her eyes questioned him, forming the words that her open mouth could not, did not, want to say.
“I had imagined we could have gotten through this without the introductions, that you would not see each other, but since you came in and it is before us.” Killian walked to stand between the two women. “Reanna, may I introduce to you Miss Vivienne Von Houten.” He stepped to align himself next to the woman, his hand going lightly to the beauty’s arm.
Reanna couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, much less smile graciously at this woman. She looked back and forth frantically between Killian and the woman.
Killian wouldn’t have done this to her. Surely she was jumping to the wrong conclusion.
“And yes, it is exactly what you are thinking, Reanna.”
Killian stepped forward, positioning himself in front of the woman and effectively taking Reanna’s stare off of her. Reanna looked up into his hard face, still madly searching for a different explanation.
Killian rolled his eyes. “Do not be naïve about it. She is here for my pleasure. You, on the other hand, are going back to London.”
&nbs
p; “London?” Reanna knew she sounded like a simpleton, but couldn’t force any more words out.
The flame-haired beauty laughed again. The cruel, grating noise only intensified. It echoed in Reanna’s head, so much so that her hand went to her temple, hoping to still the sound.
Killian looked over his shoulder at his mistress, silencing her. He walked around Reanna, turning her with him, so the woman was no longer in her sightline.
“Yes, London, and the carriage is waiting for you. I would like you gone within the hour.”
“An hour?”
“Yes, and packed or not, I would like you gone. Your things can be sent along after you have left.”
No. No. No.
Flashes of the last time she saw Killian flooded her mind. Only this time, a red-headed witch was in the room to witness her humiliation. She almost doubled over. It was happening again. No. It couldn’t be.
“But for how long?”
He shrugged. “Until I decide to come back to London. You will be notified.” Reanna could see him dismiss her.
Notified? Reanna nearly screamed at the word. Ripping her from her home was as easy as a “notified”?
“But, Killian, you don’t understand. I have things—”
“You have nothing you cannot leave. Now please, let us not have another spectacle.”
The witch in the corner snorted a small outburst.
Reanna’s mouth fell open again, no words escaping.
She couldn’t let him. This scene was too familiar to her, too painful, and she wasn’t going to repeat her past mistakes. Her body went numb, and without a further word, she turned and walked out of the room, taking careful, measured steps.
The witch’s laughter trailed her until Reanna left the study, closing the door.
She continued those measured steps down the hallway. Ruperton stood at the base of the stairs, a worried look on his face.
“My lady—”
Without looking at him, Reanna held up her hand, palm out, silencing the concern.
She walked past him, up the stairs to her chambers, startling Miss Melby when she entered the room.
“My lady, what are you doing back here so soon? Need to change again?” Miss Melby winked at her. “I always did think the marquess a romantic fellow, putting aside how he’s treated you in the past, of course.”
Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess Page 8
