Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess

by K. J. Jackson

  Killian took in Aggie’s words. She was right. He had to be sure. Hell. He was sure. He looked up at Aggie. “Yes. Yes I want her. I did not know what I had, much less what I lost. Since the day we were married, I have seen nothing when I close my eyes except for her face. No matter what I did to erase it. And now, what she has done. Who she is. You were right about her depths, Aggie. Last night. What she did for those children, it—”

  “Oh, hell.” Aggie’s face froze in shock.

  Killian snapped to his feet. “What is it?”

  The liquid running down along the front of the settee and dripping to the floor told him all he needed to know.

  Gripping her belly, Aggie looked up at him, her face petrified white. “My water…”

  Killian grabbed her wrists, pulling her to her feet. “Bloody hell.”

  Aggie’s breath sped up into quick, shallow bursts. “Killian. Get Devin. I need him. Now, dammit.”

  “No. I am getting you home. Devin would kill me if he knew you were out of the house and I didn’t immediately send you home.”

  “I don’t care if you get killed or not, Killian, I need my damn husband.”

  Killian dropped her arms, and took a step to the door.

  “No, Killian. Stop. Don’t leave me.” Her hand flung out to him.

  “I am just going to get Ludwig.”

  “No. Don’t leave me.”

  Killian grabbed her hand while leaning toward the hallway, his voice bellowing, “Ludwig.” He turned back to Aggie and wrapped an arm around her back, walking her forward. “Out to the carriage.”

  Ludwig appeared just as Killian opened the front door.

  “The duke needs to be found immediately,” Killian said over his shoulder. “He is most likely at the shipping offices. Have him found and sent to his townhouse as quickly as possible. And the duchess’s midwife. She must be brought to their house as well.”

  Ludwig nodded and disappeared while Killian half-carried Aggie down the front steps to her carriage.

  Her first hard contraction hit in the coach.

  In pain, Killian now knew Reanna was a silent screamer, taking in the pain and holding it tight within. Aggie was the exact opposite. Aggie was a screamer, not shy about letting the entirety of London know her body was being ripped apart. She also had a vicious grip on Killian’s hand.

  Her townhouse was only ten minutes away, but that gave plenty of time for the bones in Killian’s hand to come near to cracking during the two contractions Aggie had during the ride.

  Her screams in front of her house brought several staff outside, so Killian had help in getting her up to her bedroom. Once she was flat in bed, Killian tried to stand up, but Aggie’s death grip on his hand refused to yield.

  “No. Don’t leave me, Killian. Please. I cannot do this alone and Devin is not here.”

  He sat down on the bed, trying to fake a smile against watching the pain rack her body. “I am here.”

  His hand went to her forehead, smoothing the hair away as another set of screams tore from her throat. At their silence, Killian brought his hand down, wrapping his fingers around their clamped hands. “I am here as long as you need me. You do not even need to ask.”

  She nodded, relief evident as a slight smile cracked her lips. “Thank you. I am sorry about your settee.”

  Killian smiled. “It is all right. I was planning on getting rid of it anyway. I was planning on getting rid of a lot of things.”

  Her eyes turned serious. “Killian. If anything should happen—”

  “Nothing is going to happen, Aggie. You are wicked strong, and you are going to birth this baby by your sheer damn willpower. And the baby will be healthy. And you will be healthy. Nothing is going to happen.”

  She closed her eyes, and tears squeezed past the outer edges of her eyelids. “But if something happens…you need to get Devin through it. Whatever it takes. I don’t know what he would do. Promise me.” She opened her eyes. “Promise me you will take care of him.”

  “You know you don’t need to ask.”

  “I need to hear the words, Killian. Promise me.”

  “I promise. Whatever it takes.”

  Her other hand came up to go over his. “You are a good man, Killian. You just have to remember that. No matter what has happened, what you have done. You are good. I know it. Devin knows it. You need to make your life right. You need—”

  She doubled over as a scream ripped away the rest of her words.

  “Bloody fucking hell, Killian, what the hell are you doing with my wife?” The words boomed over Aggie’s scream.

  Killian stood from the bed, but Aggie’s grip didn’t let him escape. Killian was trapped between a seething, out-of-breath Devin who was two steps away from killing him, and a screaming Aggie, who refused to release his hand.

  He got one hand up to ward off his friend. “She’s in pain, Devin. Did you really want her to be alone?”

  Devin stepped past him, wedging himself between Killian and Aggie. He tore Aggie’s hand from Killian’s, and she clamped onto him, screams still suffocating the chamber.

  Killian stepped out of the room.

  ~~~

  Fourteen hours later, Killian heard a new scream tumble down the stairs of Devin’s home. A baby’s wail.

  Killian sat up on the sofa in Devin’s study. He hadn’t slept—only a deaf man could with Aggie’s constant screams. An hour after the baby’s cries quieted, Killian saw the midwife leave. But no Devin, no staff came into the study.

  Pacing for the next hour, Killian’s heart began to sink when Devin’s valet, face drawn, came into the study and requested his presence upstairs.

  Heart slowing to crawl, Killian walked upstairs, stopping at the door to harden himself against whatever was inside the bedroom.

  He knocked.

  Footsteps thudded across the floor, and the door opened. Devin stood, eyes sunken, exhausted darkness shadowing his face.

  But even through that, he beamed.

  “It is a boy,” Devin said, his voice only a crack above a whisper.

  Killian didn’t want to ask. “Aggie?”

  “I do not think she will be able to talk for weeks. Beyond that, she is as fine as fine can be after childbirth.”

  Killian let his held breath escape.

  Devin opened the door wide. “Come in and meet my son.”

  Killian stepped into the room, following Devin into the dim light of a few lamps. Aggie was propped up on the bed, back against a wall of pillows, baby in her arms. She looked exhausted. Exhausted and beautiful.

  Devin went over to her and she handed the bundle of swaddling into Devin’s arms. He turned to Killian.

  “I told her it could wait, but Aggie wanted to ask you right away. And I was not about to argue with her after what I just witnessed.”

  He held out the bundle to Killian, and after a second of trepidation, Killian took the baby from Devin. Fast asleep, the baby had thumb solidly in his mouth, cheeks flexing in and out with sucking.

  Killian looked up at Devin, then to Aggie. “He is splendid.”

  She smiled at him and then leaned forward, face grimacing at the movement, to poke Devin in the back.

  He looked over to her, smiling as he rolled his eyes. “Yes. What my wife has no voice for right now, and would like to ask you, is if you will be his godfather, and, God forbid, his guardian should the need ever arise?”

  Killian looked up from the baby at the two of them, shocked. His eyes landed on Aggie. “I…that you trust…”

  Aggie’s scratchy voice, near silent, interrupted him. “Of course we trust you, Killian. We still have faith in you, the good in you, even if you have lost it in yourself.”

  “We do believe in you, Killian,” Devin said, grabbing his wife’s hand. “There is no one we trust more, and we would be more than honored if you said yes.”

  Killian looked down at the babe’s semi-round face, watching the tiny eyes scrunch, and was more humbled than he had ever been i
n his life. “Yes. Then yes. I am the one that is honored.”

  At the sound, the baby yanked his thumb from his mouth and bellowed. Aggie motioned for him, and Killian cradled the baby to Devin, who passed him to Aggie.

  “Excellent.” Devin slapped him on the shoulder as they walked out of the room and clicked the door closed behind them. “Oh, and I apologize for my thoughts of killing you.”

  Killian eyed him. “I did not know you were considering it.”

  “I was. But it was only because my wife was screaming and you were in the closest proximity to her. If it had been anyone else, they would be dead right now.”

  Killian smirked. “Good thing it was me, then. I hope she is not in too much trouble for visiting my house. She was just trying to help with the mess I made with Reanna.”

  “I would rightfully be livid. But how can I be after what she just did? She just gave me the most precious thing in the world. It has made me whole in a way I never knew possible. I cannot even describe the ridiculous amount of pride I have in that little being upstairs.”

  Killian smiled at his friend, nodding as he opened the front door to the first morning light. “I did not even ask. Does he have a name yet?”

  “Does ‘Boy’ count?”

  Killian cocked his head in question.

  Devin smiled, waving the comment away. “No. Not yet. I will keep you posted. Thank you. You took good care of Aggie when she needed it most. You were there. You know how to do that, be there, without fail. It is a unique skill of yours.”

  “It is?” Surprised humility, genuine, lined Killian’s face.

  “Yes. You show up for those you love without fear or hesitation. It is your greatest strength. And it is why we believe in you.” Devin pointed to Killian’s carriage. “Now go fix your mess.”

  { Chapter 15 }

  Reanna stared at the black chess piece on the board, tapping the white piece in her hand on her chin. She had slept most of yesterday, but in the evening, after several lonely hours awake, she had requested the chess set by the fire be moved onto the bed within reach.

  She was used to constant noise and movement with the children, and couldn’t settle her mind until she had something other than the grey silk canopy above the bed to look at.

  Sitting upright, propped against the headboard, she had already worked through two practice matches against herself since last night, and had just started a third, when, without a knock, the door to Killian’s room opened.

  Her heart immediately started thudding. She hadn’t seen Killian since yesterday morning. And the things he had said to her—the things he left her with, had done nothing to quiet her rambling mind. Then he disappeared. And now he was walking toward her, his jaw set, determined, and Reanna braced herself, wondering if this was it.

  This was when he would kick her out of his life again.

  He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, wearing only a rumpled white shirt and buckskin breeches. His sandy blond hair was mussed, run through what looked like a thousand times.

  She cleared her throat. Best that she just got right to it. “I will be leaving now? You disappeared yesterday and I was not sure what to tell the staff about where to move me. I tried, but I still cannot walk. So I was not sure what room to move into, or if you would allow me to go back to my aunt’s home.”

  He didn’t stop his movement at her words; instead, he continued forth and sat down on the bed by her heavily bandaged, propped-up feet. He fiddled with the bandages, then looked up to her.

  “Has the doctor been by?”

  “Twice yesterday. Once this morning. He is not concerned. He said they are healing fine.”

  Killian nodded. “You will stay in this bed until you are healed.”

  Reanna’s forehead wrinkled as her breath caught.

  His eyebrow arched. “Is it not comfortable here?”

  “No. It is fine. Your staff has been very kind to me.”

  “They are your staff as well.”

  She tilted her head, staring at him until it hit her. There was only one reason he would let her stay in place. “So you will be leaving London, then?”

  He gave her an odd look, not answering. “Aggie had her baby. It is a boy. Healthy.”

  “What? When did that happen? I just talked to her yesterday. Is she all right?”

  “She is fine. That was where I was yesterday.”

  Reanna nodded, twisting the white chess piece in her hands. Why was he staring at her like that, his brown eyes cutting into her? He wasn’t here to kick her out. So what was it?

  The awkwardness of his silent proximity intensified. Reanna broke. “I imagine you are in here for a reason?”

  He slid forward along the bed, his hip brushing her thigh. “I made a decision last night.”

  “You did?” Reanna braced herself.

  “Yes. A decision—from hence forward—to be completely honest with myself, with you, with everything in and about my life.”

  “All right…so what does that mean?” Her fingers tapped on the coverlet. “I am not sure what you want out of me, Killian.”

  “This is my first chance at honesty with you, Reanna. Of not holding back. I do not know how to do this. I have always had a plan. Always known how to move forward. But with you. I do not know how to move forward. Not after the things I have done to you.”

  He shook his head slowly, and then his hand went under her chin. She couldn’t stop her head from slightly jerking away, and her crown hit the headboard. His fingers remained in place, lightly caressing her skin.

  “Give me a chance to prove myself. That is what I want out of you. Just a chance. A chance for me to at least prove the possibility of us.”

  She took a deep breath, her chest rising at his words, the air sinking deep into her lungs. It did nothing to steady herself against his words. Against the trap he was surely laying. She couldn’t forget she had been through this before. She couldn’t forget the pain.

  Even if in this moment, she thought she saw raw honesty in his brown eyes. She couldn’t trust her own sight. Her heart pounded. She had to listen to her head. To the reality of the past. She was not going to repeat her mistakes.

  Putting the chess piece down in her lap, she exhaled the deep breath. She would have to return his honesty with her own. “I do not think I can.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?” She closed her eyes, shaking her head, then opened them, eyes trained upwards at the grey canopy. “I once thought…Killian, I once thought you were the world. My whole world. But now…now I do not see anything in you. I cannot allow myself to see anything in you. Since the day after we were married you have given me nothing but pain. I do not know how to get beyond that. And I hate you for asking me to do it.”

  His hand dropped from her. Turning on the bed, he looked out the window that faced the courtyard. His hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it. “I understand.”

  He let a few seconds slide before looking at her. “What if promised you no pressure? Just asked for your time? While you are here, healing. Just your time.”

  Reanna picked up the chess piece again, staring at it, twisting it in her hand. How could she even answer that? She was stuck here, regardless, at least until she could walk again. All of her time was his if he demanded it, and he damn well knew that.

  He pointed at the chess set sitting on the other side of the bed. “I did not think you played.”

  “I learned at Holloton. Both Ruperton and Evans took turns teaching me.”

  “You got embroiled in their chess?” Disbelief sent his face into a half smile. “Their matches are legendary.”

  “Yes, and I did not know what I was getting into. They both taught me how to beat the other—never surmising that what they were actually doing, was teaching me how to beat their very selves. So you can imagine their surprise when that actually happened.”

  “You beat both of them?”

  “Yes. And I felt dreadful after all the time they ha
d invested in me.” She smiled. “But then they started to conspire against me, so they lost my sympathy. But they are the dearest.”

  “Would you play with me?”

  Reanna’s eyes swung to the chessboard, then to Killian, then back to the board. She was going out of her skin lying in this bed by herself, so it would be delightful to have someone real to play with. But it was with Killian. She would have to remember that. The damage he could do.

  She nodded.

  “Excellent.” He stood. “I would like to clean up, and I have a few items to tend to, and then we shall play?”

  Reanna nodded once more.

  Killian walked to the door, but then stopped, turning back to her. “Reanna, I promised no pressure, and I will abide by that. But make no mistake, I have intentions of doing everything in my power to get you to see me again. Me. Who I am. Who I can be.”

  He closed the door behind him, and Reanna sank against the headboard.

  Had she had just invited the devil to a game of chess?

  ~~~

  Two hours later, Killian had a tall side table with a wide overhang brought into the room, so it would hover over the bed and Reanna’s legs, affording her a straight view of the chessboard. She said silent thanks, for her neck was already beginning to crimp for the awkward angle she had sat too long in earlier.

  He pulled up a chair, settling it next to the bed and facing her over the table.

  In silence, they both busied themselves with setting up the board. Again, as when she had first seen the set, Reanna wondered at the origin of the unique figures. The pieces were wooden, crudely carved, and at first, Reanna had a hard time discerning which piece was which. After studying them closely for some time, she could make out the intention of the carver. Several of the pieces had clearly been thoroughly worn by fingertips, the black and white paint giving way to the wood grain beneath. At one time in the past, it had been a well-used set.

  “I apologize that I had them move the set to the bed. I needed something to occupy my mind, but I did not mean to impose on its use, if you intended it not to be touched,” Reanna said as she set her queen in place. “I did not realize until I saw it up close how old it must be. And because it is in your room, it must be important to you.”