Vow: A Lords of Action Novel

by K. J. Jackson

  “As you duly noted, he is good with his hands—he can protect himself enough to get out of scrapes. He has the wealth, the connections, and he is a known rake, so his expanding peculiarities into purchasing virgins would not be questioned. Which is why he would be perfect for continuing our work.”

  “Does he know it yet?”

  Caine smirked. “No. But I have decided he needs something more fulfilling in his life past gambling and women.”

  Ara’s eyes rolled. “So thoughtful of you. I would be ashamed of your pomposity if I did not want him to do it as well. I hope he agrees.”

  “As do I. I believe we will have some time to convince him, though.”

  “Why?”

  “There will be a new owner at the Jolly Vassal, no doubt, so it is possible any auctions will move to another brothel nearby. I will have Fletch investigate that matter, at the very least.”

  Ara frowned. “What happened to the current owner—that burly man?”

  “I did not see. While I wanted to personally end Mr. Topley, I was more concerned about getting to you. I left the Duke of Dunway and Lord Southfork with him. The duke still had murder in his eyes after what happened to his sister-in-law.”

  Ara nodded. While she didn’t take death lightly, she could conjure no remorse over Mr. Topley being wiped from the earth. She settled back down on Caine’s chest. “I did not know the duke and Lord Southfork were with you this morning.”

  “Reinforcements, thanks to Fletch. He was right when he said we needed extra force on our side. And he picked the right two.”

  Tracing his collarbone with her forefinger, Ara pressed her cheek into the warmth of Caine’s chest. She never would have guessed lying leisurely on top of him would feel so delicious. “I know you were trying to shield me from anyone knowing my secret—what happened to me—and what happened to all the Baker Street house girls, but I am actually a bit relieved that the duke and duchess and Lord Southfork know the truth.”

  Caine stiffened under her. “We differ on that opinion, Ara.”

  “Yes, well, I trust the duchess. In all our interactions, she has shown nothing but the utmost integrity. I trust her with the secret, so I must trust the men as well. And I am relieved because someone other than Fletch and the girls now knows what I am well aware of.”

  “Which is?”

  She tilted her head on his chest so she could see his blue eyes. “That you are the most humble champion of innocents, and not a sordid lecher. You never asked for this responsibility, yet you took it upon your shoulders without complaint, only steadfast determination. You are a noble man, Caine—the finest, and I am happy that I am not the only one that knows that fact.”

  “Your secret be-damned?”

  “Well, I do hope they can keep disclosure on it. Especially now that I am your wife.” She snuggled her cheek into the crook in his chest, her fingertips playing along his upper arm. “I would be devastated if my past brought shame upon the Newdale line because it became known I was in a brothel, sold like so much goods.”

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Ara. Never.” He kissed the top of her head, his hand stroking the partially dry strands of her hair. “And if it ever comes to light, we will handle it together—with nothing but impeccable grace.”

  His palm cupped her head, his fingertips landing on the spot behind her right ear. Instinctively, she pressed her head into his hand.

  “This spot, Ara. Why does it have such power over you?”

  Instant red ran up her neck, flushing her face. “You know Mrs. Merrywent’s secret? That means…”

  “I have had to quell the terrors? Yes.”

  She curled on his chest, mortified. “When?”

  “The night we were together before I left for Notlund Castle. They came on after I left your room. I had to hold the spot on your neck the rest of the night.”

  “You came back into the room? I never knew.”

  “I was gone before you awoke. And I could never understand why you screamed of the wolves and crow until you told me the story of you and Isabella in the brothel.”

  Ara nodded, her heart thudding hard at the thought of Isabella.

  “So why this spot on your neck? It is most bizarre that it stops the terrors.”

  A soft smile spread across her face, replacing the embarrassment that Caine had witnessed her terrors. “It was my mother. You know she died when I was five. But of the memories I have of her—that is the one that is a part of me to my soul. That spot was where her fingers would always land on me when she held me in her lap. I do not know why, but that is what I remember, the pads of her soft fingers on that spot. And when Mrs. Merrywent touched that spot—and you, I now know—my mother comes to me in my dreams and she fights off the crow and the wolves. She is very good at it.”

  “A warrior?”

  “And then some.” Ara drew a deep breath. “Mrs. Merrywent says it is terrifying to hear me.”

  “It is. I thought someone was murdering you.”

  “I am sorry—I did not mean to alarm you.”

  “I am just happy I knew what to do.”

  Ara shifted, lifting her head from his chest to see him fully. “But I think, after all this time, all I really needed was you to banish the wolves, Caine.”

  “I will fight as many as you have, for as long as you have them, Ara.” He smiled, warm, protective. “Gladly, optimistically, and with immense pride that you have chosen me to do so.”

  Her throat choked.

  Never had she felt so cherished. So pure in her own skin. So treasured in Caine’s arms.

  It took her long seconds to realize what exactly it was she felt.

  Peace. This was what peace was.

  Peace with Caine. Peace with her own soul.

  Home. She was finally home. Safe.

  { Epilogue }

  Villsum House

  December, 1822

  Ara tightened her wool cloak about her neck, staving off the brisk breeze. The sunlight was a farce—giving no heat to the land, to the snow-laden hills rolling before her.

  Patch appeared at her feet, nudging her leg through her skirts. But her eyes stayed on the horizon, entranced by the sparkling world, the last rays of sunlight forging diamonds in the snow.

  Hearing footsteps, she smiled, and then warm hands wrapped around her waist from behind.

  Silent, Caine tucked her head under his chin, instant shelter from the wind.

  Minutes passed, the sun leaving the sky in a hasty winter retreat. Ara exhaled, her voice a whisper. “A new favorite.”

  Caine chuckled, his chest rumbling on her back. “You say that every day we are blessed with sun and you are out here.”

  “They keep getting better.” Ara spun in his arms, unbuttoning his coat and slipping her hands inside the warmth to wrap around his waist. She looked up at him, watching the blue in his eyes catch the glitter of the last light reflected off the snow. “Especially when you sneak up upon me and keep me warm.”

  “You should have gotten me before you left. You never would have gotten cold.”

  “The sunset happens so early in the eve these days. I did not want to interrupt your meeting with Mr. Peterton and the mine foreman.”

  He leaned down, his lips brushing hers in the most gentle of kisses. Even with the innocence of it, Ara’s belly tightened, her core stirring. He pulled to the side, his mouth next to her ear. “You will always be more important than whatever business needs tending to, Ara. Always.”

  She smirked in a light scold, squeezing his waist. “And that is why I did not interrupt you. I know how important this meeting was. It went well? Good news?”

  Caine straightened with a shrug. “Possibly. A seam of copper was discovered.”

  “Copper—that is good?”

  “It will be worth a good deal if it holds as much as Mr. Belltom believes it does. It is still early in the exploration, though.” He gave a hesitant smile, a fat strand of his dark hair blowing across his brow. “Be
tween that and the new investments with Dunway and Southfork’s shipping company, my mind is beginning to be eased in regards to the vitality of the estate. Your scheming, love, with the duchess to make that happen was wise.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for not being angry with me for encouraging it to happen. Plus, I have a thousand more ideas. But truly, between the shipping, the mines, and the House of Vakkar, tell me you are optimistic.”

  “Cautiously so. But everything does not have to happen today, this month, this year—we have years to right the estate for our children.”

  His hand dropped to her belly, rubbing it through her cloak.

  “Exactly.” She laughed, her hand clasping over his. “But let us concentrate on getting this first one out, first.”

  His fingers tightened on her belly. “Speaking of our first one, there was a package from Greta for you.”

  “Did you peek in it?”

  “I did. And I dread the day she finds out this babe is a boy and all the miniature jewellery she has been sending will go to waste.”

  “Or the babe will be a girl, and the most bejeweled one ever. The envy of all the nurseries.”

  He turned, wrapping Ara under his arm as they started the walk back to the main house. “I also received a letter from Fletch. Mrs. Merrywent is settling the latest girl, Clarissa, into the Baker Street house.”

  Ara nodded. “Good. All is well with him?”

  “Yes.” Caine quieted with the short answer.

  Ara didn’t mind. Where at first she had wanted to know every detail of Fletch’s dealings with the brothels, as her belly had grown, so had her tolerance for not knowing everything Fletch was doing. Even more so since they had arrived at Villsum House months ago. She trusted Mrs. Merrywent with the new girls that were saved. She trusted Fletch. Most of all, she trusted that Caine was telling her what he needed to.

  Funny—and amazing—that the trust had only bred peace in her soul.

  Ara’s head bowed as she watched Caine’s boots stepping even and light in the snow and her hand ducked under the folds of her cloak to rub the hard lump that had become her belly.

  She lifted her head, looking to him. “Caine, I have been pondering—our first girl, when we have her, I would like to call her Isabella.”

  His feet stopped, drawing her to a halt. He rounded her, his hand over her shoulder not leaving her body. Searching her face for a long moment, his left eyebrow cocked before he spoke. “Tell me why.”

  Ara nodded, drawing a breath as she gathered her thoughts. Her hand went onto his chest. “She was the one that brought us together. You loved her. I loved her for the will she gave me in those few days I knew her. I will never forget how much she meant to me, and I would like to honor her spirit with something beautiful, like our daughter will be, instead of leaving her name to the ugliness in how her life ended.”

  Heartbeats passed slowly before Caine smiled, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. It took long seconds for him to speak, his voice rough. “I think that would be fitting, Ara. And beautiful.”

  She nodded, smiling, wrapping her arms around him to grip him hard. “Good.”

  His face buried in the side of her hair, he cleared his throat. “But this one will be a boy, right?”

  He chuckled as Ara shoved his chest away, jumping to the side and bending to scoop up a handful of snow, then throwing it at him with a laugh. “You should be so fortunate.”

  She scampered from him, scooping up more snow just before he captured her. She mushed the snowball onto his neck, her laughter shaking her.

  Caine growled, nipping at her ear.

  She settled, letting his hold tighten around her as he caught her eyes in his, serious. “I am, Ara. Boy or girl—no matter what. I am the most fortunate person alive.”

  She nodded. He was. She was.

  ~ Author’s Note ~

  Thank you so much for taking this latest trip back in time with me!

  Word of mouth is crucial for any author to succeed. If you liked reading Vow, please consider leaving a brief review—even if it is only a line or two, it is an enormous help. I truly appreciate the reader’s words and thank you so much!

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