The Marquess Who Adored Me
The Men Who Revered Us
Rachelle Stevensen
Copyright © 2020 by Rachelle Stevensen
All rights reserved.
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The Marquess Who Adored Me
*Warning: There are scenes of domestic violence and violence that is described. It is all pertinent to the story.*
Cole St. Andrew, The Marquess of Woodbridge has been afraid for years that he would turn into his father and hurt the love of his life. So, for years he watched his love from afar, too frightened of his past to do more than watch her. When he gets back to London after everything that happened with his family and finding out about their massive family secret, that is going to change, and nothing can stop him from claiming the woman he loves. Will he finally get the girl he loves or is it too late? Will he be able to rescue her from the fate that awaits her?
Eden Turner has loved Cole from afar for years. She is a wallflower and proud to be. There has never been anyone who makes her wish to change it, until she saw Cole across the room years ago. She has lived a quiet life, one that has been lonely and until she found her purpose in helping those less fortunate than her. Even though she too suffers abuse at the hands of her brother. When Cole gets back from his trip to the country, she is determined to speak to him. To finally tell him what she has kept secret for many years. But at the first ball they attend, he comes with a beautiful woman on his arm. She feels as though her heart is ripped from her chest, and Eden doesn’t wish to see him again. But things are not always what they seem. Will Cole be able to win her over? Will she be able to tell him of her love? And will he be able to save her from those who seek to harm them both?
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Rachelle Stevensen
Prologue
COLE ST. ANDREW
Cole St. Andrew was tired. Not just tired. No. It was beyond that. He was exhausted. His body and brain wanted two very different things right now.
His body begged for sleep, yet his brain wouldn’t stop thinking. Wouldn’t slow down to let him sleep. It was all he had done for several days.
And, it seemed like it would be all he did for a very long time. Until he got the answers he sought. And he knew the answers were going to be very difficult to find.
He sighed, wishing his brain would cooperate and let him sleep. His body needed it to heal. Yet, no matter what he did, nothing worked. It always seemed just out of reach. And that frustrated him to no end. Unless his mother gave him a sleeping draught. Which he hated.
He sat up, done trying to sleep, and being careful to not tear at his stitches that were in his shoulder, got out of bed.
He walked over to the window and looked out at the night. He couldn’t see much, just the endless stars in the sky, the moon, which seemed to mock him with its brightness and the black grounds.
He was completely nude, but there was no one around to see him. He didn’t like the restriction of clothes, needed to be free of them when he slept, so here he stood. Nude. He leaned his uninjured shoulder against the window frame and rubbed his forehead.
Looking out at the night made him think of the dark nights they had when their father was alive.
How each night felt even more endless than the last.
Cole remembered how hard it was to sleep then as well. He recalled how afraid he had been of his father, how Aidan had always made him run and hide when his father called for their beatings.
He loved his brother for that, and also hated him for it. He should have been there with Aidan when he took their punishments, instead of hiding like a coward, but Aidan never allowed it.
They were of the same height, and build, so Cole knew he could have taken any punishment their father gave them, but Aidan would always convince Cole that he could handle it, and that Cole didn’t need to have those memories.
While he was grateful for Aidan doing that for him, Cole just wished he would have been there sooner for both times that Aidan had almost given his life.
Cole may not have scars on his face like Aidan, but seeing his father beat his brother so badly, was something that haunted him for months and years to come. It was something that haunted him still.
Hating that he hadn’t been there to stop it sooner. It wouldn’t have helped much, but Aidan would have had less scars for it. He could have stopped it before it had gotten to the point where Aidan had been beaten so much, he could have died.
Cole didn't think Aidan would have survived the night. He still was in awe that his brother walked the earth and had recovered how he did.
He remembered that day with perfect clarity. He had been in the ballroom cleaning, when a footman came running in, completely out of breath and looking so frantically around he had almost missed that Cole had even been in the room.
Cole called out to the man, James. James had whipped around so fast, that he almost fell to the floor. James said, out of breath that his father was in the stables, and that he had caught Aidan in there working.
Cole had felt his stomach drop, knowing what that meant.
James said Jacob had dragged Aidan to a tack room and he could hear the sound of a whip cracking. One that made a different sound than most.
Cole knew then that Jacob had brought the whip he had made. And that Aidan would never be the same if what James was saying was the truth. And he had no doubts that the man wasn’t lying.
Cole immediately dropped what he was doing and ran as fast as he could to the mews. Not caring who or what was in his way. When he reached the stables, he could hear a whip coming down again and again. But none of someone crying out in pain. Which he fully expected.
Running toward the sound, he opened the door to see his worst nightmare. Aidan was tied to a post in the middle of the room. His head was lolled on his chest, and he wasn’t moving. His body was still, and Cole knew Aidan was passed out, or he was dead. He prayed his brother wasn’t dead.
Aidan’s back was bloody; his pants had soaked up a lot, and Cole could see they had changed color with the blood. His arms, shoulders, his face, and the ground around him were also covered in blood.
Cole sucked in a shocked breath and saw his father, who was breathing hard, getting ready to bring the whip back again.
Cole darted forward, coming between Aidan and his father. Needing this to st
op. He put his arm up to block the whip from landing on his brother again, and it bit deep into his arm with the swing.
He had rolled his sleeves up to clean the ballroom, and the whip easily sliced into his arm. Cole knew it was because of his father’s special design, where the tip was an inch-long piece of metal that was wicked and sharp. It was also slick with Aidan’s blood, and now his.
He kept the whip wrapped around his arm and pulled. It came free of Jacob’s hold, which Cole was beyond grateful for, and Jacob sneered at Cole.
“You need to get out of the way, boy. He needs to be taught a lesson. He has defied me and my wishes for the last time.”
Cole shook his head, “There is nothing you can teach him that is worth his life. You could kill him. Hell, he may already be dead. You have done enough. Just get into your damn carriage and leave. Just go!”
Jacob stalked forward, his face a mask of pure hatred and menace, and punched Cole in the face. Cole staggered back a step, the blow harsh and unyielding, almost tripping over Aidan’s prone legs.
When Cole regained his balance, he reached down and grabbed his large hunting knife out of his boot. He brandished it at Jacob, and Jacob laughed.
Cole looked up at his evil father with blood dripping from his nose. “You think to come in here and interrupt me? You don’t get to act like that here boy. You should feel grateful that I am feeling benevolent and that I have done enough damage today. Watch your back Cole. Your time is coming. Aidan won’t always be here to protect you.”
With that, Jacob turned and left the room. Cole watched him climb back into his carriage, his clothes were bloodstained, as were his hands.
Not once did Jacob look back, nor did he turn around to see if Aidan yet lived.
He just called out to his driver and Jacob’s carriage headed down the road, and back to London.
Cole breathed a sigh of relief that Jacob was gone. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He could feel the pain from the whip mark on his arm, but he didn’t care. One small cut didn’t matter, not when Aidan’s entire back, his face, his shoulders and arms were all covered in them.
He went to Aidan’s side and gently cut the bonds that tied his brother to the pole. Aidan groaned as his back shifted, and Cole gave a quick sigh of thanks that his brother lived.
He lifted Aidan’s wrecked body into his arms, then over his shoulder. Cole started to bring him from the room, but the blood flowed freely from Aidan, and he slipped in it. He almost went down, but very slowly righted himself and walked carefully to the house.
John, their stable master’s oldest son, came to his aide. He helped Cole balance Aidan’s weight, and Cole was able to walk easier. Aidan would groan in pain occasionally, and it made Cole grimace. Wishing he could take the pain from his brother and hating that he had gone through the hell he had.
Aidan’s back was completely ripped open. Some places were deeper than others, so deep Cole was afraid to look at them and see the bones of Aidan’s back. He was afraid to see anything else.
John called for a footman to get Lydia. When she came running, Cole remembered her screams of surprise and pain.
She went completely white, and Cole thought she would pass out from how grey her skin had gone after seeing her oldest son ripped apart. “Mother, where do you want me to put him?”
Lydia snapped out of her trance and she directed him to the office and Jacob’s desk. She needed a flat surface to work on and directed Cole to turn Aidan to his stomach.
He helped Lydia get Aidan’s shirt off from around his waist, and where Lydia directed him to go, he went. What she told him to get for her, he got.
He did it with hardly a word spoken between them, just the two of them working to save Aidan’s life. To sew his ripped apart wounds back together. Those they could anyway.
Lydia didn’t want to scar them with this, so she made the girls stay far away. She didn’t want them to see Aidan in such a state. At least not yet.
It was just the two of them, working together to sew Aidan’s flesh back together. Cole knew how to sew; his mother had made certain they knew. He was grateful for that knowledge now.
Aidan was too far gone to make any noise, or protests and Cole was again thankful for that small mercy. That Aidan wouldn’t feel the needles being dragged through his skin.
After Lydia had stitched all she could, done all she could do, she sat back in Jacob’s large chair and sobbed. Cole knew she had been holding it in and thought she had done well.
He walked around the desk and gathered her in his arms, not caring that they were both covered in blood, and he held his mother tight.
He could feel his eyes burn as well and tried valiantly not to let the tears slip free. He knew a few had escaped and he was past the point of caring.
He held his mother, told her the tale of how he had found Aidan and Jacob, and watched his brother breathe. Grateful to God or whoever was above, that he still did so.
They let Aidan rest for a time, knowing that moving him too soon would hurt him, but also not wanting him to stay on Jacob’s hard desk. Lydia called some footmen, and together they moved carefully through the hallways, up the stairs and put Aidan in his bed.
The next few months were hell on earth. For all the people who still lived on their estate. Aidan got an infection, deep in several of his large wounds. You could see and smell the infection.
It seeped from the wounds, and Lydia had to lance several of them to rid Aidan’s back of the pus. Aidan would scream into the pillow, and Cole hated hearing the noises that escaped his brother’s mouth.
Finally, the infection got so bad, Aidan couldn’t fight it, and he got so sick he almost died. It was a close call, and if it hadn’t been for Lydia and her knowledge of plants and their medicinal properties, Aidan would have died.
No doctor came to help. Though several were called. But they didn’t want to risk their lives for the chance to save one, and so it was up to them. Cole, Lily, Rose and Lydia were run ragged those few months.
Jacob had visited rarely during that time. He didn’t care that Aidan was at death’s door. Almost relished the fact that he was. Cole hated seeing Jacob and often, he would stay by Aidan’s side.
Not wanting to see the man who had almost put Aidan in his grave. Jacob didn't see Aidan when he did come home, nor did he care to. Cole hated him more and more each day that passed that his brother still lay, fighting for his life.
The only thing Jacob did when he came back was take time to intimidate the few servants they had left.
He gave everyone hell, and by the time he left again, more of their loyal staff would leave. Never to be seen or heard from again.
Cole and Lydia had tried to convince people to stay, but no one would. In the end, they were left with the Peabody’s, who had come with Lydia to the house when she married Jacob, their cook Ida, John and his father and two footmen who wanted to brave the monster that resided in the house.
Both of whom refused to leave on account of wanting to protect the family and loving their job.
Cole knew that their work would be ten times harder. But he didn’t resent hard work. He appreciated it. It made him the man he was, and that was what counted.
Cole shook his head, the thoughts of those days not so long ago made him grimace.
Those days had been the darkest, and so had the ones in the months after Jacob’s death. Not only had his brother been once again on the brink of death, but someone had to go take care of everything that needed to be done. He had to go to London to take over the Dukedom, though he was only ten and eight years of age when Jacob had died.
Aidan couldn’t do the job, and it landed squarely on Cole’s shoulders. Cole didn’t mind it and did the best he could. In the years since his father’s death, Aidan refused to come to London. His face was scarred, and Aidan hated the looks he got when he showed his face.
Cole never complained about being in London and would help his brother in any way that was needed.
Because that’s what you did when you were family.
He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. These thoughts not something he needed to think of, nor did he want them.
He just needed to sleep, to heal so he could get back to London and hopefully find the answers he sought. The ones that seemed so far out of reach.
He turned from the window, deciding he needed some fresh air. Or something. Needing to take his mind off his dark thoughts and memories.
He carefully pulled on a pair of breeches and walked out the door into the dark hallway.
There were no sounds from any of the rooms he passed by and Cole knew everyone was sleeping.
He walked down to Aidan’s new study, wanting to find a book or ledgers to do. Anything was good, if it kept his mind off Braddock and the questions that plagued him since his wounding.
When he opened the door, the room was lit with a few candles, and he looked up in surprise. Aidan was sitting at the desk, his head in his hands.
Cole cleared his throat and Aidan looked up, startled. “Cole, what are you doing here? I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Cole shook his head, “No, I couldn’t sleep. My mind has too many things running through it right now for me to sleep.”
Aidan sighed and gestured for Cole to sit. Cole walked to the desk and sat in front of him.
Cole sat, “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be snuggled up in bed with your lovely wife?”
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