The Marquess Who Adored Me

by Rachelle Stevensen

  Cole knew Harold had died when he was a young boy, he just didn’t know the exact date until now.

  Cole tightened his hand into a fist, wishing he knew what had happened to him.

  He had no memories of him, but Lydia had. She was fond of the old man and used to speak of him often. She never said how he had died, just that he had.

  And it always made her sad. It was around the same time that her own parents had passed away. She had the hardest time, with both her parent’s deaths, and the death of Harold, who loved her boys dearly.

  Lydia had said that she made the mistake and had run to them right after Jacob had gotten home. After her loving husband came in with two different women on his arm, and after the first time Jacob had held her down and raped her.

  She had never wanted to go back, not after that, but Jacob had done something to scare her badly enough that she returned and regretted it since. As her happy and wonderful life was now one of nightmares and pain.

  Then, her parents had died unexpectedly. Her only people who had loved her, and cared for her, aside from her children had died. Lydia had been all alone then, with just her horrible husband, and her two small boys.

  Cole knew she had suffered. And greatly. She didn’t go into all the details, but he knew. Aidan knew as well, and it was why he had been beaten so often. Why he made certain Jacob beat him, instead of Lydia.

  Cole hated Jacob again. Or Edward. Whoever he was. He hated him with every single fiber of his being, and if he wasn’t already dead, Cole would have killed him.

  He was struck hard at that realization. He wasn’t a violent man, never had been, but if Edward was here right now, Cole would gladly put a sword or a bullet through him with absolutely no hesitations or reservations.

  He walked to the next graves, shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, and right in front of him, was the grave for Edward.

  Cole shook his head sadly. Sure enough, his grandfather had gone to drastic lengths to make certain his family wouldn’t suffer. Made certain no one in the ton found out their horrible secrets.

  And Cole felt ashamed of his grandfather. That he could hate his child so much that he would pretend he died, instead of facing the gossip of the ton.

  How tragic. For all of those involved. So, Braddock had been right. Jacob had a twin. So, if Jacob had a twin, where was Jacob? It was another dead end.

  He needed to contact Burk and see about going to Newgate prison with him. But if Harold had made it seem as though Edward was supposedly “dead” then would his name be on the records of the prison? Or would he be there under a false name?

  Cole felt the blood drain from his face, and he gripped a headstone nearby to steady himself. He was certain he knew the answer to his question, but he had to try anyway.

  He would leave no stone unturned. Now that he knew that Braddock hadn’t been lying when he had come to their house with his ill intentions, he wanted nothing more than to leave this place and the horrible lies that had been told, all because of shame.

  He wanted to get back to Eden. And, he had to let Aidan know. It was imperative that his brother knew all he had learned. Which wasn’t much, but Aidan still had to know.

  Cole felt that Aidan would be getting several letters over the course of the next few days.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jacob

  Newgate Prison, London England, Oct 1812

  Jacob stared up at the blue sky through the small window in his cell again. He had his fist propped against the wall, and he was lost in thought.

  He normally had a routine that he did every day, but today, he just stared. He didn’t want to do what he did, day after endless day. His mind not wanting to resume his monotonous life.

  He hated being in here. Hated that he had been the one to serve the time for his brother. And hated that his brother had lived the life Jacob was supposed to live.

  Jacob hadn’t killed that girl, those guards or the other inmates, yet, he had been the one who had gone through hell for it.

  He hated the uncertainty and the fear that his brother had followed through with his threat to harm Lydia. She was innocent of this. Of anything. Her only crime was marrying him.

  And Jacob had wanted her too much to have left her alone. He hated himself for being so selfish. If he had just left her, she wouldn’t be in danger now.

  He hated that Edward had done or could have done damage to his family. He knew without a doubt that Edward would harm them, and not knowing how Edward would hurt them, or if they were even still alive drove him out of his mind.

  Jacob gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight. Hating his evil brother with every breath he took. He could still see every single line of Lydia’s face. Remembering how beautiful she was. She had been his sunlight in his dreary, lonely and sad world, and he loved her for it.

  She was always kind, unfailingly kind to everyone around her. So much so that everyone had a kind word to say in return. She also never found someone she couldn’t talk to or couldn’t help in some way.

  She had grown up in a small, but influential family near the seaside. Her parents, while they held titles, could care less about them. They only cared that their daughter was a good person.

  Her mother had worked with herbs and plants for Lydia’s entire life, and Lydia knew just as much as her mother did when it came to plants and healing with those plants.

  They had brought Lydia to London to visit Lydia’s grandparents, one Season before her grandparents had left the continent for India.

  Jacob had seen her smiling from across the room at her first event. Men and women flocked around her, and that was the end for him. He knew she was it for him, and that was the end. He pursued her, and she fell in love with him just as fast.

  He still loved her. And always would. There had never been another for him, and never would. Not that it mattered in here.

  She was his salvation, and he wished that he could see her, just one last time before he died. Whenever that was. Just once. To see her beautiful face when she had aged. He knew she no doubt looked the same as she did before, and he loved that about her.

  She had helped him, when she didn’t know he needed the help. Had been there through thick and thin, to help him get through his hard times. When she never realized why he was in pain. He had suffered a lot after his brother was taken, and he wasn’t the same.

  He knew it was better for Edward, to finally serve the time for the horrible crimes he had committed, but knowing his brother was so damaged, so derained? It hurt.

  They may have looked exactly alike, but their personalities were like night and day. And Jacob hated that he looked so much like his brother. He never wanted anyone to be afraid of him, or what he would do to them. Because he wasn’t like that. Not in the least.

  Jacob sighed, and once again wished he had been born with a different brother, a different life.

  But he would have never met Lydia, and she was everything and more to him, so he suffered.

  The door to his cell opened in that moment, completely unexpectedly, and Jacob whipped around in shock. No one ever opened the door this early.

  He went on guard, ready to fight any of the inmates who must have gotten a key somehow to get into his cell. It had happened before, but because of his size, most left him alone.

  He let out a small breath of relief when he saw that it was the guard that brought him food, and his paper that he wrote his daily letters on.

  Jacob had stacks of letters in his cell, all addressed to Lydia, that would never be delivered, but it felt good to write them all the same.

  The guard cleared his throat and shut the door. Jacob’s eyebrows drew down, and his walls came up. This wouldn’t end well in the least, and he prepared himself once again for a fight, and his body for pain the best he could.

  The guard held out the stack of paper, “I brought this for you.”

  Jacob carefully took the paper from the man’s outstretched hands, careful to not ma
ke any sudden movements, and put the paper down on the cot he had in his cell. Not turning his back to the man, “Thank you.”

  The guard nodded, and held out his hand, ready to shake hands with Jacob, “I have been wanting to introduce myself to you, but as I am a guard, it’s sort of frowned upon to make friends with the prisoners. But I had to today. As everyone is out in the yard, and the other guards are out watching. I am Jack McKinnon.”

  Jacob held out his hand cautiously, “Gerald Stuart.”

  It was the name his father had had Edward placed here under. Jacob knew what it was, because he was there the day that his brother had been placed in Newgate in the first place.

  And he was there at his father’s side when they buried a box. One that held nothing. But, one that people mourned over, nonetheless. Jacob hadn’t like that they had made up a story of his brother’s sudden demise, because his father had been too ashamed that his eldest son was so evil and deranged.

  Jack’s eyes flashed with something Jacob couldn’t name, and said, “Pleasure, Gerald.” He drew out the name and Jacob went still.

  This man knew something. Something he shouldn’t know, and Jacob didn’t like it.

  He remembered the last time he tried to talk to one of the guards about his situation, and how he wasn’t who everyone thought he was, and it hadn’t ended well. He had gotten beaten, severely.

  Beaten, raped and threatened within an inch of his life that if he ever spoke of it again, he wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise, or he would be put into the prison with the men who hungered for new men to torture and use as their own toy, and he had suffered enough from this one instance of rape.

  He didn’t want to live with it on his conscience again. So, he stayed silent. Just content -as much as you could be when facing the rest of your life living in a prison- with his life the way it was.

  He didn’t need this now. He was too old, and too tired. His body wouldn’t recover, and maybe that was why this guard was trying to test him now. “What can I help you with sir?” Jacob said, as he moved back into his cell further, needing distance from this man who could ruin the rest of Jacob’s life.

  Jack leaned up against the wall by the door, and Jacob leaned against the farthest wall. Not letting his guard down in the least.

  “I wanted, no that’s not right, I had to come here and finally figure out the mystery that has bothered me since I started working here years and years ago.”

  Jacob didn’t show any emotion on his face, not showing the alarm there that was growing inside him as the man spoke. He just let Jack speak, “You see Gerald, when I first started working here. That was around 22 years ago, and there was a crazy prisoner that gave everyone a hard time. And I do mean everyone.” Jack chuckled, and Jacob stayed put, fighting to keep the emotions off his face, “He was so crazy that he killed a few inmates, and a guard. No matter what we tried, he would never follow the rules, and before he could be moved away from everyone, he killed those men, just out of anger.”

  Jack shook his head, and sighed, “But before he could be punished further, by being sent out to the hulks, he changed. One night he was in his cell, screaming about the injustice of his life, going on and on about how his life would change, and soon. How we were all so stupid we would never figure out his perfect plan to get out of here. This wasn’t anything new, so we let him vent it out. But, the next day, he spent the entire day in his cell, quiet as a church mouse. Not saying a single word to anyone. Not yelling and screaming his injustice, his profanities. I looked in his cell, and it was as if the light had finally died in his eyes.”

  Jack looked over at Jacob, who tried to keep the shock off his face.

  “I worried about how changed he had become. This was nothing new, he was a master at getting what he wanted. And would often lull us into a false sense of security. Which is then when he would snap and kill someone. Everyone left him be, but as the weeks went by, never once did he slip. He just went quiet, didn’t fight, didn’t do anything, but sit in his cell and write letters.” He looked pointedly at the stack of letter’s Jacob had written over the years, and back over to Jacob.

  “He never spoke back to the guards, never spit in anyone’s faces when they opened the door, hell, he never even looked anyone in the eye. And I found myself wondering if it was all an act again. To let us be lulled into a false sense of security again, so that we would let him do things again. And have it bite us in the ass. But he never did anything. Never stepped a foot out of line. Never fought when he was brought out to the hulks, never spoke to anyone, never yelled again. Not once. In fact, he helped anyone who needed help. Helped those on the ship who couldn’t finish their jobs. Helped take care of the sick and dying men who lived on the ship.”

  Jack looked down and shook his head, “So, not only did he never once act like he had in the past, but he also changed how I viewed him. He was no longer a dangerous killer, but a man who just wanted to be left alone. To serve his sentence in peace. Years went by, and he still didn’t act like he had in the years previously. He was polite, did his jobs out on the ship, and said nothing. Did nothing. And still to this day, has never once acted like the man who was brought in here. I find that strange. That for years, everyone feared the man you were, because you constantly gave us reason after reason to fear you. And yet, that one day, you flipped a page, and have never given us a reason to punish you, to fear you. You wouldn’t know why it seems as if you aren’t the same person who was put in here originally, or what happened to him, would you?”

  Jacob tried hard not to show anything on his face. Though he was shocked into stillness and silence. This man had noticed the difference. Between him, and Edward. No one else ever had.

  No one had cared that he didn’t want to hurt anyone, and never had from the minute he was placed inside these walls, he never hurt anyone. Aside from throwing a few punches to get someone off another prisoner, Jacob had not touched another person.

  And here was the man who had noticed it all. It was almost too unreal to believe.

  He was scared to say anything, too afraid he would be hurt again. He didn’t want that to happen. Couldn’t let that happen.

  Jack pushed off the wall and walked a few steps closer. He lowered his voice, “I know what happened to you after you tried to talk last time. I tried to stop it, to not let you be hurt, not like that, but I was too late. I am sorry.”

  Jacob took a step back, needing the distance again, but Jack took another forward. “I have been watching you for a long time. Longer than you realize. From the start, I have seen everything. I know you aren’t allowed to leave your cell, not after the many times the person here before killed someone, but every time we bring your meals, you always give the other away. Never once thinking about yourself and if you need sustenance. Whoever was here before only cared about himself. He never skipped any meals, and if someone tried to take one from him, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt or kill them.”

  Jack looked at Jacob, “I can tell you about every single difference between the two of you. But I have to know if I am right. If you are here, when you shouldn’t be.”

  Jacob shook his head, he let out a hissed whisper, “If I talk to you at all, I will be killed. Not just beaten severely, and raped again, but killed. I would rather not die just yet.”

  Jack shook his head, “I won’t let that happen. I know I told you already that I am sorry for not helping you the first time, I tried to stop it. Truly, I did all I could, but it was too late.”

  Jacob turned away, “I don’t know if I can believe that. I have been burned one too many times trusting the wrong people and the wrong information.”

  Jack touched Jacob’s shoulder and Jacob flinched. “I apologize for that. But this isn’t right. You are serving a sentence for a crime you didn’t commit. Have for a very long time. And, I want to help you.”

  Jacob turned again, trying not to feel the hope bubbling to life inside him, and Jack nodded, “You can trust me. I will show you t
hat you can.”

  Jacob looked down, “How?”

  Jack said, “Give me one of the letters you wrote. Or write a new one. And I will deliver it to whomever you wish me to deliver it to. It is not supposed to be done, but I will earn your trust. And I know the truth now, about you. So, I feel his punishment doesn’t fit you.”

  Jacob shut his eyes, warring with himself. This opportunity was too good to pass up. He had to try, to let Lydia know he loved her, loved his sons. Let her know how sorry he was for leaving them.

  Even if it earned his death, he had to try. He shook his head, “All right, I will write one, and after you return, I will tell you what you want to know.”

  Jack nodded, “I will be back tonight, if I am here too much longer, I will cause suspicion.”

  Jacob let him leave and sat at the small desk he had. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and let out a breath. Without another thought, he started writing.

  Chapter Twelve

  Katarina

  London, England Oct 1812

  Katarina was angry. Her informant had given her new information that made her see red. She was losing out on another title. Again.

  She let out a screech and threw a few things across the room. Her shoes, a book, the branch of candles, it didn’t matter. She needed to throw things. He was waiting for her to stop to tell her more, but she needed a minute. Taking a deep breath, she waved her hand at him. “Keep going.”

  He nodded, “I heard that the main reason they are going to wed is because her brother wanted to sell her into marriage. I heard that a very profitable marriage offer for his sister has been brought to his attention, and since she is still a virgin, they want to pay the best price for her, and he took it. It would have paid off his debt, and then some. But, she disappeared, and he has been on a tear across London to find her.”