Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess (17 page)

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.”

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 had 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.”

Killian’s hand paused for just a moment, and then he continued setting pieces, not looking up at her. “It is. It is actually a good thing it is being played with. It has been much too long since it was last used. My maternal great-grandfather carved the pieces, since he couldn’t afford to pay for a set. I never knew him. But my grandfather taught me to play using this set when I was very young.”

“Your mother did not come from money?”

“She did, actually. My grandfather was very poor as a child, but he made a fortune in shipping. Even with that, I still remember him telling me this was his most prized possession. He died, fortune lost, by the time I was five.”

“Then I do apologize. I did not mean to impose on something so valuable to you. Perhaps you have another set in the house?”

Killian shook his head. “No. I am glad you wanted to use it. I doubt my great-grandfather spent the time carving it to have it sit, gathering dust.” He looked at her directly, catching her gaze, his brown eyes flickering heat. “Your hands on it please me.”

Reanna dropped her head at his words, heart speeding and throat instantly thick. This was a mistake.

She fidgeted with her pieces, lining them to perfection in their boxes. She had completely underestimated what he could do to her with one look. With a few words.

Remember the pain. Remember. She needed to not do this. Not be near him. Not now. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him, he interrupted her thoughts.

“I am sorry I disappeared again for a few hours earlier. It took longer than I had intended. I wanted to settle some things with the orphans.”

Reanna’s head snapped up. “What have you done?”

He blinked hard, head cracking back at her accusing tone. “Everything I hope you would approve of. I had sent word to have Miss Melby and Miss Collier hire four more staff yesterday. I wanted to check on their progress. Along with giving them both a healthy increase in pay. Miss Melby is handling the household staff, and after my run-in with Miss Collier, she seemed like the likely person to be in charge of the children while you are away.”

Reanna immediately regretted her snap. “Oh. Thank you. Miss Collier is the perfect person. I do not even like to tangle with her. But I am not sure if…I am trying to be very careful with the money allotted to me from the trust.”

“I did not want you to worry about what was happening at the Brook Street home while you are here. Nor do I want you to ever have to worry about money for those children again. Whatever you need. Whatever they need, it will be made available. Without question.”

Reanna eyed him. He truly did look like he was telling the truth. Maybe she could believe him about this one thing. She nodded, letting a slight smile break. “I did not intend on needing your assistance with them, but thank you. That does ease my mind.”

“Good. Your move.”

Sixteen moves in, Reanna set her bishop down. She looked up to see Killian eyeing her.

“Tell me of your mother. I know she died young.”

“She did. I was four.” Reanna shifted awkwardly. “I have very little recollection of her.”

“Do you know anything about her? Do you look like her? Have her temperament?”

“I only know what my aunt has told me. I understand my mother and aunt were great beauties in their day. So I am not sure how much I actually look like her.”

Killian’s hand paused, rook in mid-air. He looked up at her sharply. “You are beautiful, Reanna. How do you not know that?”

“No. I...” A blush crept up her neck as she shrugged. “I apologize for my lack of grace at the compliment. You are the first person to ever speak those words to me.”

“I find that hard to believe. You never had a suitor in the country? Never a rogue stable hand trying to catch your eye?”

Her head shook. “No. Father requested I mostly stay indoors. I never knew many people in Suffolk. A nanny. Then a governess and a tutor, and a few elderly neighbors, that was all.”

“No one your own age?”

“No. Even our staff was older.” A frown creased her face. “Was that odd? I never gave thought to it.”

Killian’s eyebrows settled from their arches. “No odder than anything else, I suppose.”

She nodded, her eyes falling. “Now I think…I know…I was just alone.”

“I know the feeling.” He set his rook in place. “Your turn.”

Reanna eyed the board. She had already worked five moves ahead, and as long as Killian kept playing to her strategy, she didn’t need to think. But she did need to stall. Best to make your opponent think you’re struggling, when possible, per Evans advice.

She fingered a pawn she wasn’t about to move. “My aunt would never discuss it directly, but I gathered that although the Vestilun sisters were beautiful, there was very little money in the family to back their looks. My aunt alluded more than once to trading her beauty for money. She married an elderly viscount that died within two years. But I do not know about my mother’s circumstances when she married my father. Father never discussed my mother with me, and Aunt Maureen’s least favorite subject was my father.”