The Marquess Who Kissed Me (The Valiant Love Regency Romance #14) (A Historical Romance Book): Valiant Love, #14

By Deborah Wilson

Forced to betray the only man she ever loved…

Lady Belle Lawrence knows she'll never have the man of her heart.

The Marquess of Venmont.

So, in order to save a friend, she decides to marry a man she loathes. 
Venmont saved her a long time ago.

Now, Belle has the chance to save someone else.

She sees the sacrifice as only fitting.
Sadly, her rescuer doesn't agree...

Lord Oliver Childs didn't become a hired assassin just to see Belle sell herself to yet another man. 
He'll protect her with his life, just as he's always done.

But something is different about this time. 

He's always been dangerous, and with Belle, he's worse.
But enemies past and present make it impossible for them to be together.
Will these two ever find their happily ever after?

And what happens when it's revealed that Oliver is not the man she always thought him to be?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deborah Wilson
• Release date: Feb 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393235071

Deborah Wilson

As a young girl, Deborah has been an avid fan of Regency authors such as Jane Austen. Deborah has always been in love with the Regency era. Despite the fact that this era is filled with great social, political, and economic upheavals and happenings, yet there is still plenty of room for episodes of romance happenings. In this era, love was pure. In this era, one can still find men and women who would have the courage to express their love while living amongst strict social customs for courtships. In such times, romantic gestures could be small yet they have a beautiful, meaningful impact. It is Deborah’s desire that through her writings, one will find the courage to love, to profess love and to pursue love. And the reason is simple. Everyone deserves to love and be loved. Pure and simple. Deborah is the author of ❦ VALIANT LOVE ❦ series. While the wealthy and titled men and women of the early nineteenth century were known for their extravagance in dress and decor and the rules that governed ‘polite society’, she wanted this series to focus on something different. Honor. What makes a man or woman honorable and where does love fit into all of this? “Let good be thy fortune and honor thy wealth.” Read and find out now for yourself Sign up now to Deborah’s VIP email list. Why? You will never miss a new release. You will be notified by Deborah personally as soon as her next book is out. →⟫⟫ http://eepurl.com/dHxqRD And please don’t forget to connect with Deborah on facebook. She loves hearing from her readers and sharing her thoughts and writing progress. →⟫⟫ https://www.facebook.com/deborahwilsonbooks

Book preview

prologue

*   *   *

ABOUT THE BOOK

The mysterious Venmont Hill is based loosely on Bidston Hill, which is known for its ancient carvings from the time of the Vikings. An hour’s walk west, one can place their feet in the Atlantic. There is still forest in the area but much of it is city now. However, for the sake of your pleasure—and mine—I like to imagine that two hundred years ago, the land was mostly green.

Caves are another beautiful natural phenomenon in England. The UK’s largest cave, Gough’s Cave, is four hundred feet deep and three miles long. And with more than a dozen spread out over this enchanting island of Great Britain, I added one at Venmont Hill.

So, prepare to get lost in the lush hills and fall in love with the broody assassin, the Marquess of Venmont.

*   *   *

1819

England, on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean

Lady Cebele Lawrence wrapped her shawl tighter around her arms as the wind fought to take it away. She stood with her boots planted in the sand and watched in wonder and fear as Oliver Childs climbed out of the ocean.

And he kept coming, rising up like a true Poseidon. His toned body seemed endless. Few men were built in such a way. Only inches away from seven feet, he was pure power.

Sand and water clung to his white shirt and dark breeches. His large bare feet left prints on the shore.

The air blew around him, tussling his red locks, which had darkened in the water. In a month, he’d grown out his hair and beard. The expression in his blue eyes was menacing.

He stopped before her, and Belle was forced to wrench her head back to meet his eyes.

He dripped on her, soaking her chest quickly, but she didn’t move away, not even when water from his head fell to her cheek.

The Marquess of Venmont’s property often looked ready for rain. With the water rushing up wildly against the rocks and the sky one continuous gray cloud, she’d spent nearly thirty days waiting for a storm.

And here it was.

There was no thunder or chilling rain. Only him.

Oliver’s anger was like lightning, making his eyes nearly glow.

She’d followed him here. When he’d left the estate, she trailed him through the trees, pressing forward through her tears, even as her muscles ached and her feet begged for rest.

Then she’d watched him walk into the sea, and there he’d remained for at least the last hour.

Every time his head disappeared under the dark water, she’d feared he’d not come back up.

She’d walked closer and closer to the edge of the sea and prayed for his safety and that she’d not pushed him too far.

I can kill him, Oliver said.

She shifted anxiously. Who?

Van Dero.

Belle’s eyes widened. That’s impossible.

Nothing is impossible, he murmured.

You can’t kill Gregory and even if you could, you shouldn’t. He has terrible things set in place should he die from anything but natural causes. People, innocent people, will suffer if Gregory is murdered. She’d known the Duke of Van Dero for years and though the old man was weak, his mind was strong and full of wickedness.

Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice shook. Do you not think that I’ve wished for that very thing every day for the past thirteen years of my life? I’m twenty-five. I never wanted any of this.

I’ll speak to him.

No. She shook her head and reached out. Don’t.

He avoided her touch and walked around her. It’s too late. I’ve made my decision.

What do you mean? She followed him back toward the forest. Oliver, you can’t kill him.

He stopped and turned to her. I won’t, but I must speak to him.

What about? She feared she knew.

I’ll do what he wants but only if he lets you go.

No. She grabbed him even though she knew he didn’t want her to. Her blood ran cold at the thought. Never get involved with the duke. He’ll find some way to control you. He’ll own you as easily as he owns so many other lords.

But you’ll be free. His brows remained furrowed. I’ll kill his enemies.

She frowned. How could you say that? Have you killed before?

He lifted a brow. Why do you think he sent you to get me?

A terrible shiver ripped through her.

He shrugged. I’ll kill anyone he wants if it means he and his friends never get to touch you again.

She swallowed. He’ll never agree to that. He’ll never let me go. She couldn’t even imagine such a life. Don’t you see? You’re walking into a trap. I didn’t tell you the truth so that you’d do exactly what he wanted.

He gripped her chin. Yet, he knew I’d do it. For you.

No, she begged. I can’t let you do this for me. How could he wish to set her free when their time together had been a lie? She’d been planted by the duke. She’d come to the marquess injured and claiming a group of strange men had hurt her.

But the men weren’t strange. They were the duke’s enemies, and it hadn’t even been them who’d beaten her. Gregory had had his footmen do the honors. It was all done in the hopes to tempt the Marquess of Venmont down his mountain and into the ugly games that were played in the darkest parts of London.

It seemed every lord was picking a side, and Gregory’s side grew stronger even as his body diminished.

She’d had thirty days to convince Venmont to avenge her, yet she’d spent that time doing something else.

Falling in love.

Don’t give him what he wants. Her tears fell freely. Don’t do this for me, please. I’m already ruined.

He was quiet and then he brushed her tears and said, So am I. And with that, he started toward the house again.

* * *

Lord Van Dero pulled out a paper and slid it across to Oliver. Gregory’s pale hands shook as he moved it across the desk. Though he looked at death’s door, his eyes burned with excitement.

They had been since the moment Oliver walked in.

There were four other men in the room. Soldiers with guns. They’d shoot Oliver if he made the wrong move. This meeting would end with peace or death.

It took every memory of Belle’s broken and bruised body to keep him calm. If he wanted, he could take two of the guards and Lord Van Dero out with the daggers strapped to his front, but he wasn’t sure he could kill the two behind him before they shot him.

As you can see, the duke went on. I own Lady Cebele Lawrence for the next seven years. After that, she is free to go.

Oliver's stomach turned as he looked over the documented proof of Belle’s enslavement. She hadn’t been lying. The contract was old and had been signed between the Duke of Van Dero and Belle’s father.

She was in debt bondage.

It was 1819. How could this be? Is this legal? He couldn’t believe a father could sell his child. His own father had done unthinkable things to him and his brothers but never anything like this.

Legal enough, Gregory said. But keep in mind, you and I work on a different system. I’m contracting you to kill three lords and after that, anyone else I point a finger at. In exchange, you get Cebele’s body.

Her body?

I will keep her mind, Gregory said. She’s pretty, but there is more to her than meets the eye. She’s learned a great deal from me since she came to serve me. I have grown to depend on her thoughts. He smiled. She’s a clever woman. She shall remain in my service, but I vow that no one but you may have her for sexual purposes.

He fought for his breath when he realized what he was being told.

He’d seen so much in his life and had suffered so much.

Nothing was worse than this.

Belle had told him that Gregory had put her up to the ruse. She was to lure him here. She’d had no choice.

He hadn’t known just how deep her pain ran though, only that she feared the duke.

He looked over the contract again and looked for a start and end date.

His mouth fell open and before he could think. he unhooked a blade and stabbed Gregory though the hand that still rested on the desk.

Gregory paled.

She was twelve! Oliver roared.

No! Gregory shouted to the men who stood around him. The old man was breathing through his pain. His dark eyes were wide. To Oliver, he hissed, You’ll regret that.

I should kill you now, Oliver said.

Her father offered her to me, Gregory said in his own defense. The fear had left his eyes. I didn’t ask for her.

You could have refused.

Gregory took another deep breath. That is the past. We are here to discuss her future. He looked at the blade. Take it out and sit back down, Lord Venmont.

Oliver did neither. I’m taking her away.

Gregory smiled. His smile was no longer that of a man in pain. Do it but know that you kill a hundred innocent people when you do.

Oliver stilled. What do you mean?

My walls have ears. There are men waiting for my command. Should I die today or end this meeting without a new contract, they will kill men, women, and children. Babies, too. He laughed. Maybe even a few young men like your brothers. Do you even know where Leonard is?

Leonard had never been one to stay in one place for long. Most of the time, Oliver didn’t know his location unless he sent a message.

At the moment, Oliver didn’t know where Leo was, but he could tell from Gregory’s expression that he did.

But he was certain Leo could handle himself. Their father had raised them all to be deadly.

And that grandmother, Gregory went on. She’s a thorn in my side, actually. I think I might get rid of her.

Oliver didn’t even bother to beg for his grandmother’s life. Instead, he sat down, reached forward, and took his blade back. He wiped it on a nearby chair before putting it away.

Gregory gasped with renewed pain. He lifted his hand and a servant came over and began to clean and wrap it. Gregory bit his teeth through the woman’s ministrations as he spoke to Oliver. Cebele was supposed to be mine for twenty years, but I know I won’t be around for the last seven. You can have her. 

I don’t own people. Just set her free.

That’s not how this works, Gregory said. You must sign the contract and take her body. He looked at another servant. A footman moved forward with a paper. Its ink seemed to have freshly dried.

The duke had been sure Oliver would come.

Why can’t you just let her go?

Where would my leverage be? Gregory asked. I want it made known that you will work for me. Seven years for her seven years. You’ll silence any man I ask you to, and I’ll keep my hands and the hands of every other man off her. That is the deal.

Oliver looked over the contract and fought to concentrate. Every part of him wanted Gregory dead, but he couldn’t risk the loss of so many lives.

There were rumors about Gregory. The man held the secrets of men, they said. There was a legend about a book that held the sins of the wealthy and important. Oliver had been an unbeliever until this moment.

When he finished, he looked at Gregory. The people I kill, I’ll need their secrets first. I want to know their sins.

That’s not part of the deal.

Oliver sighed. Then I walk. He would need them in order to ease his conscious. And I’ll only kill people who I deem a danger to society. That is the agreement or I leave.

And I kill hundreds. I’m sure Belle has told you of the contingencies I have in place should I die of anything but my ailment. London will be left in ruins. People will die. The year after my death will be worse than you can imagine. Think of it like the Black Plague. That is what you’d unleash on the world.

Either you meet my terms or I kill your daughter Lady Irene.

All emotion left Gregory’s face. How dare you?

You invited me into your home, Oliver said. Perhaps, you should have known better.

Gregory’s lips twitched as though he fought a smile. You can’t kill her if I kill you here and now.

And the fact that you haven’t means you need me. You know what I’m capable of and since you know that, you know what my brothers are capable of and that we all are naturally suspicious. Think of it as a gift from our father.

Certain he had the duke’s attention, he went on, I’ve left word that I planned to meet with you. Should I die or simply go missing for an unusual amount of time, they will hunt your daughter down.

Gregory swallowed but said nothing.

Oliver leaned forward and drove home his point. You think I didn’t do my research on you before I arrived? Your daughter is at a charity house as we speak. Such a sweet woman. Be a shame for her to go before her time, to not even have the chance to grow as old as you.

New contract, Gregory hissed. I’ll give you the sins of my enemies, but you can never threaten my daughter again.

Belle is free.

Belle is yours in bed but mine for parties and other special events, Gregory said. Now, do we have a deal or not, Lord Venmont?

∫  ∫  ∫

0 1

*   *   *

London, England

Five Years Later, September 1824

The wind whistled through the dark canopy of trees, rustling the leaves against one another. The night seemed darker than usual, as though even God were aware of the terrible event that would take place come morning.

A wedding. Two people would be joined together forever.

A groom, a vile man few would miss if he went missing.

And the bride... hard to describe, even to a man who’d known her for a very long time.

Oliver Childs, the Marquess of Venmont, stopped at a line of trees and looked out toward the lake.

Lady Belle stood in the moonlight. The silk robe and white night rail billowed around her feet. Her hair was down, the brown tresses seeming even darker against the robe.

She started and turned her head, though not in his direction.

Was she waiting for someone?

She turned in a circle, her eyes searching the gardens. There was no fear in her movements. She could handle herself pretty well if danger came.

Oliver would know. He’d taught her how to fight.

And she’d taught him something in return.

Never trust a woman.

When she turned away, he began his approach. His boots made no sound in the grass. People were always surprised by his ability to sneak up without being noticed. Oliver was well over six feet and built like a lean beast. His ability to move fluidly like a predator had led to the downfall of many.

He was just a foot away from Belle when she spun around.

He knew what would come. He caught her wrist. The dagger’s edge was just inches from his chest. He smiled. If you plan to undo me, you’ll have to aim a little higher.

She gasped, likely recognizing his voice. He felt her relax before she said, Or perhaps, I should have aimed lower. I think that would undo you in a far better way.

He suppressed his urge to laugh but couldn’t hold back his smile.

Clever Belle. She always knew just what to say.

He’d watched her work Gregory’s parties. She was the most manipulative creature he’d ever seen. She made suggestions and whispered rumors in ears. She’d turned friends to enemies and vice versa.

He’d understood why Gregory had liked her. To Oliver, she was broken, and though it was no fault of her own, the facts remained the facts. She could not be trusted. Gregory had ruined that.

He let her go, and she dropped her hand.

What did I tell you? he said. Never hesitate on the killing blow.

But it was only you, she said.

It could have been—

Anyone. she finished for him. He heard her laugh. Will you ever let your guard down?

He didn’t answer that. I thought you were afraid of the dark. Yet here you are, roaming as though you own it.

I haven’t been afraid of the night in years... thanks to you. She sighed. When did you get back?

He was glad she asked the question. He didn’t want to deal with that portion of their past. Not tonight.

I came in a few hours ago. He’d left last week, just after she’d announced her intention to marry Dunst. He’d planned to miss the wedding, and yet here he was.

Where did you go? she asked.

Home. To see my grandmother. His mother’s mother, Lady Serveck, lived not far from his own property. He liked to check on her and see to her health, though in truth, she was strong in both spirit and body.

How is Lady Serveck? Warmth filled her tone. Belle liked his grandmother.

Lady Serveck? It’s me you should be concerned about. I managed to withstand her coddling for longer than I thought. His grandmother wanted him to join the Order of Good Fellows. Like the Royal Society, the Good Fellows made strides to enhance the world through science and education.

His grandmother wanted Oliver to present the lighter he had invented.

It required less work than tinderboxes, required a single hand for operation, and burned faster on gas. It made Oliver’s life easier.

And he had no intention of sharing it with anyone.

She laughed. Your grandmother is such a sweet woman. I’m so glad you have her.

Oliver said nothing. He’d not always had his grandmother. She’d come just after his father died and by then, Oliver and his brothers had been men. He didn’t blame her for hiding from her son. He was crazy, and she was a woman, which meant she had few rights, even fewer with his father being a marquess.

Have you returned for a specific reason? Belle asked. Are you on an assignment?

No assignment. Yet he had his reasons for coming.

She tilted her head as though she didn’t believe him. Are you here to protect me?

And like that, he snapped. Protect you? From what? You’ve already sold your soul. There is nothing anyone can do.

She sighed. We had no choice. I had no choice. Someone had to marry Lord Dunst and it couldn’t be Vita. She and Remy are in love. They deserve to be happy.

And you don’t? He was usually a patient man, but something about Belle irritated him. Actually, everything about her irritated him and he didn’t understand why. She’d not been the first person to betray him. She hadn’t even been the first person close to him who had done something irrevocable.

Yet his anger with her was unmatched... which only made him angrier.

You said you wouldn’t marry, he said.

She laughed. As though I wanted this.

I don’t know? he asked. Did you?

She stiffened. Is that a serious question? Do you truly believe I wanted to marry Cassius’ enemy? That I wanted to be the rope that tied Cassius’ people and Dunst’s people together?

There’s still time to back out.

She shook her head. I marry in a matter of hours. There is no time. Besides, we need the information Dunst has on The Circle.

The Circle. It was all anyone talked about now. Some group of old men who thought themselves in charge of the world.

Oliver didn’t believe in the rumors. He didn’t think anyone more powerful than Cassius, the Duke of Van Dero. Just like the duke before him, he was formidable.

Yet he had many things the last duke lacked, a goal to end injustice. He used his power for good, but that didn’t mean everyone agreed with his methods.

As one of the duke’s assassins, Oliver was aware of that more than anyone else.

Dunst is probably leading us in a circle, Oliver said. Did you ever think of that? That perhaps he’s just a wealthy but lonely man? He lost an eye as a child. Perhaps he is forcing this junction with Van Dero for the sole purpose of companionship.

Then I will be the very best companion he’s ever had if that is what it takes to get to the bottom of this.

Oliver turned and paced away. He didn’t want to shout in the middle of the night, but Belle was driving him toward it.

She turned him back, and he looked down at her.

He wished he could see her brown eyes, but the night would not allow it. Perhaps, that was good. Belle was like a siren. Men fell on their swords for those pretty brown eyes.

What if I find the chessboard? she asked.

The chessboard was something of Dunst’s creation. According to Lady Vita, its pieces represented the most powerful houses in England. Cassius, represented by his lion, was the king on one side.

Dunst was on the other side, but he was not the king. Whoever the mystery king was, he’d yet to be found. He was a bear and according to Vita, who’d seen the chessboard by accident, the bear planned to conquer Cassius.

But Oliver didn’t care about any of that at the moment. What he did care about was Belle.

Let’s not fight tonight. Her voice was quieter than usual, soft in a way he’d not heard in years. Please. Can we pretend just for tonight that the last five years never took place? Pretend it’s the night we met? Just for tonight. She laughed. I hate when we get so serious.

He opened his mouth and pulled in a deep breath. The cold air filled his lungs and soothed him.

He preferred being serious with her. It was another barrier he put up to protect himself. Yet, there would be no need for barriers soon. She would be getting married.

He could relax, for now, he supposed.

They shouldn’t fight, not when tomorrow she would become Lady Cebele, Countess of Dunst.

Everything would change after that.

The sacrifice she was making was immeasurable. Dunst had hit her once. Oliver had hurt him back, nearly choked him to death, but it hadn’t been enough. Dunst would likely hurt her again, yet as her husband, no one would be able to say a word.

There was no one to protect her. No siblings. No parents.

She had friends, but it was unlikely that Dunst would allow her the freedom she’d grown used to as a single wealthy woman. She’d be alone in that marriage.

Why that troubled Oliver so much, he didn’t know.

They were hardly friends.

That he’d sought her out at all was unusual for him.

Usually, he did everything he could to avoid her.

He had more than one reason for that.

Why are you here? she asked again.

I have something for you.

She gasped. Did you buy me something? You’ve never ever bought me a thing.

You’ve enough admirers to buy you things. No, I didn’t buy you anything.

He imagined her pouting, her full lips poking out.

Belle was admired by men and women from all over England. Men were charmed. Women adored her charitable heart.

It was only Oliver who detested her on some level.

What did you get me? Her tone shifted once more, still soft, but also now a bit playful. Her guard was down. Belle wore a pleasant mask during every hour of the day. It was a rare treat to see her true self.

He needed to see her in the light.

Come to the terrace door, he said. I’ll give it to you there.

∫  ∫  ∫

0 2

*   *   *

Belle followed Oliver from the gardens. She was at Van Dero’s home in Regent Park. The wedding and breakfast that followed would take place on the grounds. Though the wedding would be done privately, the guestlist for the meal that followed included most of Society.

Many people would be coming to Cassius’ property for the very first time in their lives.

The breakfast would be the event of the Season.

The wedding itself was already quite the scandal.

Lord Dunst had been engaged to Lady Vita Castella just days ago, but her heart had been with someone else. Vita, in a selfless act, had denied herself her greatest wish in order to save the lives of many.

Belle could not allow that. And so, she’d stepped in, convincing Dunst that marriage to her would be preferred. She’d promised him not only Cassius’ connections but sexual pleasures yet known.

She would keep her vow. She would be faithful.

She was certain she could train the man to be the husband she desired. Obedient mostly. She could live with him. She didn’t even have to like him. She’d liked very few of the men she’d shared a bed with in the past anyway.

Her eyes adjusted as she moved into the light of the lamp post by the door.

Because of his height, she moved back in order to see him better.

Her heart caught.

She laughed. You do plan to shave before tomorrow, don’t you?

You know you like it like this. He grinned. It was rare for him to grin for her. He so easily smiled at everyone else but not her.

His eyes were a tranquil blue that always made her feel breathy and floaty, as though her heart was so flimsy it could fly away and float on the wind.

His hair was an aggressive red. Wavy and coarse, it grew at an unheard-of rate.

Years ago, when they’d met, she would touch his cheek and laugh at how bristly it would become in just a day.

You cannot roam around Society with a beard, Oliver. You’re a marquess.

Oliver rubbed his hard jaw. I don’t know. I was thinking to leave it. Would that embarrass you? The hairs climbed up his cheeks. Another two weeks of growth and she’d be unable to see half his face.

Are you not afraid to embarrass yourself?

You know I don’t care about Society, or the title, or anything attached to it.

Her heart raced. You care about your land. Venmont Hill was his home. It was west and by the sea.

He nodded. That I do.

She wouldn’t wait any longer. All right. Where’s my gift? She had to hold herself back from jumping on her toes.

Gift? he asked in confusion.

She nearly hit him. Oliver!

He released a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. And then he crossed his arms. For a lady who receives so many favors, I’m astounded by your excitement.

She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t the gift that pleased her so much as the man who was giving it to her.

For a while, after they’d met, Oliver had been her most intimate friend.

And the only man she’d ever met who had never offered to buy her a thing... or try and get under her skirts.

It was maddening. She honestly hadn’t known what to do with him at the time. He’d been different than any other man she’d ever met.

Confusing and wonderful.

You shouldn’t be so willing to accept gifts from men, he chastened.

She scoffed. She knew it was frowned upon. Ladies were only to take gifts from their fathers, fiancés, and husbands. Yet, Belle had always operated quite differently. It’s the night before my wedding. Exceptions can be made for wedding gifts.

Oliver went into his pocket. Well, don’t tell Dunst where you got this particular wedding gift. He brought his hand out.

Belle’s heart stopped.

She’d expected the gift would be either ridiculous or practical, like a pebble he’d picked up from his land or a blade.

She took the gold necklace from his