The Siege of Lady Aloria_World of de Wolfe Pack Read online

  Something else must have motivated him, drove him to set his sights on her, for his attention could in no way be random or unplanned. Or she was dealing with a far more sophisticated man than she’d thought possible.

  He’d entered her room, her childish chamber, and touched her things.

  Her cheeks heated at what else he’d touched—with his lips.

  It had been her first kiss, and glorious—unexpected as it had been.

  It could be why she’d thought his intentions all the more serious.

  Now, that memory would be forever tainted by his ruse.

  Danderfur had never touched her—and now she knew his secret as he’d departed England with Sir Yardley shortly after he called off their engagement. Plumberly had been too wary and apprehensive in his courtship to kiss her. And Canterbourne had obviously been dreaming of lips that did not belong to Aloria.

  But Marcus…he’d seized the first opportunity presented to take her mouth, laying claim to her in that moment. And she’d allowed him. More than that, she’d pressed against him in the most wanton of manners. She hesitated to ponder what further liberties she’d have allowed him had he only spoken his request.

  At the time, it had seemed he’d laid siege to her; broken past the barriers she hadn’t realized were there, to conquer and plunder what he desired. The emotions she’d felt were unlike anything she’d allowed herself to feel before.

  And Marcus had stolen it back quicker than he’d given it.

  Trade. Business dealings. Cargo transport.

  Why did she have the notion she was actually worth any more than that?

  She wasn’t willowy and blonde like Lady Gwendolyn.

  She wasn’t exotic with a large dowry like Delilah.

  And she most certainly wasn’t male like Sir Yardley.

  Maybe her worth lay only in what she could offer in business dealings. It was no different than two well-titled families pushing their offspring to wed and effectively merging fortunes and property.

  But it did not make the idea or her future any less depressing.

  “My lady?” She turned to find a footman standing mere feet from her. “Your carriage awaits.”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  The thought of sulking about the house for days on end while she wallowed in self-pity was not an option this time. She was past allowing another to make her feel rejected, devalued, and devoid of worth.

  She’d said never again after the last time.

  No, she would continue her day as she’d planned, without a further thought of that scoundrel Wolfeton. No more would she think of him as Marcus. That man no longer existed. Never had existed, she corrected her thinking. He was a sham.

  Excursions to the dress shop, a quick stop at the bookstore, and finally, a visit to the local rug importer. They were all places her mother frequented, but Aloria was experienced enough to make the trip on her own. It would keep her mind duly occupied. For the afternoon, at least.

  Chapter Eight

  Marcus had an aching head. Odd as he hadn’t imbibed a single sip of liquor the previous evening. Despite the throbbing, he’d committed to meeting Canterbourne and Lady Delilah for lunch, the pair likely using him as a chaperone.

  But, a man needed to eat—and Canterbourne’s townhouse was lightly staffed for the residence of a marquis. He didn’t relish overtaxing the staff so early in his stay.

  He’d dragged himself out of bed at an ungodly hour, called for a bath—which turned out to be lukewarm water in a basin not large enough to bathe a dog—and dressed quickly to catch Daniel before he left to meet Lady Delilah, his intended.

  Now, he sat in a small eatery, staring at his friend as they waited for Lady Delilah to arrive. He’d purposely chosen the seat backed in to the corner to allow Daniel a spot of privacy, but it also gave him a full view of the establishment, including the door they’d entered through. One never knew when one would need to make a hasty departure.

  Marcus knew an inquisition awaited him, but he was able to do naught about it.

  And it wasn’t just his friend. It was likely that Lady Delilah would demand to know what transpired with her dearest friend as well.

  Marcus wasn’t ready to tell anyone of his time with Lady Aloria; she’d been a surprise to say the least. She was everything he hadn’t expected; kind, witty, and…well, her lips!

  He’d been prepared for a simpering, spoiled maid with a mind only for fashion and pretty things. Given a life of privilege, and in such fashion, expected others to treat her thusly. It was with great disbelief—and elation—that he’d found Lady Aloria to be nothing of the sort. She had a caring nature he hadn’t witnessed since his mother passed.

  Canterbourne had prepared him to meet a lady of advanced age—being in her fifth season—with excess pounds about her middle, a forthright nature, and mousy, uninspiring looks. His friend must get his hearing and sight looked into because he’d significantly underestimated everything pertaining to Aloria.

  He couldn’t move past the magic that had sparked between them, entirely unexpected, yet not unwelcome. He’d hardly thought of another thing all night, which likely caused his sore head today.

  He’d never expected to find a soulmate, someone he could envision his life with. Yet, his draw to Aloria was undeniable. Her inner beauty—as well as her outer—drew him to her, spoke to his very soul.

  In their short time together, they’d formed a bond like no other he’d ever experienced. He’d spent the entire night dissecting their meeting, their words, their kiss—looking for something, anything to explain it all. Yet, Marcus had come to the realization it just was.

  And that was enough for now.

  He’d been alone for the majority of his life, deprived of another who understood him. The endless days and nights had stretched before him for so long, they ran into each other with nothing distinctive or changing. But he knew with a deep-seated knowledge that there was more to life. There had to more. At least for him.

  It seemed to be much the same for Aloria, and that was enough to bond them, though she may not yet recognize it.

  “You are quiet,” Canterbourne observed.

  “I have much on my mind and even more at risk.” Merely speaking about it lifted some weight from him. He’d spent too many years hiding the truth; burying the depression deep inside of him where it was unlikely anyone would ever uncover it. “It is only a matter of time before they find me at your residence.”

  “That does not mean I will allow them entrance.”

  He admired his friend’s willingness to assist him. “I wish it were that simple.”

  “Have you stopped by your townhouse or sent word you are in town?”

  “Bloody hell, no,” Marcus sighed, sinking farther into the corner as his headache increased at the thought. “I swore to myself when I returned there—or to the country estate—I would have things worked out. My servants are worried they will not have a post shortly.”

  “They know of your troubles?” Daniel asked.

  “Of course,” he confessed. “How could I not tell them? They knew my father’s weaknesses and, just like me, they noticed the creditors arriving in droves a few years back. I had to tell them. Thankfully, they are a loyal bunch, and as far as I know haven’t let out my upcoming ruin.”

  “I hadn’t realized how dire things were. I am sorry for that.” Canterbourne clasped him on the shoulder. “Though I have been otherwise preoccupied as of late, that is no excuse for allowing you to face all this unassisted. I can lend you all you need.”

  “The last thing I would ask of you is to align with my downfall this close to your nuptials. Besides, I am heavily indebted, far beyond even my wildest imaginings. I could never ask you to dig me out.”

  “So what?” his friend asked, shrugging his shoulders, belying the severity of the situation facing Marcus. “You will scrape your way out or resign to debtor prison—when I have the means to help?”

  “I appre
ciate a place to lay my head at the moment—and we are not only friends due to the deepness of your pockets.”

  “My dashing good looks?”

  Marcus eyed Canterbourne with a mock look of repulsion. The marquis was elegant, charming, and his looks were rather dashing with his clear blue eyes and blond locks, but far be it for Marcus to admit that. “They are adequate, or so I’ve heard.”

  Lord Canterbourne, a marquis, had been the target of every marriage-minded matron since before he hit his majority. Many had set their sights on him, including Aloria at one time, yet Lady Delilah had captured his heart—officially calling off the hounds.

  “Do remember, I am willing to help.”

  “For now, thank you for allowing me to stay at your home, and for keeping my presence quiet.” Marcus hadn’t many friends he counted on like family. It was reassuring to know Daniel would be there, even if it were only for weekly visits at Newgate where he’d likely end up if he weren’t able to secure a marriage to Lady Aloria.

  “I assume last night went well?” His friend moved to a topic much more agreeable to Marcus. “I hardly caught a glimpse of you, except when you entered the ballroom, Lady Aloria on your arm.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me it was a celebration for her birthday?”

  “Oh, come now. That isn’t until next week. Besides, it wouldn’t have made any difference.”

  “It still would have been nice to know.” He turned a scowl on his friend. “I felt like a dolt.”

  “You are only pursuing the chit for her father’s ships and an expedited means of restoring your coffers,” Canterbourne said with exasperation. “Do not act so invested.”

  Marcus didn’t say what immediately sprang to mind, he knew that was a folly he couldn’t afford at this late juncture. But this whole scheme would end with him tied to the chit for the remainder of their years. Not wanting to offend Daniel, he said, “Be that as it may, it would have endeared me to her if I’d known and bestowed good tidings.” As an afterthought he continued, “And she isn’t only some chit to you.”

  Marcus fancied Daniel a man in love; so blinded by it that he was unaware of the destruction he’d caused when pursing his own lady. He wasn’t sure he could live with the knowledge that his friend had injured another without a second thought to her feelings—or that Lady Delilah could cause such hurt to her own friend. Beneath Daniel’s affectations, and despite his good fortune at finding his match, Marcus knew he was ashamed of the way things had ended between Aloria and him.

  “Ah,” Daniel expertly changed the subject, veering away from anything related to his feelings and turning to watch his ladylove enter the room, leaving her maid behind. “Lady Delilah, I am pleased to see you once again.”

  Daniel stepped to her, gently laying his hand against her cheek and whispering something in her ear too softly for Marcus to hear. The couple was much in love—far beyond the formality of this meal. Marcus took in the sight of Lady Delilah while the pair was focused on one another. She was all that Lady Aloria wasn’t. Delilah had hair like the darkest silk, eyes of the deepest green, and her curves were slight.

  But they didn’t hold a candle to Lady Aloria—for it was her inner light that shone brighter than the sun.

  Delilah hadn’t uttered a word of import during Marcus’s acquaintance with her. In contrast, Aloria had said more noteworthy things within the first five minutes of their meeting.

  Aloria’s supple curves only added to her appeal in Marcus’s opinion. Not an inch of her was frail, nor was her disposition dour or lacking.

  He could not, would not, admit this to Daniel. They’d been friends long enough for the marquis to see right through the front Marcus showed. He liked Aloria—more than that, he saw a future with her, beyond his financial windfall from their marriage.

  The previous night he’d dreamed of things he never thought could be his: Love. Family. A home.

  He’d long held that his father—and his careless ways—had stolen any possibility of those things from Marcus.

  After his mother’s death, his father turned to the attention of others to supplement what he’d lost. For many years, Marcus had shied away from relationships that he suspected could turn to anything more than a mutual use of one another. Marcus had seen the devastation his father lived through after he lost his true love, and he wasn’t sure he’d do any differently if faced with that fate.

  As much as he told himself he was stronger, more capable, his resistance greater; Marcus hadn’t wholly convinced himself of that fact.

  And he knew for certain that any attachment to—and subsequent loss of—Lady Aloria would send him spiraling in the same direction as his father.

  The conversation between Daniel and his betrothed had waged on even without his input or participation. Talk of the actual nuptials; blue flowers or pink? Garden ceremony in the country or more public church presentation?

  Marcus was uninterested and foolish for thinking he needed food so desperately that he should accompany Daniel. His time would have been better spent nursing his headache in bed. Which brought to mind visions of Aloria’s bed…and them in it.

  He shook his head to clear his wayward thoughts before they took hold of his body and presented themselves in an embarrassing, physical way.

  Besides, he’d only been included by Canterbourne to lend a respectable light to the pair’s meeting. He would not be called upon to interact in any sort of comprehensible way. It was possible the pair could forget his presence altogether.

  He weighed his options for escape and eyed the door when a familiar form walked by. Luckily, Delilah had also seen her and leaped from her seat to chase her down.

  Lady Aloria, dressed in the palest of pinks, paused before the open door when Delilah called her name and rushed over to her.

  The smile Aloria turned on her dear friend had Marcus jealous it was not meant for him. The ladies briefly hugged, and Delilah motioned inside to the table he and Canterbourne sat at, awaiting their repast. Aloria barely glanced inside before shaking her no and gesturing the way she’d been walking.

  Lady Delilah nodded her head as she grabbed her friend’s hands, tugging her toward their table.

  With one last futile look down the street, Aloria shrugged and stepped inside, Delilah pulling her along. Both men jumped to their feet when the women arrived before their table.

  Marcus swayed unsteadily, his headache having increased.

  Aloria addressed Daniel quickly, “My lord.”

  “What a grand treat, Aloria,” Delilah gushed. “We were only just discussing you and then there you were. I do believe I conjured you from thin air.” Delilah took her seat next to Canterbourne as Aloria remained standing. “Do sit and have tea with us before you run off.”

  “I have much to do, but one cup won’t hurt,” she conceded. “I have been shopping for what seems like hours.”

  Marcus frowned when she never so much as glanced his way.

  Both he and Canterbourne regained their seats after Aloria had sat.

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Aloria,” Marcus stated.

  Her eyes snapped to him as if seeing him for the first time, and her look would have certainly scorched had she had the ability to set fire with a mere glance.

  “My lord,” she said. “It is a pleasure to see you again as well.”

  Marcus sensed she didn’t mean the sentiment at all. His presence there with Daniel must irk her.

  “Lady Aloria. I am afraid Delilah and I must hear your thoughts on flowers.” Canterbourne must have also noticed the frosty tone in her greeting. “I insist that Delilah’s dark hair would look best with blue flowers, while she is set on pink.”

  “Oh, Lady Aloria will most certainly choose pink,” Marcus jumped into the conversation with a conspiratorial glance at Aloria, but she didn’t even peek in his direction. He took pleasure in knowing not even Canterbourne was privy to their secret. “Am I correct?”

  “I most assuredly would not p
ick pink for your special day, Delilah,” she refuted his words. “In fact, blue would be just the thing.” With that, she finally turned to him with a smirk.

  “I do not know,” Delilah continued. “If we decide to wed in the gardens at Canterbourne Manor, then blue flowers would be best. But I am still not set on traveling to the country so soon after the next season starts.”

  “My dear.” Marcus noticed Aloria cringe at Daniel’s use of endearments for his intended. “I assure you people will come, no matter the time of year.” Adding to both his and Aloria’s discomfort, Daniel reached across the table and squeezed Delilah’s hand affectionately.

  “Ah, well, now that that is all settled, I really must go.”

  “But our tea hasn’t even arrived,” Delilah whined. “You really must stay…I need you.”

  Their close friendship puzzled Marcus. It was easy to see why Delilah was drawn to Aloria, but the reverse baffled him; most of his encounters with Daniel’s betrothed bordered on annoying with a bit of exasperation thrown in. They made an unlikely duo; he must remember to ask Daniel how the two became friends.

  Aloria stood, not having been persuaded to stay, Delilah’s arguments falling on deaf ears.

  Marcus jumped to his feet. “I will walk you out, my lady.”

  “That is not necessary.” Aloria waved her hand in dismissal. “My maid is waiting just outside.”

  “But I insist.” He wanted to question her about what he’d done to upset her, but he’d be damned if he’d do it in front of Daniel and Lady Delilah. “I can make sure you get to her safely, and still return before our meal arrives.” He moved to her side before she could protest further.

  He knew the moment she gave in to his offer, for she said a quick farewell to Delilah, nodded to Daniel, and turned toward the door without taking his offered arm.

  Like a puppy, he followed in her wake.

  “Good luck, old chap!” Daniel laughed behind him.

  Marcus had no doubt that he’d need far more than luck where Lady Aloria was concerned.