Chapter Sixteen

"No, we most certainly do not."  The last thing Marcus desired at the moment was to talk.  He had meant what he said moments ago.  Caroline's past no longer mattered.  What did matter was the woman she was now.  If, in time, she chose to tell him about her past, so much the better.  It would mean that she fully trusted him.  And if she never told him?  He could live with that outcome as well.  The one thing he could not live without was her.

"Yes, we do."  Then she frowned.  "But first, we must get you into this bed.  I fear your leg will not hold up much longer."

In that she was correct, the damaged muscles pounding and protesting as if someone was beating on them with hammers.  Despite the fact that he knew it made him appear less of a man, Marcus allowed Caroline to assist him into the bed.  He also did not protest when she slid off his boots, easing the ache in his calf a great deal.

Before reclining, as she was pestering him to do, he slid off his jacket and waistcoat, removed his cravat and loosened the buttons of his shirt.  In any other situation, this would be considered the height of scandal.  But this was Caroline and he meant to marry her.  They had already shared a bed, not to mention their nude bodies.  What more of him was there for her to see?

Once he was satisfied that he might be comfortable, he settled back into the pillows, thankful to give his throbbing leg a rest and praying that there were no bed bugs or fleas or worse.  When Caroline moved to drag the chair over to the side of the bed next to him, he shook his head and insisted that she come to sit beside him.  She protested at first, but he could see that she, too, was tired and eventually, she gave in to his request, even though it was clear she thought it unwise.

It was unwise.  For after she said whatever she felt compelled to tell him, he was going to ravish her.  Bed bugs be damned.  They were to be married after all.

"Happy now?" he asked her when she was settled beside him, though she did still have too many clothes on.  That lavender traveling gown, lovely as it was, simply had to go.  It showcased her breasts to great effect and made him all the more eager to taste them again.  Those luscious breasts of hers had been one of his favorite parts of their all-too-brief evening in his bed.

"I suppose," she said with a sigh, shifting to make herself more comfortable, which only served to draw her body closer to his.  "But Marcus this is important.  I want to tell you the truth about my past.  You deserve to know."

"I told Rosemont that it does not matter.  I meant that."  Really, he would rather be kissing her at the moment.  He rose up on his elbows to do just that, the creaky bed groaning beneath his weight as the ropes were stretched tightly, almost beyond their limits.  He assumed - incorrectly, it would seem - that she would be glad not to speak of her past.  Instead she merely frowned.  That would not do either.  He wanted her willing.  Not annoyed with him.  "Oh, very well, then, Caro.  I can see you will not be satisfied until the words are out."

She eyed him for a moment as if uncertain whether or not he was being serious.  When she apparently decided he was, she folded her hands primly in her lap.  She also did her best to pull away from him, but Marcus would not allow it.  Instead, he pulled her back towards him, settling her firmly at his side.  

Finally, she stopped struggling and began speaking, much to his immense relief.  "After my father died, my world was in an upheaval.  Everything I knew had changed and I was at a loss.  I believe you remember how things were?"

He did, all too well, and he nodded in affirmation.  That seemed to give Caroline the strength to continue her tale.

"It was not an easy time.  For any of us.  Then, my uncle appeared as if by magic, and, to me anyway, he seemed like a savior.  Lewis Tollston promised me the world and I was foolish enough to believe his lies.  He promised to whisk me away to Dunlin Castle, just this side of the Scottish border.  He told me I could mourn my father in peace and solitude."  She shrugged.  "I liked that idea, to be honest.  I wanted nothing more than to be left alone to grieve."  Then she gave a short, humorless laugh.  "Well, what I really wanted was for you to sweep in and rescue me, either by proposing marriage or spiriting me away to Gretna Green."

"I wanted to."  Marcus remembered those days very clearly as well.  "I tried.  But each time I went to pay a call upon you, I was turned away.  I knew that you were in mourning, of course, but we were friends.  I could not understand it.  That was when I sent Amy in my stead, thinking that the bull of a man at the door might allow a woman inside to comfort her friend."

Caroline shook her head, knowing all too well that her uncle had kept Marcus, and anyone else who might offer her comfort, far away from her.  "I did not know that at the time.  I merely believed you no longer cared about me or simply did not wish to deal with a weepy female.  Still, I know the truth of it now.  My uncle revealed all when he wished to inflict more torture upon me during those times when my body was too beaten to endure more.  That was when he taunted me with visions of what might have been."

"I shall kill him."  Rage, pure and hot raced through Marcus and he held Caroline more closely to his side.

"If he were not already dead, I would point you in his direction with pleasure."  Caroline had suspected Marcus would react this way.  It was one of the reasons she had not told him of her past.  However, when she laid a staying hand on his shoulder, he settled back once more, as if he sensed that she needed to tell him this story, even if he no longer wanted to hear it.

"Bastard," Marcus snarled, but he did not protest again.  Instead he nodded, indicating that she should continue.

Caroline let out a sigh.  This was the hardest part of her tale.  "By the time I figured out that my uncle was not the kindly man I thought him to be, it was too late.  He had plundered my fortune, what he could access of it of course, before my father's man of affairs stopped him.  Tollston had taken me from all that I knew and locked me well away in Northumbria.  He informed the people there that I was addle-brained and had fantasies, that I believed I was a princess and he an evil pirate.  I believe my penchant for re-reading Mrs. Kingsley and the Black Pirate provided him with fodder enough to make the story believable.  Thus, he was able to keep me within his control and assure himself that no kindly local would believe anything that I said should I somehow manage to escape."

"Oh, Caro."  Rage and pain ate at Marcus but he held himself in check.  He had to, for her sake.  "I am so very, very sorry.  I wish I had known."

Thankful for his strong presence, she settled back against him as if needing the strength of his body.  "When I was imprisoned at the castle - which is what it felt like anyway, even if I was not technically locked inside - I was forced to learn all manner of illicit trades.  Among other skills, he taught me how to forge signatures, beating me until I perfect the art."

"The supposed letter from me that Gibson used to fool the ton into thinking he had my permission to escort Amy about town."  Suddenly, the last piece of the puzzle that had never quite fit clicked into place.  "But how does Gibson fit into this?  For I am certain Ardenton knows of your past.  Amy has already intimated as much."

"He does," Caroline confirmed softly, "as do Amy and Julia.  I'd wager that others do as well, not just Rosemont and, in all likelihood, Enwright.  My uncle was not very careful.  He thought himself far too clever.  He did not think he needed to be careful."  She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts.  "But back to Gibson.  After one particularly brutal beating, I did not wake up as quickly as I had in the past and my uncle feared he had truly harmed me, that I would no longer be able to forge documents for him.  That frightened him far more than any injury I might have sustained.  Understand that none of the beatings I or my cousin Norbert received were ever witnessed by anyone and the staff at Dunlin overlooked any evidence of our injuries.  This time, however, Tollston called for a physician, fearing the worst."

"Gibson."  Now the truth was becoming clearer still.

Caroline, however, shook her head.  "No.  At first my uncle called only for Dr. Hastings, but when it became clear that my arm was severely broken, it was Hastings who called for his assistant, Gibson Blackwell.  It was Gibson who devised the plan to make my injuries appear worse than they were, and eventually Hastings agreed.  They forced my uncle to assign me a nurse, Glenna, who was charged with my care.  They said if I did not receive constant care that I might die of my injuries.  My uncle could not abide the idea of losing his master forger so he did as they bade."  Caroline laughed humorlessly.  "During the time I was at Dunlin, it was Glenna who saved my life on more than one occasion, often coming between me and my uncle when he would have beaten me into unconsciousness again.

Marcus made to speak but once more, Caroline stayed him.  "Please.  Let me finish.  I am so close, and I need to speak before I lose my courage."  He growled, but did not say more.

"Towards the end of my confinement at Dunlin, my uncle broke my other arm, the one I used to forge, as well as two of my fingers.  I think he knew that my skills in that regard would not be the same for some time or perhaps never again.  But he was also a greedy man and made me forge one more document, a paper that declared some land that bordered Dunlin Castle to be property of the Viscount Redwing and not the local baron whose family had held the piece of land for a century or more.  Once I finished, my uncle took the deed, but he knew it was not as good as my earlier work and might be seen for the forgery that it was.  So he made one final plan."

"He wanted to be rid of you for good.  Most likely so that you would not reveal his crimes."  Marcus could not see any other outcome that her uncle would have favored.

At that, Caroline blushed a bright red, her embarrassment and shame at this next confession so great that she did not know how she would find the words.  Still, she knew she must if she was to be with Marcus fully and with no more secrets between them.  "My uncle's plan was to marry me to a Scottish laird who had property that adjoined Dunlin, the boundary lines in Northumbria being sketchy at best in some of the more remote areas.  But the laird would not have me unless he could..."  She trailed off, unwilling to share this part of her story.

This was the one secret no one knew.  Not Amy nor Gibson or even her cousin Norbert.  Nicholas Rosemont might know, but she preferred not to think about that possibility.

"He wanted to sample you first, didn't he?"  Marcus worked to keep his voice soft and steady, even though inside he wanted to rip something apart.  Caroline needed his comfort more than his rage at the moment.  "I know there are men of his ilk, ones who will not take a sassanach lady as a wife without determining how well she will, shall we say, please him in the bedroom."

Caroline looked away, her face awash with shame.  "At first, I think my uncle did not truly mean to force me.  He merely locked me in a room with the man and made it clear that the man was to do with me as he wished.  I think he believed that I would simply give in to the laird's wishes as I had given in to him so many times before."  She gave another humorless laugh.  "Even now, I do not know the laird's name.  He was older, but not unpleasant to look at.  I hoped he would be kind, seduce me a bit, but he did not.  He forced me to the bed almost immediately, and even though I fought, I could not...  That is to say I was not strong enough to..."  She looked down at her hands in abject humiliation.  She could not admit the rest, not even to the man she loved.

Marcus however, knowing Caroline as well as he did, could supply the rest.  "He took what he desired from you by force, didn't he?  That's why you were not a virgin when I bedded you the other night."  He stroked a hand down her arm, attempting in some clumsy way to let her know that he understood.  And that he did not blame her.

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face.  "Before you, he was the only man I was ever with and even then, not by choice.  You must believe me, Marc.  Please."

"I believe you, sweet.  I believe you."  Marcus did his best to keep his hand steady on her shoulder so that he would not frighten her.  Of course, he did not blame her.  How could she even think that?  He understood precisely what had occurred and that she had merely been a pawn in a very ugly game.  He despised the situation, but his current rage was more for her dead uncle who had forced her into such a situation in the first place.  "I know you, Caro, and I know that you would not give yourself to a man like that.  I know that you were forced."  But he had to know the rest.  "But why did you not marry this laird?  I know you did not wish to, but Tollston could have forced the issue, especially since the man raped you."

Marcus knew the worst and he had not thrown her out into the night.  After that, Caroline knew the rest of the story would be easy.  Or easier than the last admission, anyway.  "Two nights later, my uncle was killed in a duel, one fought over the forged document I had created.  Norbert was the new Viscount Redwing and, weak and battered as he was, he refused to make me wed a man who would have only used me as a whore.  One who had already forced himself upon me.  Instead, my cousin sent for Dr. Hastings and Gibson, and sent me, along with Glenna, to London for safety while he stayed in Northumbria to try to attempt to set things to rights.  Hastings accompanied Glenna and me while Gibson remained behind to treat Norbert for his injuries.  After that, he left for Bath to see to you at Hastings' instructions."  

Caroline toyed with the faded quilt on the bed for a moment.  "When I returned to London, I found my fortune gone, what little was left barely enough to reopen Turner-Carson House.  The following day, an old friend came to see me, eager to not only spread gossip but to gather some about me as well.  It did not take me long to figure out that she sold the gossip to a newspaper and was paid rather handsomely for it.  I had no other means to support myself and it seemed like a way to do so while still keeping my many secrets.  Thus, Lady X was born and I was soon able to restore, if not all of my fortune, then gather enough coin that I could support myself and those, like Glenna, who had come to rely upon me.  The one thing I did not count on was you."

"Me?"  That gave Marcus pause.  "How do I fit in?  You wrote the Lady X columns to tease me back into society. I know you wanted to find me a wife.  One that was not you.  You made that point perfectly clear."  He grinned at her then, wanting desperately to ease away her pain of those awful years.  "What more is there, other than that the earlier love between us had not died?"

"That was precisely it."  She turned in his arms, seemingly eager now to make him understand, her earlier tears drying quickly.  "I made it a point to avoid you when I first returned.  During those long nights in Dunlin, thoughts of you were all that sustained me.  I did not want you to see the fallen woman I had become."  She reached out to cup his face tenderly.  "Then you fell ill and I received word that you were dying.  I went to visit you and prevailed upon Towson to allow me entrance.  He was reluctant at first, but eventually I persuaded him."

Reaching out so that she would not pull away from him, Marcus captured her hand with his and then drew her closer.  "You could always charm the birds out of the trees, Caro.  No man is a match for you."

"I did not want any man.  I only wanted you."  She pressed her other hand to his chest and he thought he might die with need for her.  "But you were dying.  The day I was there, you had been bleed, a physician cutting your leg to 'bleed out' the fever.  It was then that I knew I had to bring Dr. Hastings to your bedside as quickly as I could.  I was about to seek out Towson when a commotion broke out.  And then he was there.  And I had to react."

"Who?"  All this time, Marcus had never remembered anything about those last few days at Cheltenham House before he had been sent to Bath to recover.  "Who was there?"

Caroline swallowed hard, the last secret between them about to fall away.  "Ezekiel McTavish.  He was masquerading as a physician.  It was he who sliced your leg and had returned to finish the job of killing you - most likely for profit of some kind - when he learned that you were not dead.  He informed me that he meant to cut your wrist, probably thinking that I would not understand the consequences.  However, I knew from my time with both Hastings and Gibson that such a cut would kill you."  She swiped at her eyes for she had begun to cry again.  "You were so ill and weak, your body nothing more than skin and bones, that I knew even a small nick would have killed you in mere moments.  I could not allow that to come to pass."

"It was you."  Marcus looked at her in wonder.  "It was you who fought off McTavish.  My family would never tell me what happened, only that someone caught my previous physician attempting to kill me.  That was when they brought in Dr. Hastings."

Forgetting that earlier in the day, she had run from this man, Caroline flung herself at Marcus, wrapping her arms around his neck, needing to feel his solid body beneath her fingertips.  "I was going to bash the man's head in with a pitcher if he had come any closer to you.  I was not about to let you die, not while I could prevent it."

Something in Marcus' heart, something that for years had been hard and unyielding, cracked at her words.  "Oh, my love."

At his words, Caroline pulled back so that she might look Marcus in the eye.  "I loved you too much to allow you to die, Marc.  I still do.  When you returned from Bath, I tried to convince myself that my feelings did not matter.  All that mattered was your happiness, finding a wife with no scandal that might one day come back to destroy everything that you had worked to build.  I should have kept my distance, but I could not.  And now?  Now you are to be saddled with a wife whose past could ruin everything."

She was certain he would be angry as he finally saw the entire truth of the situation.  She was certain he would ask her to leave and she would go.  She did not want any more harm to befall this wonderful man, damaged as he was.  She loved him too much.  To her surprise, however, he pulled her closer, snuggling her against him tightly.  "Then it is a good thing that not only do we have good friends like Rosemont and Enwright who will ensure that the truth never comes to light, but that I love you so very, very much that not a damn bit of what you have just told me matters."

Then, to Caroline's surprise, Marcus pulled her up the length of his very hard, very solid body and kissed her as if his life depended up on it.  Unable to help herself, she kissed him back.

The kiss was powerful, unlike anything Caroline had ever felt before.  In one instant, she was merely lying on the bed with Marcus and in the next, she felt as if she was being swept up in a tempest, tossed about like a toy boat on the Thames during a spring storm.  There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.  And she relished every moment of it.

It was unlike every other kiss they had shared.  Some of those had been mild, others heated, some designed to inflame her passions, but this one?  This one was something more, something hot and dangerous and completely fraught with danger.  She knew that if she gave in, there would be no going back.  After this, she would belong to Marcus, body and soul.

As if he sensed the same things, he pulled back and cupped her chin.  "If you do not want this Caro, tell me now.  Once we do this, you are mine.  I know that this will not be the first time I have you, certainly, but that night at my home there was too much between us.  Now, there is just you and I.  No secrets.  No lies.  Just us."

He might have meant it to be a warning, but Caroline took it as a challenge.  "I want you, Marc.  I have from that moment we waltzed at my come out.  I thought all was lost, but no longer.  Tonight, you are mine.  Longer than merely this one night, actually.  Forever and always."  Then she surged forward to kiss him, pouring everything she felt, everything she had kept bottled up for so long into that one single kiss.

She was both a little surprised and extremely grateful when Marcus responded by reaching down to pull her up the length of his body and begin fondling her breasts.  She had never thought to feel this close to him again, certain that her secrets had cost her the man she loved.  For a moment, she wondered if he was toying with her, but then she felt him begin to loosen the laces on her gown and knew that he was not.

From there, clothes were shed, whether by her hand or his she did not know and did not care.  All that she knew was that soon enough, she lay beside his naked body, basking in the feel of his heat against hers, the brush of his wiry leg hair against her smooth thigh, the slide of his muscular arm over her chest, the way the tips of his fingers toyed with her nipples.

"I love you, Caro," he whispered as he kissed the side of her neck, and she shivered as he did so.  "More than I had thought possible.  I am sorry for what I said before.  I do not know if I could ever truly stop loving you any more than I could stop the sun from rising in the sky each morning."  He was not a poetic man, but for him it was as close to romance as he could come.

Caroline trailed her fingers over his body, feeling the dulled edges of long-ago scars, reminders of the man he had once been.  Neither of them were the same people they had been as children, yet it did not seem to matter.  They had found their way back to each other.  That was the important thing.

"I cannot remember a day that I did not love you, Marc," she replied, tracing the outline of his lips with her fingertips.  "No matter where I was, you were never far from my heart."  She had thought of him every day they had been apart, at least some small fraction of her day spent wondering where he was and who he was with.

Then he was kissing her again and once more, she was lost to the sensations.  She had no idea how long they lay together, touching, kissing and caressing.  It might have been minutes or it might have been hours.  She could not tell and did not care.  All she knew was that when he pushed inside of her to claim her body once more, she felt complete and at peace.

It was the first time in her life she had ever felt truly loved and cherished.  And she adored every moment of it.