The Marker (35 page)
He laughed and tilted her head up to kiss her. “No, you’re not. You’re just mine. You’ve always been mine.” He stroked her face. This was all he had wanted from her, this honesty. After so many lies, it was good to finally hear words ringing of truth. “Tell me the rest.”
Her smile dissipated, and her pained expression wounded him. She shrugged again, as if trying to make light of her situation, which he knew troubled her more than she would ever admit. “Then Father stopped writing to me altogether, and Buchanan began. It all began innocently enough, reminding me that once my tenure was done with you, we would be wed. He offered to pay the debt more than once, but I refused every time. At least with you, I was safe. Then you took me to the ball, and Buchanan saw us. Saw me dancing with Mr. Campbell, saw how you and I interacted. He confronted me on the balcony.” She buried her face in her hands, her body shaking.
Nicholas put his arm around her shoulders and held her close to him, much as he had done that night on the balcony, when he knew—but couldn’t prove—Buchanan had threatened her. If he had known, he would have killed the man then and saved them all this heartache, but it had taken Lexie this long to confide in him. “Threatened to take my virginity that night, out on the balcony. I guess to make sure that his message had been clear enough. But I threatened to scream, and then you and Mr. Campbell came out, and it was over.
“Then you brought me here, and what happened...happened. About a month ago, he found me while I was running errands, and cornered me in an alley. He didn’t mention my virginity then, but he did say if I didn’t marry him, he’d kill you. I’m pretty certain he knows I...”
He was quiet while he waited for her to continue, though beneath the surface, he seethed. He wanted to get his gun and kill Buchanan himself, make him pay for all the pain the heartache he had brought upon Lexie. She didn’t deserve this. He wanted to tear the man’s throat out.
Eventually, she continued. “It was horrible, Nicholas, the things he said. When I came home, I found Claire’s letter in your drawer, and was relieved she offered me a way out. Buchanan wouldn’t take on the O’Connors, and I couldn’t stay with you. We were at the point of recklessness, and I was afraid you’d go public with our relationship. So I picked the fight with you and left. The O’Connors were good to me, and I was safe, at least for a time. Buchanan would never accuse them.”
He nodded. He had been ready to erase the scandal hanging over her name because she lived in his household, because he had won her from her father. “I wish you’d told me he threatened you. I could have done something about it.”
She shook her head. “He has people everywhere, even here. That’s how he knows where I am, where he can find me. You can’t do anything to him without proof, and he’ll kill you first. I know how he works. He’s a horrible man.”
A fit of temper struck Nicholas hard. Standing up and stalking away from her, he demanded, “So I’m not man enough to protect you? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No—”
“I’m such a weak-willed ninny I need a woman to save me? You’re going to save me, Lexie? Because I obviously can’t do it myself?”
“Nick—”
He wasn’t to be stopped by her protests. “Tell me, who’s going to save you? He’ll kill you when he finds out you’re not the innocent he bought. So who’s going to save you?”
She brought her eyes to his face, and before she even spoke, he saw the truth. Defeat clear in her eyes, she said, “No one.”
He rocked back on his heels when the truth hit him. “You think he’s going to kill you.”
She nodded slowly. “I know it’s a possibility.”
“But you’re still going to go to him?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll not let you do that.”
She stood up and put her hands on his chest. “I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you because of me. You have to let me do this.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “No, I don’t.” He silently studied her for a long time. “Don’t you understand, destroying you destroys us both—all three of us, in fact. It’s not your life, Lexie, it’s my life and our child’s. The moment you gave yourself to me, your problems became mine. This isn’t
your
problem to solve, this is
our
problem.”
“I can’t.”
He stroked her cheeks, bent and kissed her again. “No. You’re my woman. It’s my job as your man to make sure you’re safe, to give my life for yours if necessary. This isn’t about you anymore. It’s about us. You don’t have to do this alone.”
He heard her breath catch in her throat, and knew the moment she gave herself over to the power of his argument, knew the moment she decided not to bear her burdens alone, when she finally allowed him into her heart. She leaned her cheek against his chest, and whispered, “Oh, Nicholas, what are we going to do?”
He stroked her head. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “Let me worry about that.”
And because he knew she had to know, he sat her down and told her of his plan.
His plan was astonishing in its simplicity.
He would marry her. A scant two days later.
She couldn’t see how it would work, but he assured her it would.
Their wedding was a simple affair, with only family and close friends invited. Her father, Mrs. Ferguson, the O’Connors and James Campbell, who acted at Nicholas’s best man. James was preparing to leave in a matter of days on another business venture in the Orient, and Nicholas wanted to get the wedding done before James left, though he didn’t explain to Lexie why.
Lexie regarded her reflection in the mirror. Mrs. Ferguson had been working on her hair when Claire burst into the room, her rambunctious boys trailing in her wake.
Lexie wrapped the robe around her body. Claire, as bright and beautiful as a butterfly in a deep purple day dress, beamed at her as she held up a wedding gown. “Look what I found,” she announced.
Lexie sighed. The gown was a beautiful thing, with beading on the bodice and a short train, lace edging the bottom of the skirt and the sleeves. Lexie wouldn’t have chosen anything different if she’d been given the chance, but she couldn’t accept. “Claire, I can’t,” she said softly. “It’s
white
.”
Claire cast her a surprised glance. “So?”
Lexie cleared her throat, her gaze shifting from Claire to her boys. “Well, I’m not... You know. I’m pregnant.”
Laughing, Claire shooed the boys away. “I’d be willing a good half of the girls who wear white aren’t virgins. It’s just a color, Lexie, and it’s your wedding day.”
“Mrs. O’Connor’s right,” Mrs. Ferguson said. Since the announcement of the wedding, Mrs. Ferguson had softened in her attitude toward Claire, as if she acknowledged the part Claire had played in Nicholas’s and Lexie’s union—a union of which Mrs. Ferguson thoroughly approved. “As I recall, I wore white to my wedding.”
Lexie turned her eyes to Claire, and Claire laughed. “I wore white, too, but I made it to the wedding night.” At the expression on Lexie’s face, Claire explained. “Just barely and only because the groom gave me about four hours to prepare. It’s a long story. But you know what? Had I not made it to the wedding night, I still would have worn white. So should you. It’s beautiful and it suits you.” Claire glanced up at the clock. “You don’t want to keep your groom waiting. He seems eager to get started.”
Lexie laughed. “Over with, is more like it.”
Claire shrugged, tugging on the laces of Lexie’s corset. “Either way, in an hour, you’ll be married. I told you things would work out. I told you he’d do right by you.”
Lexie bent and began putting on the gown. “But it’s not over. Things aren’t as simple as Nicholas has made them out to be. Buchanan won’t let this die so easily.”
Claire pushed aside Lexie’s hair and began buttoning the dress, a dress so beautiful Lexie wanted to weep. She owed so much to Claire and her husband, so much to Nicholas. She had never believed she would marry for love, but today she would marry the man of her dreams. He was her other half, the one thing she could never live without. The one who had saved her.
Patting Lexie affectionately on the shoulder, Claire said, “Sometimes even the most complicated things are that simple. Your husband’s got a plan. Trust me, it will work out the way it’s supposed to.”
Lexie wished she could believe her, but in her heart, she didn’t. “Claire, I’m not you. Things don’t just work out for me. I’m not so lucky.”
Claire smiled, and Lexie caught the hint of sadness behind the glittering façade. “You’re only seeing what happens after everything works out the way it’s supposed to. Michael and I weren’t always so lucky. Once I thought the best thing for me to do was to leave him, so he wouldn’t be hurt.
Like you, Lexie
. Like Nicholas, Michael wouldn’t hear of it. Things aren’t always easy, but with love, they do tend to work out the way they’re supposed to. You need to keep the faith. Believe in your man. He knows what he’s doing.”
Lexie turned and met Claire’s gaze. “Is that what you did?”
Claire let out a breath of laughter, a small, sad smile creasing her features. “Eventually. One thing I can say is that Michael always turns up when I need him most. Whatever else happens, we always have each other. I think your Nicholas loves you the same way. I can’t say things will always be perfect, or that you won’t fight, or that he won’t make you cry, but I can say, at the end of the day, it’s worth it.” Claire paused and regarded Lexie in the mirror. “Look at yourself. You’re every ounce the bride Mr. Wetherby deserves.”
Lexie put her hand over Claire’s, a woman who had swiftly become the closest thing Lexie had ever had to a sister. Soon she would have her own family: a husband and a baby on the way, and loyal friends. It seemed too good to be true, and Lexie had never been foolish enough to believe love would win out. Maybe she had never had anything she wanted enough to believe in it. She
wanted
this.
When Lexie looked at her reflection in the mirror, she saw a glowing bride. The bride Nicholas deserved.
There was no music, just the two of them, their guests, and a preacher, standing in Nicholas’s formal dining room. She thought she would miss the finery of music, of a church wedding, but she didn’t. Claire’s boys squealed in the background as she made her way toward her groom, their laughter filling the room, and Lexie couldn’t have asked for better music than the laughter of children. Just as she couldn’t have asked for a better groom.
Lexie’s breath caught in her throat when she saw him, standing in front of the large windows overlooking the garden. Dressed in a dark suit, pale shirt, and the crimson waistcoat he had worn to the Governor’s ball, he took her breath away. When he turned his turquoise eyes to her, love lit his bright eyes, and Lexie was struck by a wave of unexpected emotion.
This beautiful, perfect, noble man was to be her husband.
Even with all of her baggage, he had accepted her without reservation or question. The thought still stunned her.
Nicholas held out his hand to her, and she accepted it. He smiled gently, a smile meant only for her, and her heart melted. As their guests took their seats, Lexie noted her father was not present. She thought she would have been angry, but she wasn’t. Everything and everyone she needed was in this room with her.
“I love you, Nicholas,” she said softly, for his ears only. Somehow, it seemed appropriate she would tell him she loved him for the first time on the day they got married.
The expression on his face—shocked, tender, filled with love—caused her heart to pitch furiously in her chest. His arm tightened beneath her palm, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“I love you, too, Lexie,” he whispered back, his voice rough with emotion.
Just as the preacher began to speak, a crack rang out as the doors burst open, Buchanan striding in with her father. “This wedding cannot take place! The woman is mine!” he roared.
Before she had even turned around, O’Connor had already risen from his seat. Calling to Claire, he said, “Boys.”
And working as if they had had to do this before, Claire rose and wrangled her children out of the room before anyone else really had time to react. Nicholas patted her arm and said softly, “Go with Mrs. O’Connor, love.”
Lexie notched her chin stubbornly. “No, Nicholas. This is my mess, and I need to clean it up.”
Nicholas gave her a quick kiss. “Stay back here with the preacher. This will be over soon.” He moved away to address Buchanan, his strides purposeful and unafraid.
“That woman is mine! I have a contract!” Buchanan roared at Nicholas when he approached. Buchanan’s face was florid with fury, as if an artery might burst in his head. Lexie found herself hoping one would.
“Do you have a copy of this contract?” James asked, his voice unperturbed.
He reached into his pocket, and O’Connor’s hand snaked out, grabbing the older man by the wrist. “I think not,” he said, his brogue heavy. “Allow me.” He reached into Buchanan’s coat and retrieved the paperwork, handing it to James. Lexie, ignoring Nicholas’s dictate to remain with the reverend, approached the circle of men.
