Nicholas couldn’t help but feel sorry for Claire, while at the same time he thought of how the lady would retaliate. She did not seem the type to let go of a grudge. Perhaps he chose the wrong side. Perhaps his life with her, however brief, would be more bearable if he gave her this one favor. But it was too late now. Dear Ms. Abbott had withdrawn her hand and was now looking at him with those beautiful eyes, which looked less bright than it did when she got her seat back.

Nevertheless, his alleged father answered for him. “We have just recently purchased a manor in Kensington. The property is already under Nick’s name,” he assured the duke.

Nick had no idea that such a property was purchased under his name and that they already had a house to live in. He and Bennett better speak about planning and its benefits once the lunch was over, for he couldn’t tolerate any more surprises. It was a good thing that the details of his married life was already planned for him that he needed not to worry where to live after the ceremony - the support agents working with Bennett must be truly efficient to have acquired a property in such a short notice – but information was his trade and with the lack of it, he was incapacitated.

He thanked the servant who served his dessert then said to Claire, “It is a beautiful piece of architecture. I hope to bring you there, but I believe minor construction is still on going.”

“Fortunately for the lady, Nick, the minor restorations you commissioned were finished yesterday. With the permission of Lord Abbott, it is indeed a good idea to show the estate to Ms. Abbott.”

What?!

So much for small talk. A mixture of surprise and annoyance flashed briefly on his face as he allowed himself to glare at Bennett. What was his handler doing? Until a few moments earlier, he had no idea that such a property existed, now Bennett was encouraging him to take his future wife to the mystery manor house? Had Bennett gone crazy?

When Nick turned to the duke, his face wore his polite, neutral expression again. “With your permission, Lord Abbott,” he looked at Claire. “Would you like to see the manor with me?” And get away from this awful, conversation? he wanted to add, but couldn’t. In a way, he was granting her a favor by making a way for her to be excused. She might not like the idea of being alone with him again, but at least he tried to give her a choice between staying with their fathers or enduring his company.

Claire watched the Rochford’s with interest, wondering what this newly bought estate could look like. Would it be as large as her current home? Very doubtful, but since she wouldn’t be there very often it wasn’t anything to worry about. Though the thought of their new home did remind her of a very big part of getting married…their shared bed.

The young woman really had done her best to not give away her body just for information. So far she had been the middleman; one who passed information along so things didn’t look suspicious. Now that she was bringing things to the next level, that was next to impossible. Maybe it wouldn’t feel so shameful if her first time was with a husband? At least that is what she told herself. At any rate, she was supposed to be an expert in bed and if things went as planned Nick would soon find out that was a lie. So many lies, so many secrets that she couldn’t even enjoy the a single part of this marriage. Claire sighed to herself, bringing herself back to the conversation. Something about renovations…they must have much, much more money than she realized.

“Fortunately for the lady, Nick, the minor restorations you commissioned were finished yesterday. With the permission of Lord Abbott, it is indeed a good idea to show the estate to Ms. Abbott.”

Claire perked up, looking from Mr. Rochford to her father, then back again. Did he mean right then?

Nick didn’t look terribly pleased, but he offered all the same. “Would you like to see the manor with me?”

It was hard to hide her excitement. Afterall it was to be her new home, and the only place she’d ever lived was the place she was now. Plus getting away from her father sounded like a dream come true. “Oh, please father I would love to go see it!” It may be with Nick, but it was a better option than sitting with Nick plus two.

It was the first positive reaction he’d gotten from her in a long time, how could he say no? “Well, Mr. Rochford if you think it’s a good idea…” he replied hesitantly, disappointed their lunch was ending quickly. But he couldn’t complain- the marriage was happening, and Claire wasn’t arguing anymore.

“It is, Father, thank you!” she said, and he stood as she got up in a hurry. “I’ll go change into something else and I’ll be right down, Nick.” With that Claire stepped forward to give her father a quick peck on the cheek and hurried upstairs, telling her personal servant to help her into a beautiful maroon dress that went well with her strawberry blonde up-do. Within ten minutes she was coming back down, tugging on a pair of lace gloves that came to just below her elbows. “Is it very far, to the estate? Does it have a yard, anything planted outside?” Claire asked, coming to stand at Nick’s side. It was time to forget about the stresses of the war, of the wedding, and her job. Her fiancée may not be the perfect company, but she would make the best of it for now.

The lady’s abrupt change in mood surprised Nick. Had he known that it took a new property to appease Ms. Abbott, he would have insisted on keeping the information about their new house to himself until such a time when he could use it against Claire’s tantrums. The three gentlemen got up after Claire did with the duke muttering something about women as he led his guests to the front parlor.

Both Lord Abbott and Mr. Bennett continued discussing about the details of the marriage – the time, who to invite, and of course, who not to invite. He wanted to pull his alleged father aside and ask him about the specifics of this particular plan of his, but the old man was indisposed at the moment. However, he did manage to make a quick hand signal telling Nick that everything was in place. Though a bit annoyed, it left him with no other choice but to trust the turns of events as orchestrated by his handler.

After a few minutes, Nick turned to the sound of her shoes tapping against the wood and was granted the pleasure of watching Ms. Abbott pulling a glove up her arm. She had changed – thankfully – to a more fashionable dress. He almost thought that his future wife, though of means, was not only unbearably high born but also lacked fashion sense. Her chosen dress with the gloves was far better than the one she wore to lunch. Surprisingly, he liked it on her. The dark color complimented her pale hair and complexion, not to mention emphasized her very feminine form. Nick almost smiled upon seeing her cheeks flushed from her hasty change in clothing and her eyes bright with excitement.

“Is it very far, to the estate? Does it have a yard, anything planted outside?”

Despite his dislike for highborn lords and ladies, he was amused with Claire’s reaction. She looked very excited and happy even with him standing so close to her that he almost felt as excited and happy as her. “I refuse to preempt the surprise, Ms. Abbott. You shall discover the answers in a short while,” he chuckled, offering his arm to her. Nick decided that he liked this part of Claire better. “We shall not be too long, father. Lord Abbott.”

“I trust you to take care of my daughter, Nicholas,” the duke disguised his command in a statement.

Nick placed his gloved hand over Claire’s hand on his arm then replied with a firm promise. “I will, my lord,” he replied, smiling.

The couple walked to the waiting closed carriage of the Rochfords, with their fathers following close behind. “Bring them to the Kensington property, Robert,” said Bennett as Nick helped Claire up. He climbed in after her and took residence on the bench opposite hers.

“It is not too far away from your home, Ms. Abbott,” he commented when the carriage started moving. “I want you to feel comfortable in it, so whatever you see, is only temporary. We will have it fitted to your needs – even our shared bedroom.” It was a topic that they had to discuss eventually. Like him, Claire was not a willing participant in this marriage. He was no gentleman, but to keep their relationship as pleasant as possible, he thought it might be best to act like one.

Nick took off his hand and placed it on the space beside him, then focused his attention to Claire. Inside the moving carriage, their worlds were reduced to the space within. At the moment, there was just Nick and Claire. “I understand that you are not entering into this marriage willingly and I cannot force you to.” Nor did he want to. He just needed her out of his way and one way. “So until we’re both ready, let us decide who sleeps on the bed.” And he would not give way without a fight. He did a gentlemanly act by considering not to take advantage of her, that was enough good deed for the project. His comfort need not be sacrificed.

”We will have it fitted to your needs – even our shared bedroom.”

She could redecorate? It sounded appealing, and frankly he made her feel much more like an adult going into the situation than her father had. It was probably him just trying to keep her quiet, and while she hated to it admit it to him it looked like it was working. Their bedroom would have nothing less than a canopy bedframe, sheer fabric along the top and silky sheets to curl up in. But considering his wording Claire had a feeling he wasn’t exactly asking for her opinion on furniture.

“I understand that you are not entering into this marriage willingly and I cannot force you to. So until we’re both ready, let us decide who sleeps on the bed.”

Claire held back a snort of a laugh, though her lips curled up into a thin smile. There went the idea he was marrying her for sex, there must be something else to it. Or…or maybe not. Perhaps because she had secrets, she was assuming he had some as well. Maybe Nicholas Rochford was just a man who had a lot of pride and wanted a highborn wife. She was just reading into this too much…and might as well have a little fun with him.

“Well if that’s what you think is best then I’m sure there’s a wonderful guest bedroom down the hall that you can stay in,” she replied, doing her best to keep looking straight and not start laughing. “Surely you don’t expect me to find a room other than my own to sleep in. I’d sleep with you before I look like the terrible wife that stays in the second bedroom. I’m sure the bed will be just as nice. Besides, all you need is a bed, closet, and bathroom. You’ll be all right,” Claire said, finally giving a small giggle and looking directly at him.

”With all due respect, madam,” Nick started, fighting to hide the amusement from his face. She looked so pleased with herself, she was even giggling. Was she toying with him? “I will not be sleeping in a separate bedroom.”

There were several logical reasons why sleeping in separate bedrooms was a bad idea. First was that it would give the house servants something to talk about, which in turn might catch the duke’s attention. Nick didn’t want Lord Abbott’s attention more than what was necessary. He was the gateway into the House of Lords, and to be able to use him, Nick had to be the best husband that Lord Abbott’s daughter could ever dream of. The other reason he thought was that the said rumor might suggest, though implicitly, that Nicholas Rochford IV had his interest resting on other options, someone who had anatomical parts that Ms. Abbott lacked. He would personally see to it that the second consequence of separating bedrooms would have no chance of happening.

But… Realization dawned on him too late, he had already proposed to her to sleep in separate beds. Could it be that she was thinking that he did prefer other partners? There was nothing wrong with her anyway. She was a beautiful lady, who, with what her dresses revealed, had her curves in all the right places. He should be happy to be marrying this woman. Nick especially liked the way her eyes lit up when she had something mischievous in mind like a few moments back when she talked to him about how he should sleep somewhere else. Her hair, he could just imagine him running his hands on its silky length. And then, as if having a life of their own, his eyes traveled further down his face, to her long slender neck, following her smooth exposed skin down her collar bone and into where skin ad clothes met. After they got married, no matter that it was fake, she was going to be his, and he was definitely not gay.

Nick cleared his throat. “Our bedroom will have a couch where the person not using the bed can sleep for the night. I suggest, to give both of us a fair chance, that we agree on a contest and whoever wins, will have the bed for a night.” That way they can both stay and watch the other one suffer.

”With all due respect, madam, I will not be sleeping in a separate bedroom.”

“If that’s what you think, Nicholas,” Claire replied with a smirk, looking down at her hands in her lap. Sounded like neither of them were giving in on something simple, and they weren’t even married yet!

“Our bedroom will have a couch where the person not using the bed can sleep for the night. I suggest, to give both of us a fair chance, that we agree on a contest and whoever wins, will have the bed for a night.”

Claire looked up at him, smiling again. “Oh, I will certainly take you up on that,” she laughed, putting a finger to her lips as she considered a few options. “What do you think the contest should be? What about something with our horses? We could race, if you’re all right with that,” she offered, sounding excited. “Or perhaps we could jump with them? I’ve trained in both.”

The facts still stood, as humorous as the conversation was. Nick didn’t plan on sleeping with her anytime soon. “Nick, may I ask you something?” Claire shifted in her seat, unsure how to approach the subject. They were already halfway there, though, and she might not get this opportunity for a while. “I may not understand why you want to marry me, and you’re right, this isn’t exactly how I pictured my life playing out, but there are still things I’d like to have.” Surely they were things he wanted as well.

“I’d like to start a family. Have a couple children, perhaps more. Not now,” she assured him quickly, “not with the war going on and things so uncertain.” And her so busy with her extracurricular activities. “But one day. When we’re ready.” Claire knew she was different, knew she was currently doing things that everyone would frown upon, but surely one day she could quit and fulfill her want of a happy family with little ones. Was it so strange to want something to simple, to look at the positives of her future? “I don’t believe that you actually love me, Nick, but I bet you could love our children. Just picture it! Playing in the yard, maybe a dog there too. Hopefully she’ll look like her mother, though,” Claire laughed. “I know you’re not one to be tied down, I can tell with your flirting for the sake of your business, but you wouldn’t have to be with us often. I could handle things at home.”

The lady was confident that she could boss him around as easily as she might have ordered around those men who she had an affair with. Well, if she was not your typical London woman, then Nicholas was certainly not a gentleman. He was beginning to regret trying to act like one by bringing up the topic of their bedroom arrangement. There was just the thought that she might not be comfortable sharing the bed with him – a complete stranger. He forgot who he was talking to. This was Claire Abbott, famed adulteress of London’s high society, the lowest hanging fruit, according to Bennett. Perhaps he didn’t need to act all gentlemanlike around her.

She shifted her attention to him again, smiling a smile that reached her eyes. He must admit that he liked that look she was giving him, as if there was something positively evil running in her head. “Oh, I will certainly take you up on that,” she said laughing. “What do you think the contest should be? What about something with our horses? We could race, if you’re all right with that. Or perhaps we could jump with them? I’ve trained in both.”

Nick frowned at her, though he couldn’t fight the irresistible urge to grin at how absurd it was to challenge a person in his profession to race on horseback. He was not just trained he learned the hard way that speed could be the fine line between life and death. Then again, she had no idea who this man sitting across her was. Nick decided to let the frown go and instead cocked a brow at her. His grin turned lopsided as he answered, “If you believe yourself a better rider than I, then by all means let’s agree to race and whoever loses, takes the couch.”

“Nick, may I ask you something?”

He was not ready to let go of the argument, it was kind of fun disagreeing with her, but Claire’s tone implied that it was over. Whether or not they really would race to decide who sleeps in the bed would wait until whatever she intended to discuss was over. Nick slowly assumed a sober expression and nodded at her.

She seemed hesitant to say whatever it was she wanted to discuss, but the lady gathered her guts and continued, “I may not understand why you want to marry me, and you’re right, this isn’t exactly how I pictured my life playing out, but there are still things I’d like to have. I’d like to start a family. Have a couple children, perhaps more. Not now, not with the war going on and things so uncertain, but one day. When we’re ready.”

Nicholas leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees then he reached for her gloved hands on her lap to cover it with one of his own. “Claire…” he said as soft as a whisper, testing her name as it rolled out of his tongue for the first time.

“I don’t believe that you actually love me, Nick,” she admitted, cutting him off. “But I bet you could love our children. Just picture it! Playing in the yard, maybe a dog there too. Hopefully she’ll look like her mother, though. I know you’re not one to be tied down, I can tell with your flirting for the sake of your business, but you wouldn’t have to be with us often. I could handle things at home.”
For the first time he felt sorry for marrying Ms. Abbott. She had nothing to do with the mess happening inside Queen Victoria’s military organization. Despite everything about her that was unlike every woman in London, she was still a woman instilled with a dream to build a family and live a simple and yet happy life. It was a kind of life that he could never give her. If anything, he coming into her life was only to give her pain, because as Bennett said, Nicholas Rochford IV shall die at the end of the assignment.

Nick allowed himself to smile a small sad smile. “I am happy to build a family with you, Claire,” he said. A lie and an empty promise. He wouldn’t want to father a child who he might not even get the chance to see born into the world. “And yes, we will keep a dog. Dogs are nice enough animals, not much better than horses, but it will be interesting to keep a dog. And our first child will be a boy, who will look like his father.” Emphasis was placed on how their first boy would look like him. It was unintended, and he hoped she didn’t catch it, but she thought he was a flirt, he believed that she was unfaithful.

He pulled his hand back and straightened in his seat then looked out the window. They were already in Kensington. Once the carriage stopped he would have to assume that whatever was in front of them was the property that he was supposed to have purchased. “I don’t think you love me. We are getting married for our families’ sake. Just like you, my father arranged this for me and as the heir, it is my responsibility to act for the betterment of my family’s name. Being attached to yours is quite something.” Nick watched the landscape from the window as he spoke. What he said was not completely a lie. “I had wished for a simpler life, but this is the hand dealt to us, we might as well make the most of it. You’re a wonderful woman, Ms. Abbott. I will not be surprised to find myself falling in love with you.” Now that was a lie. If there was one thing that was ultimately forbidden to agents such as him, it was to mix his personal feelings with his work. At the moment, Claire was a vital part of his work.

Claire blinked, staring at Nicholas for a few moments even after he’d finished speaking. “Mr. Rochford,” she suddenly grinned, reaching up to gently brush her hand against his cheek. “I do believe that was the most honest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. Thank you. That’s all I’ve wanted from you!” Claire let out a deep sigh, dropping her hand back to her lap again. “This entire time, all this silly fake romance and putting up fronts, and you’re being forced into this just as much as I am!”

Even as the carriage started to slow she kept her eyes on him, a content smile on her dark pink lips. “No more lying about why we’re here or what we want. Doesn’t this feel better? Yes, we’re both unhappy, but I feel like things are better now. Though that last bit sounded a little silly…you don’t know if I’m a wonderful person. Not yet, and that’s all right. I probably won’t be wonderful for quite some time, Nick. I enjoy making you miserable all too much,” she laughed, feeling them come to a stop.

“And Nicholas? I would love for my boy to look like you. He will. So enough of that, please?” she asked, her smile fading just a bit. “Ready to show me around? I’m excited to get a look at my bed,” Claire added, feeling the warm air come into the carriage as someone opened the side door.

There was nothing wrong, he thought, in indulging in a rare moment of cease fire between him and his bride-to-be. Especially because the day was starting to feel like it would be another long one and the sad news was that they were only halfway done. Therefore, Nicholas closed his eyes and leaned to her touch, listening to her soft melodic voice.

“I do believe that was the most honest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. Thank you. That’s all I’ve wanted from you!”

His blue eyes fluttered open in response to her gloved hand leaving his cheek so soon. Those words and the sincerity backing it made him feel a bit guilty. She would never make the assignment easy.

“This entire time, all this silly fake romance and putting up fronts, and you’re being forced into this just as much as I am!”

“I had to. I had hoped to win you over and make this easier for both you and I,” he said, turning to face her. They both participated in a contest of wills, staring into the other person’s face, smiling their personal versions of a content smile, and not wanting to be the first to break eye contact.

“No more lying about why we’re here or what we want,” Claire continued, still watching him with her bright eyes. ”Doesn’t this feel better? Yes, we’re both unhappy, but I feel like things are better now. Though that last bit sounded a little silly…you don’t know if I’m a wonderful person. Not yet, and that’s all right. I probably won’t be wonderful for quite some time, Nick. I enjoy making you miserable all too much,”

“As far as London is concerned, Ms. Abbott,” he sighed in fake disappointment while she laughed. “You are very different.” And difficult, he wanted to add. “And as your husband, I promise, with all my heart, to retaliate no matter how petty your issue might be.”

“And Nicholas? I would love for my boy to look like you. He will. So enough of that, please? Ready to show me around? I’m excited to get a look at my bed,”

Nick didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped out of the carriage first then helped her down. He took advantage of their close proximity and leaned close to her ear to whisper, “I’m sure you would want our boy to look like me as I am – according to more than one reliable source – a painfully handsome gentleman.” Then he offered his arm while wearing his most charming smile.

They stood on a five-acre property of neatly trimmed grass and strategically planted trees – one even served as shade to the couple. The house itself rested on a small hill, elevated from the surrounding, which allowed them a beautiful view of their land and neighbors. Tree-lined cobbled stone path traced about half a kilometer from the iron gates, passing through a bridge over a pond, to the façade of their house. Had he not supposed to have seen the property already, Nick would have panicked, but standing beside Claire, he assumed a confident face. “Do you like it so far?” he asked.
The house itself was an L-shaped three-storey mansion, covering a floor area of 12,000 square meters. Its walls were of red bricks and limestone, put together to match the latest in architecture in England. He led her up the stairs to the front porch where the double doors were opened by none other than the Rochfords’ townhouse butler.

“Robert,” he acknowledged the other man’s presence. “Is the master’s bedroom prepared?”

“Not quite, sir,” Robert replied. He was generally a polite man of mid-forties, but Nicholas and Claire turning up at the door and looking for the bedroom might have had forced inappropriate thoughts in his mind. He covered the pause up with a well-studied clearing of his throat. “Some of the furniture, not just for your bedroom, has not yet arrived.”

Nick didn’t seem to notice. “I would like to show Ms. Abbott the room, for her approval,” he said. The older man had no cause to argue. He led the couple up the staircase and into their room. Much to his disappointment, the door opened to a very bare, but admittedly very spacious room with enough windows to light the space up.

“I’m sure you would want our boy to look like me as I am – according to more than one reliable source – a painfully handsome gentleman.”

“Oh! Is that so?” Her mouth dropped at his all too obvious vain statement, once again showing her his true colors. Claire laughed and shook her head, knowing she couldn’t respond. There were others around, so their playful banter would have to end for now. Besides, as soon as she laid eyes on the property all frustration at Nicholas’ arrogance vanished. “Oh…Nick,” she whispered, taking his arm and squeezing him close in excitement. “Home is beautiful, but it’s much older than this. This-…this is absolutely gorgeous. I love the little pond over there, it would be the perfect place to pick up a book or have a picnic, don’t you think?”

“Do you like it so far?”

Claire nodded, walking closer to the entrance with him right beside her. “I do. I expected a lot less, to be perfectly honest, but…it does make me happy.”

Nicholas spoke to Robert about the master bedroom, and the question had Claire hiding a smile. It didn’t take long to get there, even though she kept pulling Nicholas back when she would stop to admire a room they passed or the simple beauty in the staircase handrail. Robert had been right, she quickly saw. The room was bare. Yet she still nodded, her heels clicking against the wood floors as she let go of Nicholas and walked to the middle of the room.

“Hold on, you’ve already ordered new furniture and you’re telling me I can change whatever I want?” she asked, turning to face him. “That seems a bit foolish to me. I trust you chose what would look best, at least for now. If the estate were horribly ugly I would be a bit more wary, but with the right pieces in here…” Again she turned, her arms out like she were about to start dancing. “This place will look like a dream.” Claire hated admitting this was his doing, but credit needed to be given where it was due. “I’m impressed. Thank you, Nicholas. Now let’s see. The bed will go right here,” she said, pointing to where she was standing, “And the couch will go over in that corner there. That way I can watch you curled up like a dog while I fall asleep.”

Again that joyful look filled her eyes as she came back to him, her gloved hands folded in front of her. “May I see the rest of the estate? I’d like to postpone going back as long as possible…”

Nick watched Claire enter the room like an engrossed child. If she was faking all the excitement and the sudden kindness towards him, then she was an excellent actress. She didn’t seem to even notice that she had left her place by his side and walked towards the middle of the room on her own. Robert, now carrying Nick’s hat, stood some paces from the double doors, while Nick leaned on the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He felt the box in his breast pocket poking at his forearm.

“Hold on, you’ve already ordered new furniture and you’re telling me I can change whatever I want?” She suddenly asked, turning sharply towards him. Nick responded with an innocent look.

“I… uh…” he tried, but decided to finish the sentence with, “Of course you can,” plus a charming smile.

To which she answered, “That seems a bit foolish to me. I trust you chose what would look best, at least for now. If the estate were horribly ugly I would be a bit more wary, but with the right pieces in here…” Her voice echoed in the empty room, high-pitched with excitement. He thought she would start twirling around dancing. Her happiness exuded from her and it was contagious. He found himself wanting to walk up to her and twirl her around if she was not going to do it herself. Perhaps some other time when they attended a ball as a married couple. “This place will look like a dream.”

”I’m impressed. Thank you, Nicholas. Now let’s see. The bed will go right here,” she pointed where she wanted his bed to be, but since it would be his, there was no point in listening to her right then. “And the couch will go over in that corner there. That way I can watch you curled up like a dog while I fall asleep. May I see the rest of the estate? I’d like to postpone going back as long as possible…”

Nick chuckled. “If all you wanted is to watch me sleeping, I can sleep somewhere else more accessible,” he said with that lopsided grin of his as he met her halfway. He stopped in front of Claire, close enough to look her down or grab her. He did the latter, because the lady stood only up to Nick’s chin. “Then again, the question is whether or not you shall have the privilege of sleeping on the bed,” he smirked, then he looked over his shoulder and added for Robert, “None of this is to be mentioned to my father.”

The butler bowed in obeisance. Nick casually placed an arm around Claire’s shoulder steering her out of the room. “This way, your most royal highness,” he declared, his voice resounding in the room. He led her to the door and walked straight, following the corridor. “We continue the tour around your kingdom. Robert, please lead the way.”

“Naturally, sir,” the Butler answered. Even if Robert’s brown hair was starting to gray, the gentleman was fit enough to walk faster than his master. “Please follow me.”

He led the tour of the house, from the master’s bedroom to the guest bedrooms and the servant quarters. Each room was sized and designed differently, but in the latest fashion. One or two were even reserved for the future children of the couple, these rooms were already fully furnished. It made him wonder who really was in–charge of preparing the house, because the how illogical was it to furnish rooms whish were less likely to be used first.

After the bedrooms, the butler led them to the kitchen on the first floor. It was also a large room with enough windows to be airy and comfortable. Nick thought that it had the capacity to cook for a party, which led him to ask, “Robert, I remember we have a ballroom?”

“Yes, you do, sir.” He nodded. “Would you like to inspect it next?”

“Yes, please.” Then to Claire he said, “You can organize dinner parties better than any dinner party ever organized in London. No doubt your guests would say nothing but praises. But there’s something I need to tell you,” he paused, staring ahead instead of looking at her. “The guests cannot stay until midnight. The noise will disturb the spirits roaming the halls.”

Robert cleared his throat. He turned on a corner and followed the corridor again until they were met by yet another double door. However that one was taller and grander than their bedroom’s door. Without warning, the butler pushed one of the doors open and they were welcomed into the section of the house that was two storey high, with balconies around the perimeter.

“This is your grand ballroom, Mr. Rochford,” the butler introduced. “The library, I believe is almost as large, but at the moment the book collection of yourself and your father’s is still in York.”

“This way, your most royal highness. We continue the tour around your kingdom. Robert, please lead the way.”

Claire was actually warming up to her fiancée, if only for the day. “Finally, someone sees me for what I truly am,” she laughed, taking his arm and following Robert throughout their soon-to-be home. She did think it was funny how the other bedroom already had furniture, but she didn’t comment. Maybe theirs was just that magnificent?

When he mentioned dinner parties Claire visibly pouted, hating the idea of spending her time on such silliness. Unlike most married women who owned a house this large she had a job to do, and an important one at that. Surely parties could be put off for a while. “Wait. You’re joking,” she asked with narrowed eyes, an uncertain grin on her face. “Spirits don’t actually exist! I’ve never seen one, and I don’t believe in things I cannot see, Nicholas, except God himself. You’ll have to either show me one or stop speaking like a child,” she informed him. “Talking about ghosts isn’t a very nice way to introduce me to the estate, you know!”

“The library, I believe is almost as large, but at the moment the book collection of yourself and your father’s is still in York.”

Claire was walking along one of the near windows within the ballroom, admiring the outside view when she heard Robert go on. “Is that where you’re originally from?” she asked, turning back to look at him. “Do you have any family besides your father? Siblings, your mother?”

It was a gorgeous room, the floor looking as if it were just polished that morning. It really would be a grand place to host events. “Nick,” Claire sighed, holding out her hands for him to take as she came back to stand in front of him, “you said you always wanted a simple life. Why are you pushing for this grand, overdone wedding, then?” A wedding, then parties…it was beginning to sound like she would be talking to everyone in England…

Perhaps she could turn this around yet. “When Father says everyone will be there, does he mean all those fancy men in uniforms, too? The higher-ups doing all that work and planning to defend our country and honor in this war?” Yes, play the part of the ignorant woman who only pays attention to titles and flashy clothing. It made her want to gag, but nobody was afraid to part important information to someone who seemed innocent, especially if it gave them their five minutes of fame in front of the ladies. “If we must have this wedding, if we can’t just run off and have the ceremony ourselves, then I do wish to meet all of them. I have so much respect for anyone willing to put their lives on the line for this country, don’t you?” Right. Put their lives out there needlessly, when it wasn’t even their war to fight. Why Britain would get involved in the first place was beyond her, for it had been explained to her that Russia was only trying to expand land for better ports so they could trade. Was that so wrong? And as for the religion aspect of it, as far as she knew Russia was doing what was best for the Ottoman Empire. She hadn’t seen it that way at first, but after multiple conversations she finally saw it the “way things really were”. And Britain was in the wrong for interfering.

“Perhaps after meeting them we could have them over for one of our ballroom parties.” Or if they got to the right people, a private dinner would be even better. “Even they need to relax and forget the troubles of the world,” she commented, slipping her hands away from his and laying them on his chest. This house was helping her forget her own. It was a terrible shame she couldn’t fully enjoy it like a wife should be able to.

“I was raised in York by my father,” he answered from a few paces behind her. This story was already ironed out by him and his handler before they both assumed the name Rochford. “My mother died when I was two. My father remarried, but his second wife, together with my younger sister, left us for another man. So to answer your question, I do have a mother and a sibling somewhere in this world.”

Beyond the windows was the garden, which was being restored to what he imagined was its previous glorious state. He had no idea who originally owned the house or how long had it been vacant, but from the looks of it, restorations were indeed being made. And now that the existence of the property was already disclosed to him, he was fairly certain that Mr. Bennett would want Nick to take care of the remaining work to be done to the house. As if his current workload was not enough.

”Nick.”

He looked away from the ivy crawling up one of the benches in the garden then to Claire. She was holding out her hand. Without thinking, he took it in his and gently tugged her closer to him. The pair stood at the far end of the ballroom, with the orangey glow of the afternoon sunlight penetrated through the windows to light up the room. Their shadows were cast long on the floor at their feet – a man and a woman staring into each other’s eyes.

“You said you always wanted a simple life. Why are you pushing for this grand, overdone wedding, then?” She asked. There were women who looked more beautiful in the dark, but he thought Claire was a more pleasing specimen to observe in the brightness of the day, when all her features came together like a painting commissioned to a master.

It was his turn to sigh. “I have a reputation to build, Ms. Abbott. I already told you the reason I am interested in marrying you. It’s not for love,” he smiled at her. “At least not yet. My father wanted to show how deep our pockets are, and if he had to spend half the family’s fortune to make our wedding day the most talked about event for the rest of the year then he would empty our treasury. It has to do with publicity, and publicly attaching my family name to yours.”

She seemed to have bought it, because Claire let the issue go and started with another one. “When Father says everyone will be there, does he mean all those fancy men in uniforms, too? The higher-ups doing all that work and planning to defend our country and honor in this war? If we must have this wedding, if we can’t just run off and have the ceremony ourselves, then I do wish to meet all of them. I have so much respect for anyone willing to put their lives on the line for this country, don’t you?”

“I suppose most of them will be present.” Especially those who were given title and land by the crown. These were the important people of London and one of these men was the key to tear down the enemy’s information network. Lives of the brave soldiers of England were at stake. Many already fell, and more would follow, perhaps even his own brother, if the leak in information was not stopped.

“Perhaps after meeting them we could have them over for one of our ballroom parties. Perhaps after meeting them we could have them over for one of our ballroom parties,” she added as she freed her hand from his and transferred it to his chest.

“Now, my dear Ms. Abbott,” he objected. “Such statements make me jealous. Do you wish to inform me that you prefer the company of men in uniform more than mine?”

Nick took her hand from his chest and placed it on his arm. They had been gone for hours and the duke might be worried about his daughter. Besides, spending the afternoon with Claire had been entertaining, too entertaining for his taste. She was not like how he imagined her to be, certainly not like the stiff lady he met at the dinner party a few nights back.

“I have something for you,” remembered, feeling the box poke at his chest again. It was a three by five inch box that he stuffed in his breast pocket. Nick retrieved the package and opened it to show a row of garnet in a silver chain. The stones varied in size, the smallest were the ones at each end, it increased in size until the diamond-bordered centerpiece of the jewelry.

”Now, my dear Ms. Abbott,” he objected. “Such statements make me jealous. Do you wish to inform me that you prefer the company of men in uniform more than mine?”

“What?” Claire gasped, quickly reviewing what she’d said in her mind to get why he would say such a thing. “Nick, no, I swear that’s not my intention,” she quickly tried to reassure him. Funny, a few hours ago she wouldn’t have care what he thought, but now him thinking she was the cheating, lying woman everyone else saw her as was disheartening. He was her husband, or at least would be. She may have an important job to do and different priorities than everyone else, but Claire Abbot still held family as something to be treasured. Especially after seeing those little beds that would one day hold her children…

“I just- if you want to build your name up in society, they would be the perfect people to associate with. I’ll keep in mind why you are marrying me when have our little get-togethers,“ she added, a little put out by how often the topic of her leaving him had come up. Was this really how it would be for the rest of their lives, her assignment making it look like she was a deceitful wife? “Despite what you think, I do have a few morals, Nicholas.”

Claire was ready to leave. The place was gorgeous, but she would have the rest of her days to look upon the growing landscape and large, empty rooms. Yet as soon as she lowered her hands and opened her mouth to suggest they go Nicholas pulled his tiny gift out. It was unexpected to say the least, but she quietly and impatiently waited to see what was within the tiny box.

“Oh…” It was beautiful and had to be worth quite a bit. But more than the money, he actually got her something and was giving it while not in front of her father or a crowd of people. Better yet, he knew there was no reason to fake any amount of adoration with her. “Nicholas, I don’t understand,” she whispered, reaching out to touch the diamonds, her eyes glistening in awe, “I agreed to marry you, there’s no reason for this.” Yet she couldn’t deny the thought was sweet. He may have ulterior motives for marrying her, but Nicholas didn’t seem like the villain she had made him out to be. In a moment of complete spontaneity and for the sake of giving this arranged relationship a shot Claire stepped forward and leaned close enough to place a simple, gentle kiss on Nick’s lips. It was quick but lasted long enough for him to know it meant more than as a thank you. He may have gifts and a house to show, but she wanted to be the one to make the first move romantically if anyone was going to. Besides…it was kind of nice. His lips were soft, inviting, and it sent a spark through her body to the pit of her stomach. She had experienced less kisses than he probably would believe.

“It’s absolutely gorgeous. Will you help me put it on?” she asked with a sly grin, turning around and moving the few strands of hair that had fallen from her up-do so the chain wouldn’t catch on them. “This has been…better than I expected, at least. I suppose the next time I’ll see you, you’ll be the one at the end of the aisle and I’ll be in that lovely white dress, hm? I still plan on letting someone else pick everything else- I could care less. Except for that dress…perhaps I’ll talk to the tailor about it,” she said thoughtfully, as if speaking to herself now.

Good heavens! How much money did England plan on spending for him? First the grand wedding, then there was this over the top estate, and finally he opened the present for Ms. Abbott. All the money that the queen and the parliament were pouring down its little secret service department was overwhelming. It made him feel more than just a bit anxious as to what his superiors’ expectations were. But that was a topic better discussed with Mr. Lawrence Bennett.

For the moment, Nick reveled in the surprise that registered in her face upon seeing his gift. Her eyes, those eyes he would most certainly adore, went wide and her lips produced a single syllable. ”Oh…” His lips curved at the ends. He was possibly as surprised as she was when he saw the expensive piece of jewelry, but Nick had mastered the art of looking confident and all-knowing.

“Nicholas, I don’t understand. I agreed to marry you, there’s no reason for this,” she said, running her dainty fingers on the shining stones. He would have had a witty or a charming come back, but Ms. Abbott had it her way. Without waiting for him to explain the gift, the lady tip toed and quickly, but gently covered his lips with hers. It caught the gentleman off-guard, he nearly dropped the necklace. He was surprised by her boldness, but that was not to say that he was not pleased. Her lips were soft and she was undoubtedly a beautiful lady. She might not be his red-headed crush, but then again Bennett could have had set him up with someone worse.

She pulled away as quick as she had engaged with the kiss, then turned around and requested for him to help her put on the necklace. Claire didn’t give him a chance to recover. She pulled her hair to one side, exposing the creamy complexion of her nape and the bare skin of her back and shoulders. Blasted jewelry! Was she deliberately seducing him? Well, two can play her game.

While she talked about the wedding, he freed the necklace from its box then asked her to hold on to it for a while. Nick stepped closer to her then reached around her to carefully place the jewelry over her chest. She smelled like flowers blooming in spring. “Is the length alright with you?” He whispered from behind her right ear. “I told you I intended to court you before we wed. It was not part of my plan to reveal to you that like you, I was also forced into this situation. Besides, somebody once told me that the key to a happy life is a happy wife.”

After securing the clasp at her nape, his gloved hand traced a trail from the nape to her right arm and down to her hand. Warmth radiated from her skin through the material of the gloves he most specially wanted to get rid of. Nick closed his hand around hers raised it over her head and, before she could protest, twirled her around so that she was facing him

“Miss Abbott,” he said, diving in the pools of her bright eyes. "I will not blame you if you desire the company of another. I know you don't love me. However," he lowered their joined hands. At the same time his other hand found the small of her back and pulled her ever so close against him. The gems were momentarily forgotten, he was aware of only her presence. The knuckles of his right hand touched her cheek, caressing it lightly. "I intend to change that."

He leaned in into the softness of her lips, damning all the society’s rules about propriety and proper conduct. The kiss was polite and gentle, but not lacking in passion. Nick wanted her to know, without using words, that he was as willing as her to try and make the relationship work. He wanted her to understand it, and believe in it. This was still part of his work, and this was his cover. She was now one of the people he had to decieve.

Nicholas pulled away reluctantly, though he kept an arm around her. “How very inappropriate,” his smile was sheepish. “But then again, the worst that could happen if we get caught is to be forced into marriage. So what the hell. But I’m afraid I must return you to your father’s house. I will be in constant contact.”

He wasn’t. In fact, he didn’t show his face again to Claire until the very day of their wedding.

“I can’t be a part of this. I cannot help like I want to, not until after the wedding,” Claire protested, gripping the reins of her chestnut Arabian horse, Willow.

“Miss Abbot, you can and you will. You signed up to help. Don’t you believe in our cause, in bringing down those that are on the wrong side of-“

“I know, Sir, and I will, but you have to give me time if I’m going to do this properly. All eyes are on me since this damned wedding announcement. I can’t go outside without being asked what type of flowers I’m having or-“ Claire sighed, seeing the look of frustration on her contacts face at being interrupted. Any man with such a pronounced goatee and round face could never demand a ton of respect from her on sight, but since he was her main form of communicating with those in charge, she had no choice but to keep him at least moderately happy. Unfortunately if he was the one arranging a meeting, it usually meant she had done something wrong. It would be a lot easier to carry on a conversation if he would let her know his name. “I just need to get through this. Afterward I’ll be able to get my ears near anyone I want in London without me falling into a situation like last time…”

“How long until the wedding?” he asked, glancing to the side to make sure they were still alone. Anyone could meet by chance at the stables where riding classes were taken, so their hope was it didn’t look too suspicious.

“You mean you haven’t heard?” she replied sarcastically, to which he stared at her with the same cold, annoyed look in his eyes. “A week from today, early in the morning so we can spend all day thanking others for attending,” Claire sighed, her horse getting a bit antsy beneath her. “I swear, let me get through the next week and I’ll continue being just as dedicated as ever.” She would make sure the future family she’d been dreaming of lately wouldn’t have to hear of a war going on, that it would be over before they were even born.

“Fine, Miss Abbot. You’ve been given a lot of responsibility…I trust you’ll not get your cover blown or forget your priorities with this bloody marriage. If you do, there will be consequences,” the arrogant man said before making his horse to trot away. Claire stared after him with an even more somber expression than usual. She’d gotten yet another note to meet at the park only to be lectured. They were angry she hadn’t done her job, and rightly so. Claire patted her horse, directing her home with a deep sigh. First Nicholas hadn’t spoken a word to her since their meeting, and now this? She was going to have to get something big out of the military officials to make up for it.

That last afternoon with Nick had, to say the least, made her feel more comfortable about marrying him. The kiss had been incredible, as was every deliberate touch with those soft, caressing hands of his. She’d rode in the carriage back to her father’s house in a daze, and like a young girl with her first crush had waited for that ‘constant contact’ he’d promised. Yet with each passing day, the butterflies in her stomach turned to a knot of anger, both at him and herself. How could she be such a fool in thinking he meant anything with the gift, the kiss, and most importantly his words. It hurt worse than if he’d just let it be and not try to woo her. Well fool me once, shame on you, but it wouldn’t be happening again. Children would just have to wait for a long, long time, and she hoped the couch in their room was as comfortable as a stack of bricks.

*****

“Ma’am, may I speak freely, if only for a moment?” Claire looked back at her maidservant, the one that was always at her side when getting ready for special events. They were locked up in one of the many rooms within the Palace of Westminster. Everything was more elaborate, well lit, and more decorated than she ever could have imagined in her wildest dreams! Despite being against the entire ordeal Claire had to admit that this was every woman’s fantasy, and all she could do was sit and pout.

The Duke’s daughter nodded, to which Mary responded by quickly speaking her mind…as if faster speech would make it less painful. “I know you do not wish to marry this man. I’m sorry m’lady, but you make it painfully obvious when it’s just me in the room,” she sighed, shaking her head. “But sitting here when they’ve asked for you downstairs multiple times won’t make a bit of difference. Your father will have my head if I don’t get you dressed and down that aisle. Come on, you were so happy after seeing his estate, you said it was beautiful. Focus on that, hm?”

Claire scowled, but stood all the same. “I think next time I’ll just make you hold your tongue,” she snapped back, raising her arms for the bundle of lace, fabric, and flowers to be shuffled over her head and body. The rest was already put into place, including slip that made the dress wider at the bottom and a corset that she had to admit made her look eye-catching to any male. Hmph, she hoped the entire ensemble drove him crazy. Serves him right for teasing like that.

“Apologies, m’lady,” Mary replied, turning Claire around toward the mirror so she could lace up the back. There was more to be done on this one than her usual attire. “My goodness,” the bride whispered, running her hands over her hips. “It looks even better in here than it did at the tailor’s, doesn’t it? And the veil, that next?” The dress was almost completely made of lace and covered in miniature silk flowers at the short sleeves, neckline, and hips. The stomach area held no silk but a beautiful white cloth that dipped down into a V at her hips, just as it did above at her breasts. Her headpiece was simple, the real detail in the flowers, her long train behind her, and the gorgeous lace cloves that had gold bracelets over them. “At least the ring will look nice with these on,” she commented, mainly to herself as she held her left hand up, imagining it on. She had forced someone else to pick it out- Claire didn’t even know who took over that part of the planning. Why would she want to? The woman had thought she and Nick could do that together, had even written note after note to him about it, but then thrown each and every one of them in the trash before asking anyone to take one to him. If he wanted to have any part in this he would have said so. Nicholas Rochford wasn’t a shy man.

A knock at the door brought her out of the past. “Come in,” she called, turning to the large decorated door. She was ready from head to toe, her heels making her a couple inches taller than she was barefoot.

“Are you ready, Miss Abbot?” the man dressed very professionally asked, bowing to her. He must be a servant of the palace, because he wasn’t employed by her father.

“Yes,” she answered, giving the older man a smile. “Lead the way.” Simple as that. If she was lucky, no more words would need to be spoken until the vows. Claire thought it would be a grand day if she could just keep her feet moving, much less answer one more question today besides the dreaded one that would end her life as she knew it.

Westminster Hall was packed with people, all chattering away as a soft violin quartet played near the front of the room. There was an aisle lined with many white and pink flowers of all kinds for the season, a priest from the Church of England at the end, and her future husband should be waiting for her there as well. Claire couldn’t see any of it yet, but she could hear the people and it made her jittery as they came to the entrance.

“Dear Claire…look at you.” It was her father. Duke Abbot was grinning ear to ear, wearing a black suit that actually helped his figure look slimmer. He also wore a hat and the chain of a pocket watch hung down in his front pocket. “You are absolutely stunning. I swear, you look just like your mother. She…would be very proud of you, you know. I haven’t told you that enough.”

The sincere, heartfelt words humbled her and brought tears to Claire’s eyes. “Thank you, father. That means a lot.” She knew how much conversations like this made him uncomfortable. But he’d said it, despite barely making eye contact until he’d finished.

“Yes, well…eh, are you ready? Everyone’s been waiting to see the beautiful bride.” And all eyes of the servants around were on her, just as the eyes of London would be once the doors in front of them opened. Claire swallowed hard, wrapping her arm around his for support. Hopefully it would be over before she knew it, and Nick could go back to ignoring her like he apparently preferred. With one more breath the wooden double doors opened, light from the wide, open room making her blink until her emerald eyes could focus once more. One step at a time, Claire, and for the love of all that is holy do not trip…

Mr. Bennett advised Nick not to leave their townhouse one day before the most talked about event of the season. It was the time for Nick to relax, Bennett explained, referring to the gruesome and very feminine wedding preparation arrangements. To this, Nick responded with a smirk and a comment about him not requiring a beauty rest to look good. In other words, Nick disobeyed his handler.

The publicity was a success, every person in London was excited about the wedding of Lord Abbott’s daughter and one rich untitled man from Yorkshire. A few conservatives had questioned among themselves the duke’s decision to marry his daughter off to an untitled man, but then there was Claire’s reputation to consider. On the other hand, some called Nick and his father an opportunist for taking advantage of the said lady’s unfortunate circumstances. Nevertheless, it got Nick where his handler wanted him to be, plus he was told that the Queen was pleased.

Her majesty was most possibly pleased by the latest development, wherein there were no reports of missing documents, English forces in Crimea led victorious campaigns against Russia, and her secret service intercepted malicious messages before it reached the wrong ears.

This was how Nick found himself in another disguise instead of going out drinking scotch with his new found acquaintances the night before he was wed. He posed as a middleclass working man walking on Covent garden wearing a beard to protect his face from the chill of the night. He wore a worn out brown jacket over stained white shirt and trousers. The jacket was perfect in hiding the revolver and its holster, which he carried for personal protection.

That night he was neither James nor Nicholas. His name was Matthew Hawthorne, younger son of the Baron Sudeley. He walked on the sidewalk of the subdued marketplace. Occasional carts and carriages pulled by horses passed him by except for one closed carriage that stopped beside him.

“Good evening, sir,” greeted the coachman. He was perhaps the same age as Nick though a bit shorter than him. He spoke with a hint of French accent. “Might I ask for directions to Newgate?”

“A fine night to visit a dearly beloved confined in the prison,” Nick commented, fixing his cap as he gave instructions to the place he asked. The man thanked him and Nick watched the carriage went on its way. It meant the operation was a go, the first phase was a success, and this was now his show.

The information was confirmed when Antoine Dupont mentioned the prison name, which was according to their protocol. If any part of their plan for that night had failed, then Tim would have asked for directions to their rendezvous point instead. What Nick would do if that was the case would be to head back to where Mr. Martin Brown was detained to make sure he understood the reason behind the lie, but because the information was validated, he stepped into Mr. Hawthorne’s shoes.

The meeting place took place in a closed fruits stall. A person was already waiting for him inside, taking advantage of the shadow of the night. Unlike Nick who was dressed as a casual middle class, the other person had covered himself in a black cloak and was carrying a dueling cane.

The man made a show of withdrawing and checking his pocket watch. “You are late, Mr. Hawthorne,” he muttered. “I have been standing for a quarter of an hour already.”

“We are wasting more time talking about time which we cannot take back,” he answered in a voice not entirely his own for he had worked to attain the proper hoarse voice that would mask the difference between his voice and Matthew’s. “Let me hear what you want to say, this beard makes my chin itch.”

The man shifted his weight. He had a lot of weight. That was something the cloak failed to hide from Nick. The stranger was a broad man though not the broad muscular type, but the broad fat man type. His voice was quiet and other than checking his pocket watch, he showed no other distinguishing gestures. “This is why I dislike working with the upper class. Nobody asked you to come in disguise. Very well, there are rumors of a weapon prototype that is being mass manufactured for the use of the British soldiers. My other agent is not available so it looks like I will have to turn to you, Hawthorne, because of the urgency of the matter. What I need is the time and the mode of shipment.”

“And how to you propose I get that?” A minor setback in the vocal department did nothing to stop the arrogance from oozing out of him. That was Matthew Hawthorne and thanks to Claire he had the chance to befriend and study the gentleman.

“You are an intelligent man, your brother is a member of the parliament, you are the one who enlisted for this job. Do you suppose I will plan out the operation for you, Hawthorne?”

Nick snorted. “What about your other agent. Can I not collaborate with him?”

With a sigh, the man turned to leave. Just as Nick suspected, his face was protected not only by the shadows, but also by the hood of his cloak that was pulled up over his head. “I will need answers, Matthew Hawthorne. My employers are not patient people. We compensate for your efforts well, but we are not patient people. Remember that. Your bloodline will not save you if you disappoint me. Good evening.”

“What I am saying is that -”

The man shook his head and turned his back to Nick. “She is not available, or else I will not turn to you.”

She? The other agent cannot be a woman, might be just a grammatical mistake. He reached behind his jacket as if to scratch his back. “I didn’t mean about the other agent. What I’m saying is that you need to put your hands where I can see them.”

The other man turned to see the barrel of a standard government issued revolver pointed at him. “Do it now,” Nick coaxed. “or I pull the trigger.” The stranger didn’t waver. He stood there like a shadow watching him, probably cursing in his head and abusing his brain in thinking how to get out of the situation. But there was no getting out. He was theirs and he would help Nick destroy the network.

Such thoughts were running in his head when he heard the gunshot and someone say, “Cocky young lordlings.” The gunshot registered in his head before the pain did. Then saw the hole on the stranger’s cloak, at about his waist and realized one thing - he underestimated his enemy. The man was holding the gun beneath his cloak all along. Nick imagined the face hidden by the cloak smirked at Nick's foolishness as the "cocky young lordling" fell to his knees desperately putting pressure on the wound at his side.

Another shot was fired. Nick braced himself for the pain he thought would follow, but there was nothing. Instead, the man turned away from him and started running. He tried to get up, but his legs wouldn't carry him. The target was getting away. He tried again, only to fall on his face. The last thing he could remember was Antoine calling him by his real name.

********

“Are you sure you can hold yourself upright until the end of the ceremony, Nicholas?”

Nick watched Bennett pace around the room in his frock coat and his hat held with both hands. It was already the morning of the wedding, and to Bennett's opinion, everything was in order except for Nick. They were already at Westminster, in the room assigned for the groom. All were dressed and prepared to play their part. Even Nick, who presently preferred sitting than pacing. An empty glass which once was half filled with scotch was on the coffee table. “Again, you ask that question. And again, my answer is yes.”

Nicholas would not admit it, but he did think he was going to die after he saw the blood spreading out from the dirty shirt he wore the night before. The shot was fired at about two meters from him. The bullet pierced through skin and flesh, and possibly his liver according to the Physician. He was placed under strict observation, but they all knew he could not let their covers be blown because of his brash actions.

“What about until the end of the day?”

Nick turned to the voice of his friend, Antoine. He was attending the ceremony as part of the Rochford family. He was to be called Timothy Perrault, a cousin from his mother's side of the family, who was raised in France. That morning, Antoine presented himself with his blonde shoulder length wavy hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck. He claimed the spot next to his friend and offered the glass. “To dull the pain, James.”

“Which one? The hole on my abdomen or the pain of having to wed an adulteress?” The two men chuckled, clinked their glasses and drank their respective scotches.

Bennett turned sharply at his boys. “Enough, both of you. Timothy, do not call him that name. And you, Nick, enough alcohol for the morning. You cannot face your bride smelling like a drunkard.” He opened his mouth to say something else when a knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” he called out instead.

A man opened the door and announced that the ceremony is bound to start and the groom must already be present. They all thanked him and promised to oblige. Bennett cast a look at Nick. “I cannot leave Claire at the altar. This is just a flesh wound,” he answered the stare then he slowly got to his feet, but kept a hand on the backrest of the chair to steady himself.

Bennett barked a humorless laugh. “Bollocks! That is anything but a flesh wound. You could have died last night,” his handler pointed out while Tim gathered Nick’s coat and helped him put it on.

“Good thing I didn’t. Now I have a bride to marry.” And make peace with, he thought. “Let us be on our way.”

******

As was the custom, the groom stood at the other end of the altar to wait for his bride. Nicholas kept his posture casual and his thoughts anywhere else but the encounter last night and the pain of the gunshot wound. Although a bit pale, he was undeniably striking that morning wearing black frock coat over double breasted waistcoat and intricately tied red cravat. He stood calmly by the feet of the altar, tall and broad on the shoulders, waiting for the doors to reveal his lovely bride.

Nicholas had not seen Claire in the two weeks since he had shown them their house. How had she been? Did she even think of him during those times? He hoped that their last meeting had a lasting impression on her, because…

The double doors opened. She was standing at the center with her father, but as soon as his eyes caught sight of her, Nick regretted not coming to see her at least once in the past weeks. She was the picture of perfection in her white gown. He watched her walk down the aisle, unable to properly react, hypnotized by her every move. Their first kiss played out in his mind. He would kiss her again. Today. It made him thankful that the bastard in black cloak didn't kill him.

The duke and her daughter reached the end of the aisle. “I will take care of your daughter, my lord,” he told the duke before he could say anything. Then Nick smiled and offered his arm to her after the duke left.

“I might have to apologize,” he whispered, still smiling. “But first I want to tell you that I missed you dearly.” He led her to the front of the altar where they knelt as the ceremony began.

“Bite your tongue,” Claire replied in a harsh, angry whisper before they kneeled so no one would hear. Their exchange was fast, and now he would have no chance to reply. Well that was just fine by her, he could stew in guilt and wonder what consequences her wrath would bring. The man in front asked them to rise and immediately went into the ceremony, the music stopping in the background.

“Dearly beloved friends, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honorable state, instituted of God…” The clergyman read from the Common Book of Prayer, something Claire had heard time and time again from the weddings she had attended in the past. It was a long read, but she did her best to keep a smile on her face as was expected by all around them.

“I require and charge you (as you will answer at the dreadful day of judgment, when the secretes of all hearts shall be disclosed) that if either of you do know any impediment, why you may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, that you confess it...” He went on, and when the command was finished Claire’s gaze fell. No matter what she wanted, this was her fate. She could list a dozen reasons why this was not a good idea, but her father and her employer could think of a dozen more for why she should. The room was silent… no one was coming to her rescue.

Next were the actual vows, Nick first and then herself. “Will you have this woman as your wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness, and in health? And forsaking all other, keep only to her, so long as you both shall have?”

What a long, detailed way to ask if he would stay faithful. Claire stole a glance at him, hating how…how final it all sounded. This was her life. Would he keep them…would she? Because as soon as he answered they were asked of her as well. Of course most of it, the most important part, could not be kept. She did not love him, and had no idea how to comfort him. Honor? Honor was earned, in her opinion, and he had done nothing to earn it. But the words still came out of her mouth, and behind her father breathed a sigh of relief. “I will.”

Her anger had changed to grief, and keeping a smile that did not reach her eyes Claire turned to take his hands as a few more words were spoken. Finally it was time for the ring. Then a long prayer, and they could ‘celebrate’ the wonderful union between two people who were supposed to be in love. At least, there would be less gossip if they acted in love. Of course there would be a breakfast afterward for the closer friends and family…and by closer, there were still probably a hundred guests attending the reception. It would normally be held at her father’s house, but why waste such a wonderful venue?

Claire hated the idea of small talk, but knew she was getting ahead of herself. Why dread the future when there was enough to dread happening right now? The woman closed her eyes, the weight of the necklace he’d given her becoming a burden. It was not given out of love, but obligation, just like the entire ceremony.

”Bite your tongue.”

There it goes – the wrath of a lady wronged by a man. Nick flinched at her words. He could try and fake innocence then ask her what he had done wrong, but knowing Claire such an act would only fuel her apparent hatred for him. They both knew what he did wrong. Although looking at the bright side, her anger was a good indication that what they had when they last saw each other got into her head. She did believe his intentions and might have had hoped that there existed a future where the two of them could coexist in perfect romantic harmony.

Then again, letting her real emotion to get the best of her was the quickest way to shred the remainder of her reputation. He admired how he handled herself and her emotions in the middle of the biggest turning point in her life. She was giving her life away to a man who had flowery words and no real substance, a man who so easily gave away promises but had no intention of fulfilling any of it.

And yet, like the heartless bastard he was, he answered affirmation to the clergyman that he will love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, and that he will save himself only for her. She did the same with a smile on her lips but her beautiful emerald eyes downcast and avoiding him. They both know they could not keep such promise, at least not at that moment when she was angry at him and he didn’t have much willpower to try and appease her.

The ceremony ended with the clergyman pronouncing them married under the laws of God and of Great Britain. With joined hands they faced their guests who clapped their hands most vigorously. Lord Abbott and Bennett wore almost identical grins, while Queen Victoria together with her husband Prince Albert applauded with the crowd. The queen caught Nick’s stare and nodded in acknowledgment.

Nick let go of her hand and instead offered his arm. He took advantage of the noise and whispered in Claire’s ear as he led them towards the exit. He walked slowly not for her but for himself. “Whatever it will take for you to forgive me, dear wife, tell me,” he said in a low voice emphasizing that she was indeed his wife. “Should I bite my tongue?” he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief, “Or should I let you tonight, when we have our house to ourselves?”

They reached the end of the aisle that was to Nick the longest aisle he had ever crossed. Relatives and new found friends congratulated the beautiful couple as they passed by. Nicholas nodded his acknowledgment like a mechanical doll programmed just to do that. All he wanted was to get out of that place and take a seat somewhere – anywhere. The strain of standing and kneeling and standing again, and then walking and talking, was starting to take its toll. Breathing, though he was still struggling to keep it even, was beginning to be such a laborious task. Even standing straight was not as easy as it should have been.

Finally, he was separated from Claire by the crowd of her relatives who wanted to greet her more personally. He was, in turn, met by Mr. Bennett and Timothy who both wore a worried look on their faces. A few of his new noble friends and “business partners” were also present to congratulate him.
“How are you faring?” asked Tim, clapping Nick on his back.

Nick grinned despite the beads of sweat forming at his brow. He would blame it to the relatively hot morning. “Still able to stand, but I feel like trading my new house for a place to sit or lie down right at this moment.”

The blonde French man looked thoughtful for a moment. “I know of such a place. What about I let you sit down and you let me have your new wife instead of your new house?”

Nick shrugged. “She’s mad at me anyway.”

The crowd parted for the queen and Prince Albert. Timothy sobered, while Nick and Claire found themselves standing in front of Great Britain’s monarch. Nicholas bowed. “Your majesty.”

“Such a lovely couple, the two of you,” she announced, her thin lips curving into a genuine smile. “I will not be satisfied if I did not personally congratulate you, Mr. and Mrs. Rochford. May God bless this union and may you fall in love with one another every single day.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” the groom answered.

“Well then, this is only the beginning. We shall see each other again at breakfast.” the queen turned to her husband. “Lead us to our carriage, my lord?”

With that, the queen and her husband left. The carriage of the newlywed waited at the foot of the abbey. It was a black open carriage pulled by four brown horses. He helped his wife up and followed after her, taking the seat beside her. He breathed a long sigh of relief as soon as he was settled. He would much prefer to lie down, but sitting was a much better option than standing or kneeling.

The wedding breakfast was going to be at the estate of Lord Abbott. It was their turn to showcase their wealth. The grand ballroom was equipped with long tables and flowers everywhere. Everything was neat and undeniably feminine. Tea and coffee were served at a side table and the wedding cake was the centerpiece of the occasion. It was on a table of its own in front of a rectangular table prepared for the couple.

“Whatever it will take for you to forgive me, dear wife, tell me.” His words pained her. She didn’t want that title and despised hearing it. Being wed to him and not being able to properly get her job done were putting her in the worst mood possible this particular morning.[i] “Should I bite my tongue? Or should I let you tonight, when we have our house to ourselves?”

“By all means let me,” she said sarcastically with a wide grin that was all for the crowd they were about to meet, “that way I can bite it off when there is no one in the house to hear you scream.” Yes it was crude, and certainly not the first thing a wife should say to her new husband, but Claire didn’t care. There was a rage still inside her, and to snap at him and leave his side immediately to get kisses and hugs from family was more than satisfying.

It was calming, she had to admit, to see her family members that lived hours away. Claire rarely saw them, and aside from the comments from the women on how attractive Nick was she enjoyed speaking with them. Eventually she was directed to his side again, and she wondered how much of a treat it was for him to get a congratulations from the queen. It was indeed special to her, much less someone with no title that had probably only seen her from a distance until now.

“Thank you, your majesty,” she repeated after her husband. As soon as the queen left they went outside to their own carriage. It was sleek and stylish, something she knew would catch the eye of everyone it passed. At first Claire only stared out the window while fiddling with her ring. It was a gold band with a number of small diamonds placed in a marquise shape as the gem; stunning, everyone at the reception would be talking about it.

“Well, we’re halfway through it,” she finally said in a false satisfied tone, looking directly at him for the first time since the vows. “When we get there I’ll cut the cake before handing it off to someone else. I, of course, am ready to leave whenever you are, so just let me know. Until that moment I would appreciate no more meaningless whispers of flirting. If you wish to speak aloud to me for show then so be it, but I will not be subject to another one of your charming, breathtaking lies.” The fury was back in her eyes, the thin line that were her lips. “Then after today you can go back to your busy, busy life.” Every word was laced with the detestation that had formed over the past two weeks, building each and every day he had chosen to not visit. “Nick, if there is another woman who has your heart, and apparently your time, then fine, I don’t care.” She did care, but that wasn’t the point. “You do not have to tease me to play the loving wife at home who doesn’t know. So will you please, for the love of all that is holy, stop acting like you care?”

Her words were shaky now, like she was losing the control she’d held so far. “You will not make me cry in front of all these people, Nicholas Rochford, do you understand me?”