Historical Romance Ebook - In The Dark With You by Alexandra Marell

In The Dark With You

by Alexandra Marell

Summary

This historical, set in 1835 was my first ever attempt at writing a novel and is the story of Damien lucius and Alicia Stanton. The theme of the story is that love can be found in the most unexpected of places, and often, behind rumours and legends there are ordinary people just wanting to be loved. Written to be a little gothicy and a little bodice rippy, Alicia is the typical starry-eyed woman of her day, dreaming of finding love, but knowing she'll probably be married to a man of her father's choice instead. When her father introduces her to the reverend Crosbie she's amazed to find that everything she ever thought she wanted in a man is being handed to her on a plate. And with her father's blessing too. The dream soon turns sour however when Crosbie reveals his true nature and Alicia realises how gullible she's been. A confrontation leads to disaster and Alicia finds herself needing a place to hide, and quickly.

Damien Lucius is the boy no one ever sees. Having spent all his life behind the walls of the Lucius mansion he's become the stuff of legends. The villagers say vampires live there and Damien is only too happy to let them think that as it earns him a prestige he could never hope to have otherwise. Now aged 21 the years of loneliness and despair have taken their toll and he's ready to end it all. But things don't go according to plan. Fate, it seems has a job for Damien. On his first time out of the mansion he meets Alicia Stanton on the cliff road, hurting and scared and when she accepts his offer of a place of safety at the mansion their futures are forever entwined.

But, as usual, the road to happy ever after is a rocky one and although the promise of love everlasting is very real, things are never that straightforward. Both of them learn, by the end of the story, just exactly what they're prepared to do for love.

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In The Dark With You - Historical Romance

genre: historical romance

length: 106800 / long novel

rating: sensual

publisher: Alinar Publishing

released: March 2007

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EXCERPT

WARNING

Some of the books on this site contain material of a sexual nature or graphic violence and are only suitable for adults. By reading the excerpt below you release me as the author of any responsibility.

Last night she'd truly thought she was going to Hell when the coach had appeared mysteriously and so poetically at precisely the moment it needed to. The canopy over the bed was dark, but this didn't feel like Hell. And Damien, she remembered him now, wasn't the devil. She was sure of that. But there would be a price to pay for what she’d done. In this life or the next, the devil would get his due.

Not yet, she thought frantically. Please, not yet.

Damien. Alicia turned her head and saw him in the chair beside the bed.

He looked uncomfortable with his head cradled in his arms, his body bent awkwardly. Relaxed in sleep, he appeared much younger than she remembered. He stirred a little, as if aware of her scrutiny, and she watched him slowly wake up. It was strangely voyeuristic, as if she were privy to some secret. Did she look as confused when she woke up? It was something you never saw yourself do, she realised.

Here, there was all the time in the world to just be. No duties requiring her attendance. No Mama calling her. No Dana jumping excitedly on the bed, eagerly demanding to know where she’d been. Here, in this strange place, in the still quiet of the morning, she could simply lie, pressed into the soft feather quilt, and look at him. Her saviour and unlikely champion.

His hair was the strangest shade. Almost white, hanging in a wavy curtain across his face, and much longer than was the current fashion. She tilted her head a little to get a better view of his face. Last night she'd been a little scared of him, but the early morning light gave him the appearance of one who might have been badly burned.

Her gaze followed the line of his body to where his shirt gaped open, and she blinked. Poor thing. His raw, red skin looked painful. Did he have to live with this every day of his life, with no hope of escape?

Would he still want her here when he awoke? Was last night an impulse he was instantly going to regret? She liked this Damien who’d rescued her so gallantly, and saw in him a kindred spirit. As he moved again, she fervently hoped she could be friends with him. If it was possible to be just friends with a man. That was something outside her experience and expectations, for she’d always seen boys as annoyances because they wouldn’t take her seriously and let her join in their games, and men as potential husbands. Then she realised Damien had opened his eyes and was quietly staring at her.

Their eyes locked for a moment. He frowned a little, as if puzzled by her presence, then a look of recognition and the ghost of a smile flickered across his features. When he sat up his shirt gaped open and he grabbed it closed and muttered something that sounded like an apology. He glanced at her again, a little more self-consciously this time, and hastily fastened the buttons. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face, and leaned back in the chair.

“You slept well?”

His voice had a sleep-roughened edge to it, pitched at a low whisper that was somehow in keeping with the intimacy of their situation. This was the first time Alicia had woken up with someone of the opposite sex, and it did cross her mind that this must be what it was like waking up with a secret lover - wickedly exciting. When she replied, she was surprised to find her voice coming out the same.

“I think so. Did I disturb you?”

“No.”

He said it a little too hastily, which made her think she might have. After all, she'd deprived him of his bed and consigned him to an uncomfortable night in the chair.

His bed. As they lapsed into silence, sharing a quiet moment, she thought that she owed this man, who'd given her sanctuary from the world, a great debt. In keeping with the sense of unreality that pervaded the moment, it was strangely fitting that she’d woken up in his bed.

* * * *

There was a woman in his bed, and it was no dream. But even though she was a mere two steps away, it might have been a thousand miles for all he could act upon it. He checked the buttons of his shirt again, feeling an unfamiliar self- consciousness at her frank scrutiny. Walking naked before Flora was one thing, but Lissa was from the outside world. She would judge him with different eyes. Now more so, since his skin was such a mess.

He found himself wondering whether he looked as sleep-tumbled as she did, reclining drowsily against his pillows. And whether his hair was in place. Hers was an endearing mess of tangled strands, which he desperately wanted to smooth back from her face. He didn’t, because her heavy-lidded gaze had him pinned to the spot like some love-sick fool. And even though he'd buttoned up his shirt, he almost did feel naked before her.

He levered himself out of the chair, stretching out the stiffness in his arms and moved toward the washstand, his head still full of dreams that had felt so real. She looked so inviting, sleepily watching him. She was Lissa, the girl he'd rescued from God-knows-what, but the poet in him couldn't help seeing a girl with untamed hair gazing languidly at her lover.

He splashed his face with water and forced his thoughts to more practical matters, such as what she was going to wear since she'd brought nothing with her. That turned into an image of her in his mother's clothes, which made things even worse. He kept his back to her while he struggled for control of feelings he didn't know what to do with. His body was telling him to go back to the bed and touch her, feel her, taste her, and that she wouldn't mind because she looked every bit as if she wanted him to. At the same time his mind was warning him against such a rash move. She would never feel safe with him if he frightened her with his clumsy approaches. He'd heard the expression perfect gentleman but had never appreciated what it entailed, until now.

It felt at that moment as if he had a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, both giving him advice on how to behave. He gave a little laugh, knowing he was so shy that the angel would always win. Amusing, given the reputation he’d so carefully nurtured for himself. His mind went off at another tangent while he dried his face.

She didn’t seem the slightest bit perturbed by the legend. Why was she not scared of him? Did she not realise that he might have had his wicked way with her by now? He might even have convinced her that she owed him that in return for giving her sanctuary. She must have known that to be a possibility when she consented to coming home with him. Perhaps she was something of a sophisticated woman, to lie so easily in a strange man's bed? Or so innocent that she was completely unaware of the effect that her behaviour was having on him.

Or maybe he was simply someone who didn't inspire fear. He wasn't sure whether he liked that thought. True, he'd told her she had nothing to fear from him, but she'd seemed to know that instinctively without having to be told.

“Damien, I...”

He turned, hurriedly clearing his mind of the jumble of images, still wondering if she might come to him willingly one day. He never found out what she was about to say. At that moment the bedroom door opened to reveal Flora, followed by Evan.

Damien looked up in alarm at this uncalled-for intrusion. Flora was standing, arms folded, and nodding towards Alicia as if showing Evan proof of something he had not believed. Evan in turn approached the bed, on which Alicia was now frozen in place, and stared at her incredulously.

Damien froze too, still gripping the towel, and for a moment no-one spoke. Evan snorted and turned back to Flora.

“Had to happen sooner or later, I suppose.” He leaned in closer causing Alicia to shrink back against the covers. “Looks like someone got a bit rough with you, lass. How much to keep your mouth shut?”

“It's not what you think.” Damien remembered to move at last and flew across the room. He attempted to insert himself between Evan and Alicia. Evan held him off easily. Grabbing him by the arm, Evan turned him away, leaned in close and spoke in a voice of barely contained anger.

“I will sort this for you, you bloody fool. Who brought her here? Alex? State she's in could cause us a lot of trouble. What the hell were you thinking?”

Damien struggled to free himself, twisting to see Alicia's look of alarm. A look that asked a thousand questions which flashed through his mind one by one. This was his moment. It was no longer simply an issue of who was master and who was not. It was time to make good his promise to protect her, and time at last to stand up to Evan once and for all.

“Let go of me.” Damien’s voice was surprisingly calm and commanded authority for the first time in his life. Evan hesitated for a moment, then let go of him and took a step back. With folded his arms he nodded towards Alicia, who still hadn't moved or spoken.

“Who is she?”

“I don't know.” Damien straightened his shirt and moved himself between Evan and Alicia. “And I don't care. I found her on the cliff road last night, and she needs a place to stay.” He lifted his chin. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Evan looked from him to Alicia. “What in God’s name was she doing on the cliff road at night? And why is she covered in blood?”

“It's not hers.” Damien reached behind him and caught Alicia's hand, not sure who needed the reassurance more. Evan continued with his impassive stare.

“It's my house, Evan, and I say she can stay.”

Evan took a deep breath and shot a glance at Flora. “Think, will you? If the blood is not hers, then whose is it? Will there not be people looking for her?”

“Possibly.” Damien felt Alicia's hand tighten around his. “But surely no-one will know she's here?”

“This is lunacy.” Evan let out an exasperated breath and closed his eyes. He muttered something and opened them again. “All right,” he said and stepped back. “Have it your way. After all, you are master here. We will do exactly as you say.”

It was just a show. Damien heard the words. He also heard the contempt that weighed them down. He wondered if Lissa heard it too. Evan may be backing down, but if he was true to form he wouldn't let this go.

“Thank you, Evan. You may go” Damien turned to Flora who had stood quietly by throughout the whole exchange, looking almost as startled as Alicia. “Lissa will need some clothes to change into. Can you see what we might have in the house?”

Flora nodded and scuttled off, as if relieved to be let out of the room. Evan shot them both another contemptuous look, spun on his heels and strode away.

As soon as he was out of sight Damien sagged against the edge of the bed, his knees almost giving way with the release of tension. He was aware of Alicia moving as he sat down and her hand resting gently on his shoulder.

For a moment he simply leaned against it, his eyes closed tightly as he breathed an inward sigh of relief at having passed this test of manhood. Lissa gave his shoulder a squeeze, and he managed a tentative smile. Had he disgraced himself in front of her, he knew he never would have been able to look her in the eye again.

“He is a bully, I think.”

Alicia craned her head around to look at him. Damien shifted his position to face her. She had a strange way of making him feel at ease, always seeming to know the right thing to say. She’d let him carry her into the house because she knew her earlier slight had hurt him. And she was doing it now. Smoothing his ruffled feathers and helping him to re-establish his sense of self. Part of him knew it was because she still needed his help and any woman would flatter a man to get what she wanted. Another part of him desperately wanted to believe there was something more to it.

“Yes, he is. But only because I let him be.” He realised that now. Evan took advantage because he had always lazily abdicated responsibility to the older man; the arrangement had suited them both. That it no longer did was sure to cause complications.

Damien looked down at the hand lying in his. “You’re very perceptive,” he said. “Are all women like you?”

Lissa twisted her legs around to sit next to him. “I have known bullies. You did well, Damien. It will not be so hard next time.”

Next time? He looked up and caught her gaze. She was nodding encouragement. Of course there would be a next time. This single incident wouldn’t command him the respect he needed to truly be master here. He didn't relish the forthcoming battle with Evan.

Lissa hadn't answered his question about other women and he didn’t press her. The only woman he was interested in was sitting right beside him. Another silence as they sat side-by-side, hands still entwined. An opportunity for contemplation and to process what had just happened. Despite her having shown great faith in his ability to look after her, he already knew that, of the two of them, she was the stronger person. If Evan had laid a hand on her she would have undoubtedly stood up for herself.

Would she ever tell him what had happened to her? It was too soon to ask, although she seemed to be waiting for him to say something.

“No, it will not be so hard next time,” he said. He pointed to a loose strand of her hair. “Your hair is a mess.”

She laughed. A sound of genuine amusement. “You need lessons in complimenting a lady, Damien.”

His hand stilled, and without looking up he said, “I know, Lissa. This is all so new to me. I need someone to teach me what to do...would…”

“I have nothing to teach you.” Alicia dropped his hand abruptly and shuffled away from him. “You are kind and honest. I am wicked and deceitful.”

She looked at him quickly, then away, and he was shocked by the pain he saw in her eyes. The brave face was crumbling away to reveal a young girl struggling with something he couldn’t begin to comprehend. And all the while he’d been fixated on how having her here was going to enhance his life, with hardly a thought for what she must be going through. He cursed his selfishness.

“Lissa, I’m sorry,” he said. “I want to help you. Tell me what you need from me.”

She gave a small sniff, which turned into a sob, and all he could do was gather her up and hold her. Convention can go to hell, he thought. And the way she held him back told him more than words ever could. He tried his best to ignore her soft weight against him, and let her cry. It was all she wanted from him at that moment. And the crying, this baring of her soul, felt strangely more intimate an act than anything they'd done so far.

He held her tightly, guessing that she needed him to be solid and unwavering, and he could do that for her. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he listened to her drawing in ragged breaths as she released the dreadful burden she was carrying, and his thoughts strayed to the future. To a time when she might be healed and want to go back to the real world and leave him here all alone in the dark once more.

He was already feeling the pain of saying goodbye.