The Knight; His secret author

Memories

What he asked of me was simple enough. “Turn around.” His voice was gravelly with need, and I did not hesitate to comply. Then his mouth swooped in to capture mine. Of their own accord, my lips parted for him. Soon his tongue was tangled with mine. Nothing had ever felt so wicked… or so sublime

She-wolf, The Alpha of my desires, A Memoir

Back to current day

*Althea*

When the car finally draws to a halt in front of my residence, I am still trembling from my earlier encounter with Knightley. Blast the man for ruining my evening, tonight of all nights, when I ad spent a delightful afternoon with Alpha Chidding and was striving to determine if he could provide me with the protection I required. If he is strong enough, powerful enough to withstand pack Society’s censure if the truth about me ever came out. If? No, when, because the truth always reveals itself, usually at the worst possible time. Would he stand beside me, or would he bolt at the last minute as Knightley had done?

I had simply needed a few hours of not worrying about how my carefully constructed life had begun to fray at the edges. Of looking upon my past, of acknowledging decisions made that at the time had seemed so very wise and all too often had threatened to be my undoing.

And Knightley, damn the man, is at the center of each and every unfortunate decision made. Damn, damn, damn him.

I am reaching for the door when it suddenly opens. Crossing the threshold, I smile at my butler. “You didn’t have to wait up, Shelby.”

“I can’t sleep until I know you’re home safe and sound, miss.”

“Well, I’m safe. I don’t know how sound I am.” As I have no wrap or other item to hand off to him, I merely bid him good night and head up the stairs.

Once in my bedchamber, I ring for my maid. It isn’t until Millie has assisted me into getting out of my gown and into my nightdress and is brushing out my hair that my most trusted servant muses, “Things didn’t go well at the club.”

I look up, realizing only then that my focus had been on my hands, and meet Millie’s gaze reflected in the dressing table mirror. “Whatever gave you such a notion?”

“You look like you encountered a ghost, miss.” Millie is only five years older, but she has always had a motherly, nurturing way about her.

“Not a ghost. Just my past.” I admit.

She nods. “The Alpha of Morrowind, I take it.”

I give a barely perceptible nod. “We spoke.”

“Did the bounder apologize?” She asks.

“I think... he may have wanted to. But at first, he spoke to me as though nothing untoward had ever happened between us. He invited me to join him for a libation in the club library.” I say.

“Hope you tossed the drink in his face.” She huffs.

I laugh lightly. “You are a vengeful sort.”

“Not as vengeful as you.”

I sober, grow somber. "No, not as vengeful as I am." I shake my head. "I declined his offer. I learned the lesson he delivered. I shall decline all his offers should more be forthcoming, which I seriously doubt will happen."

Millie parts the golden strands into thirds and begins plaiting them. "Why his sudden interest after all this time?"

"I don’t know. He was aware of Alpha Chidding’s calling upon me." I say.

"Jealous mayhap. Regrets his actions. Recognizes he lost a true gem when he turned his back on you. Did you ask him why he treated you like yesterday’s rubbish?" She asks.

"I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing any of it meant anything to me any longer. That I have ruminated about him at all over the years." Of discerning I continued to dream of him every night. And they are dreams, dreams regarding what we might have had.

Whenever I had been in his company, I had been so blissfully happy, had believed he accepted me for myself, flaws and all. He had found no fault with my parentage. The fact that I had no friends among the high packs hadn’t mattered. He had friends aplenty and had ensured they always danced with me at balls and treated me with respect when our paths crossed. He had seemed proud, overjoyed even, to have me at his side. He had never missed an opportunity to touch me, kiss me, or tell me how special I was. I had trusted his demonstrations of affection were true. But they had all been lies. What we had shared had been a lie.

"Mayhap we should return to the foreign lands." She says.

I shake my head. "Three years was long enough. I missed my home."

To ensure I always have a place to live, my father had put the manor and its surrounding properties in a trust for me. Unfortunately, I am not allowed to sell it. He had added that particular stipulation because he had feared some man would convince me to hawk it and the rapscallion would subsequently abscond with the money, leaving me with nothing.

The twenty thousand coins are also in a trust, and the yearly interest generated is more than enough to sustain me. But the conditions of the trust prevented me from touching the principle. My father, apparently, had little faith in my judgment. Although I can hardly blame him when it had been horrendous at one point. Or perhaps he had merely known the unscrupulousness of men, even before Knightley had proven himself undependable.

"You should have confronted the scapegrace when you returned." She says.

"There was nothing more to say. We said it all at the church." I mumble.

Or most of it, anyway. I should have unleashed the full extent of my fury that morning, but disbelief had numbed me and created a veil of protection. All I had wanted was to get away from him. And not to give him the gratification of knowing he had devastated me, torn my heart from my chest, and gutted me as well.

I have my pride and a lifetime of sloughing off slights, pretending to be immune to the ugliness often directed my way. That I had never expected him to fall into the category of cruel was a testament to my foolishness and his ability to forge dreams from fabrications.

I didn’t even let my father see my tears, but I shed them later, alone in my bedchamber. The crushing weight nearly destroyed me, but I discovered I was not so fragile after all. I was determined to rebuild myself from all the shattered shards. And I did it, although tonight, I felt the stress on the fragile cracks where I have pieced myself back together. I wanted to feel nothing toward him. Instead, I felt everything.

"Bugger him, I say. And good riddance."

"Yes, good riddance." Unfortunately, my tone carries far less conviction than Millie's, because once again, I'm trapped in that awful morning when so many emotions bombarded me that I could barely make sense of them.

My friend-more-than-servant drapes the plait over my shoulder, a habit she began years ago to indicate she has finished with the task of preparing me for bed.

"Will there be anything else, miss?" She asks.

"No, thank you, Millie. You've done more than enough." I tell her.

"Would you like me to help you into bed? Tuck you in?"

I smile warmly at her. "No, I'm going to stay up for a while."

"Not too late. You need your beauty rest."

I laugh lightly because Millie always ends the night with those words. My maid slips out quietly, leaving me alone with my memories.

I will never forget the redness of my father's face, the bulging of his eyes, or the tightness in his jaw when Knightley informed him the marriage would not take place, that he would be announcing the news to those waiting to witness the ceremony. Or the satisfaction I experienced when he plowed his fist into Knightley's face. Or the flash of worry I felt when the man I loved stumbled back and hit the floor. I was horrified watching the blood dribble from his mouth, disgusted with myself because my first instinct was to render him aid. How could I care when he had been so horrid?

"You will marry her," my father commanded.

Wiping the blood from his mouth, Knightley looked at me through hooded eyes. "Do you want to marry a man who can't bring himself to marry you?"

I never knew a person could survive such heartache. "May you rot in hell."

"I assure you, Allie, hell is definitely where I am headed." He said.

"I will sue you for breach of contract," my father growled.

Knightley just nodded. "I had expected no less."

"I shall see you ruined." But a man of Knightley's immense wealth can’t be brought to ruin or to heel. I knew even then my father's threats would have as little effect as a fly buzzing around.

Tonight I had no difficulty displaying my disdain for him. I was not frozen, wondering why he had changed his mind. I have moved on with my life, have chased away all doubts, insecurities, and uncertainties. In their place, I erected a wall of confidence that now guides me.

Rising from the bench before the dressing table, I pick up the lamp resting on the corner and carry it over to the small desk, with its four spindly legs, near the window. The draperies are pulled aside so I can scratch pen over paper, while periodically gazing out on the meadows through which I had frolicked as a child.

After settling into the chair, I pull a blank piece of foolscap from the stack before me, dip my favorite pen in the inkwell, and then apply ink to paper.

The Alpha of my Desires, Vol. II

Chapter One

The Gentleman Returns