XXXVIII | Sisters

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

Owen Compton came into Wheeler's two weeks later after becoming a Gentleman of Belcourt. He played cards with his friends at the club, drank a few glasses of brandy, and debated with whoever was willing about the bills passed by the House of Lords last season.

When he was foxed enough, he left Wheeler's and climbed into his stagecoach. It was a while later when he realized that the coach was not taking the route to his villa. He came to a start and was about to demand where his driver was taking him when he realized someone else was in the coach with him. He turned to find a man dressed in a black cloak with a white mask covering his entire face.

"Who are you?" he demanded, but the large man simply wrapped an arm around him, squeezing his shoulder tightly, silently telling him he ought to cooperate.

Moments later, he was taken to an abandoned, dilapidating building located in the slums of Coulway. He had never been to this part of the city—never thought he should—but there he was, dragged out of the stagecoach and into the building.

Another man in a white mask met them in the dark, empty hallway.

He could attempt escape, but that would be stupid. He may no longer be foxed, but the giant man walking behind him would definitely give no mercy if he was caught.

His blue eyes adjusted to the darkness, his face tight as their footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Finally, he was pulled to a stop by the giant man as the man walking ahead of them paused outside a door.

Compton let out a shaky breath as the room was revealed to him and he found the beautiful woman sitting in the middle. He stumbled as the giant man pushed him inside.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked Aliya.

"Good evening to you, too, Baron," greeted Aliya, standing to her feet. "Please, take a seat."

"I do not want—"

"Take a seat," she ordered, voice suddenly firm and authoritative.

Owen swallowed.

He took the seat she vacated and looked around. The two masked men were standing behind her.

"What do you want?"

"I heard that you became a Gentleman of Belcourt."

"It is not a crime."

She broke into a smile. "Of course, it is not."

"Then what do you want?"

"I do not want anything from you, sir," she said. "In fact, I will give you something in return for a small favor."

He blinked and remained quiet.

"I want you to pay for your Belle's dowry."

Compton's brows furrowed. "Delaney?"

Aliya's lips tightened. "Yes."

Again, Compton blinked. "Why?"

"She is my sister."

His face blanched, her words sending a chill up his spine. "You mean that—"

"The Gambler wishes to get his daughter back."

He shot to his feet and returned to his seat just as fast when the giant masked man stepped forward. His eyes shaking, he said, "I cannot marry her!"

Aliya scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You do not have to marry her, you fool."

"I will lose my membership in Belcourt."

Aliya sighed. "Dear, Owen, you will not lose your membership. You will only gift my sister the amount of money she can use to pay for her dowry. You can move on to your next Belle once she is gone."

Owen moistened his lips.

"The Gambler is waiting for Delaney, Owen. You do not wish to keep him waiting, do you?"

Owen rapidly blinked. "Then he is alive? The Gambler?"

Aliya smiled. "Very much."

He let out a shaky breath as he vigorously nodded his head. "When do you want it done?"

Her smile widened. "I am starting to like your questions, Owen Compton."

*****

Aliya climbed down the carriage and entered the villa quietly.

She thanked Jason and proceeded up the stairs to the bedchamber.

She paced around the empty room, her hands on her hips, her face frowning.

Had she done the right thing?

What if Compton changed his mind?

She shook her head.

He would not. The man was too afraid.

But what if he told Belcourt?

Before any more questions flooded her, the room burst open and her husband strode inside with a proud smile on his face. "Ah, my wife, the Gambler," he said as he gathered her in his arms and kissed her. "How does it feel to have such immense power, darling?"

She scoffed. "The Gambler is but an empty threat. The man is dead."

"We brought him back to life," he said, "twice now, I am afraid."

Aliya smiled up at him. "You jest easily about the man."

He shrugged. "It makes it bearable," he admitted, giving her another kiss. "Now, answer my question, how does it feel to be the Gambler?"

Aliya smiled. "Wicked, of course."

*****

Patience was direly needed for Aliya in the next two fortnights.

As it was her own plan to wait longer, she was willing to wait.

But one morning, merely a week after she talked with Compton, Aliya suspected something.

Her suspicion merely grew stronger when she started to feel differently.

The first person she told was her husband.

"Ollie," she said one night while he was reading a book in bed.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Have you ever noticed that my breasts seem a little different of late?"

"Hmm... yes, quite. Why?"

"Do you think it is not odd?" she asked, frowning as she squeezed her right breast. She stole him a glance and pursed her lips, noticing he was not picking up the cues she was throwing. "I believe I may be with babe."

The book was instantly snapped closed and thrown to the side as he turned to face her, his face filled with panic. "Darling, how certain are you?"

Aliya blinked. "I do not know. You tell me, you are the doctor."

He crouched on the bed and raked his fingers through his hair. "Do you feel sick in the mornings?" With a frown, he answered his question, "No, you do not. I should know."

Aliya only smiled as her husband craned his neck to the side, his Oliver St. Vincent face working as he thought. "Do you feel easily fatigued?" He shook his head. "No, I would know if you do..."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Have you missed your monthly bleeding?"

She nodded and he did the same, an ecstatic smile creeping up his face.

He touched her breast and grinned. "Your breasts do feel different."

She slapped his hand away with a laugh.

"Are there any other symptoms that you feel of late?" When Aliya took her time to reply, Oliver shifted on the bed restlessly. "Darling, you have to help me out. What else made you think you could be with babe?"

His hand instinctively went to her abdomen as though he would find the answer there.

"I no longer find pies appealing."

He nodded. "What else?"

"I quite enjoy watching you cut open an animal."

He blinked. "That may not be a symptom. It could only be you getting used to my work."

Aliya sighed. "I hate the thought of blueberry jams."

He stiffened. "That is a problem." He pulled her toward him and buried his face in her neck. "Darling, you are pregnant."

Aliya blinked, tears brimming her eyes.

He leaned back to give her a long kiss, and only stopped when he noticed her tears. His face filled with concern, he cupped her face and wiped it dry with his thumb. "What is the matter? Are you not happy that—"

Aliya shook her head. "No, I only... I fear that..." she paused to calm herself. "Ollie, I'm worried. We—what we are facing with the Royal Circus—and this matter with Delaney... Do you think this is the best time to have a child?"

Her husband let out a long sigh and sat beside her on the bed before gathering her in his arms. "Darling, my mother was pregnant with me while my father was stitching wounds of eight Royals in Sinclair." She felt his lips on the crown of her head. "Now, I am not saying I am not willing to go and hide in Herst until you feel it is safe to go back to the Circus, darling—because I would be willing to do that if you wish for it now—but I want to ask you one simple question." She waited, wrapping her arm around him as he took his time. "Do you want to have our child?"

"Yes," she said, sniffling in his chest. "Yes, Ollie, I do want this child badly."

"Then we should start on names."

Aliya lifted her head and looked up to find Oliver looking at her tenderly, his beautiful hazel eyes filled with unshed tears.

She leaned over to give him a kiss, caressing his bearded jaw.

He smiled against her lips. "You love me too much, do you not?"

Aliya sighed and hugged him closer. "Never stop being too confident, Oliver St. Vincent."

*****

As the month of waiting was coming to a close, Aliya was certain she was pregnant.

Natalia was the one who confirmed it by asking if she had missed her monthly bleeding. "You look pregnant, dear," her mother-in-law noted.

"I believe I am, Natalia," she said with a smile.

It might be the first time that Aliya saw the woman's eyes glimmer with tears. "You call me Mother now, Aliya. It is about time."

"If you wish, of course, I will gladly do so," she replied, her own eyes brimming with tears. "I have not called anyone Mother for quite some time."

With a brush of her hand, Natalia dismissed the matter. "Have you told Oliver?"

Aliya nodded.

Without a word, her mother-in-law stood. "Then I should deliver the news to Simon. And Mason and Ellise." At the door, the woman paused and asked, "Delaney will be arriving tonight, will she not?"

"Yes," Aliya said, her heart starting to beat faster against her chest at the mention of her sister.

Natalia nodded. "Then we must prepare a sumptuous meal."

"Where is Mother off to now?" Oliver asked as he entered the parlor.

Aliya looked at his sweat-drenched shirt. "Did you go for a run?"

He nodded as he approached, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I did. How are you feeling?"

"Stop asking how I feel every day, Ollie," she ordered. "Your mother just asked me to call her Mother."

He blinked in surprise. "Why?"

"Because it seems that I have finally met her requirement."

"Which is?"

"Giving her a grandchild."

His brows cocked high. "You told her?"

"She figured."

"Hmm. Odd that Natalia St. Vincent would notice."

"She is a woman, Ollie." She stood and they both retreated from the parlor. "Change your clothes, darling," she ordered as they walked. "I want to present a very charming husband to my sister tonight."

*****

Oliver, Aliya, and Natalia restlessly waited in the parlor that evening. Any sound from outside caused them to jump. Any subject that anyone would raise would die after a short while that they eventually decided it was best to wait in silence.

Aliya had to pace around. Oliver would shift in his seat from time to time while reading a book. Natalia was motionless, only moving her head to check the time.

And finally, after almost hours of waiting, Jason entered the parlor and announced that Owen Compton's carriage just entered the gates.

All three of them rushed to the door, but it was Aliya who walked past Jason and out the main doors. She ran down unto the driveway, her heart racing as her eyes searched the closed carriage that was pulling to a stop in front of her.

The door opened and Owen Compton jumped out.

Not meeting her gaze, he gave her a small bow.

But Aliya's eyes were not on him.

They were fixed on the carriage's open doorway and at the woman who appeared from the shadows.

A whimper escaped her throat as she rushed forward, her arms stretched out as Delaney climbed down. She wanted to call her sister's name, but there was a big lump in her throat and all she could do was sob openly as Delaney's light grey eyes met hers and instantly filled with tears at the sight of her.

"Aliya," her sister whimpered, taking a step toward her. "You did it," Delaney said, tears trickling down her face.

With a gasp of relief, disbelief, and longing, Aliya pulled her sister into her arms.

She did not notice Owen Compton hastily climbing back into his carriage, or even when it started to roll away, leaving her and Delaney out in the center of the driveway, openly shaking with sobs in each other's arms.

Pulling away, Aliya cupped her sister's face, her eyes reveling at the sight of the woman before her. She brushed the strays of black hair from Delaney's cheeks and laughed through her tears.

For the first time in a very long time, Aliya felt complete.

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net