“Well?” she bit out, her glare much more icy.
He put his eyes back on his plate before he said, “Did I fail to mention just how remote Alder’s Nest is? My grandfather bought this huge tract of land up here in the wilderness of Northumberland for the very reason that it was quite far removed from any other habitation. And then on top of that, he had this house built in the center of it.”
“Why?” she asked with some genuine curiosity.
“An excellent question that our family has asked more’n once as well. His idea was to have a retreat for himself that the family would think twice about visiting. He didn’t mind admitting it. He had a house full of very noisy children at the time.”
“He didn’t need anything so grand as this just for a place to get away to.”
“Of course not, but, well, he was a duke, after all,” he said with a grin. “A modest abode just wouldn’t have befitted him.”
“He kept a mistress here, didn’t he?” she asked in a smirking tone.
It was a good thing he’d swallowed his mouthful of toast, or he might have choked. “Good God, the way your mind works is beyond comprehension. No, he adored his wife and children. He never stayed away from them for long. He just felt a need for complete solitude—and quiet—for a week or two every year.”
She shrugged nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t insulted him and his family with her baseless speculation. “It was just a guess.”
“No, it was a firsthand demonstration of your reputed spite.”
She gasped. “It was nothing of the sort!”
“When you don’t know my family and certainly never met my grandfather, that was indeed a petty, malicious bit of slander you call a ‘guess.’ By the way, if a man keeps a mistress, he doesn’t put her where she’s so inaccessible it would take him more’n a day to reach her.”
“You speak from experience, I suppose.”
She was doing it again. Did she not even realize it? Was being snide and spiteful so ingrained in her that it was the only way she knew how to be?
She guessed what he was thinking, accurately. “Oh come now, you don’t expect me to be cordial to you, do you? I haven’t even begun to insult you. Give me time, I’m working up to it.”
He had to bite back a laugh. Good Lord, he hadn’t counted on her being witty. “Of course I don’t expect you to be cordial—yet. That’s what I’m working on, remember? But, yes, I was speaking from experience. I am a renowned rake, after all, or hadn’t you heard?”
“I’d heard. I just didn’t believe it.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going to be the next Duke of Norford,” she said primly. “Which means you would be circumspect enough to not come into the title with any scandals hanging about your coattails.”
“Ah, I see. You think an unmarried man keeping a mistress is scandalous?”
She frowned. “Well, no, I suppose I was thinking of a married man.”
“It’s all right, m’dear. You can admit you simply weren’t thinking a’tall. You do that a lot, don’t you? Speak without thinking first?”
There was that becoming blush again. He was going to have to try harder to rile her in order to get the splotchy one instead.
She hissed, “If you’re done dragging me through the mud, let’s get back to the issue at hand.”
“The reason why it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to walk away from here?”
“Well, that too. You don’t really expect me to believe that this house is so far removed that I can’t find help somewhere in the neighborhood?”
He chuckled. “There is no neighborhood. But you’re welcome to ask the servants. They’ll tell you that Bartholomew’s house, which was built for a caretaker, is the only one around for a good fifty miles, and the nearest market is much farther than that, or didn’t you hear Nan mention that her father would be gone all day because he was going to market?”
“This is intolerable!”
“Well, it is why I brought you here rather than to one of my other estates. At least here you are free to roam the house and grounds.”
“As opposed to being under lock and key?”
“Exactly!”
She blinked. “I wasn’t being serious.”
“I know, but I am. Most serious. And the sooner you realize just how committed I am to helping you, the sooner we can both leave.”
“And just how do you propose to help me?” Her tone dripped sarcasm. “Are you opening a charm school here? You have to abduct students for it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Your entire scheme is preposterous, but if there isn’t a schoolroom for me to report to, just what will the agenda be?”
“I haven’t exactly tried anything this daunting before, so why don’t we just take it one step at a time and see how it goes.”
Daunting stung. “Since you obviously see me as a lost cause, why don’t you admit you’ve made a mistake and take me home instead?”
“If I thought you were a lost cause, we wouldn’t be here. And, no, taking you home isn’t an option—yet.”
She gritted her teeth. “You still haven’t answered, to my satisfaction, why you have decided to meddle in my life. Did you even consider that I might love being the way I am? That I wouldn’t want to be any other way?”
“Rubbish. You’re miserable, and because of it, you strive to make everyone else around you just as miserable. It’s so bloody obvious, Ophelia, that a child could see it. Oh, good God, don’t you dare cry!”
She ran out of the room, effectively hiding the tears that had just showed up in her eyes. He didn’t try to stop her. Damned tears! Real female tears were his downfall, and he didn’t want her to know that and use it against him. But he hadn’t expected to hit the mark quite so accurately about why she was the way she was. The question now was, what had made her that way?
Chapter Ten
“H ERE NOW, STOP THAT,” SADIE said in her stern, motherly tone as she entered Ophelia’s bedroom. “You’ll be making your eyes all red.”
Ophelia sat up from where she’d been crying on the bed. She wasn’t sure where those tears had come from, but she felt somewhat better for having shed them.
“Red will go well with this dress,” she remarked to make light of it.
“Red doesn’t suit you under any circumstances. It’s not your color, dear. And what brought that on, or do I need to ask? You were so angry yesterday you wouldn’t even speak to me, and now you’re crying again?”
“He’s not a nice man. I can’t believe I considered him for a husband, even if only briefly.”
“It’s a grand title he’ll be inheriting,” Sadie offered as an excuse.
“As if I care a jot about that. The title was just for my father. He won’t approve any husband for me who doesn’t have a title more exalted than his own.”
“You know, even I heard gossip about him when he returned to town, about all the girls’ hearts he broke when he left, and the hearts of their mamas! It wasn’t just his title and wealth, you know, but because he’s quite the charmer.”
Ophelia snorted. “Not around me he isn’t.”
“Then you must have been attracted to the viscount’s pretty face. He is passing fair, after all.”
Ophelia would have liked to deny that, but she couldn’t. It just made her even more angry that a man that handsome could be such a high-handed bastard.
“Did you have any luck?”
She’d sent Sadie to find out where her coach had been taken. Not that she thought either of them could drive it, but the horses had been an option, at least they had been before she’d found out just how deep into the wilderness Raphael had taken them.
“The coach is in the stable,” Sadie replied. “No horses, though. And his servants were warned not to talk to us about leaving.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Ophelia sighed. “We really are stuck here, you know.”
“I’d gathered as much. But for
how long?”
“Until he admits he’s stepped way out of bounds in bringing me here.”
“So he didn’t bring you here in order to compromise you?”
Ophelia could feel the anger coming back. “I thought the same thing, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. He doesn’t even like me! So it makes absolutely no sense that he’d want to help me.”
“Help you?” Sadie frowned. “How is stealing off with you supposed to help you? I’d like to know.”
“He intends to show me what a mean, horrible person I am,” Ophelia said sarcastically. “And it doesn’t sound like he’ll be satisfied until I’ve turned about and am dripping sweetness all over his marble floors.”
Sadie gave a hoot of laughter. “Is that what he told you, dear? What a crock of—”
“He was serious.”
“Well, then, show him how sweet you can be.”
“I will not!”
“You’re too upset to, I know, but if it will get us home…Well, never mind. I don’t believe it anyway. Are you sure he’s not secretly in love with you and brought you here to court you to his favor? That sounds much more likely. You two got off to a bad start, after all.”
“And we’ve gone downhill ever since. He admits he doesn’t like me, Sadie.”
Sadie wasn’t convinced. “That could just be a strategy, you know. It’s a pretty old trick.”
“What is?”
“To make you think you can’t have him,” Sadie said sagely. “For some people, it works to make them want the person all the more.”
Ophelia snorted. “That wouldn’t work on me.”
“But he doesn’t know that—yet.”
Ophelia frowned. She might have to give that some thought—no, it was a silly notion. But then Raphael’s explanation was even more silly. To change her? When he didn’t know the first thing about her or what motivated her?
She shook her head at her maid. “Trust me to know if a man is harboring secret affections. Locke insults me with every word out of his mouth. He delights in telling me that no one likes me. He’s called me mean and spiteful. He’s as nasty as Mavis was. He even called me a ‘shrew’!”
“You know you can be shrewish at times.”
“With reason! I’m so sick of all the insincerity, and it grew much worse with the opening of the Season. There’s been so much of it that I can’t trust anyone anymore—well, aside from you and my mother. Besides, you know that at least half the things I say and do are deliberate. I just can’t control this bitterness sometimes.”
“I know.” Sadie sat beside Ophelia and put an arm around her shoulder.
“It hurts.”
“I know,” Sadie said soothingly, adding, before the tears started again, “Did I mention it’s snowing? That’s what I came to tell you.”
“Is it?”
Ophelia would ordinarily have been delighted by the news. Ophelia loved to watch the snow fall. But she was too distraught at the moment to enjoy one of her few pleasures. She did glance toward the windows though, all four covered in sheer white drapes that let daylight into the room. She wished now that she’d let Sadie open the drapes this morning, instead of telling her not to bother since there was no view whatsoever to look upon.
Ophelia had been given a corner room, with many windows that looked out on nothing more than the empty countryside. It was a serviceable room, but not exactly designed for a woman. If Raphael had been truthful about his grandfather’s only coming to Alder’s Nest for solitude, then all of the bedrooms were probably like this. There was no vanity, but there was a lovely desk in cherrywood with ornate scrollwork along the edges and legs, and a plush velvet, cushioned chair to go with it. A large stuffed reading chair sat between the windows on one wall. A long bookcase was on another, with a tall wardrobe with a mirror on the inside door. The lamps on the two side tables by the double bed were plain, but gave off a nice bit of light in the evenings when they were lit.
A carpet covered the entire floor, its pattern woven in shades of brown and purple. That coupled with the marble-manteled fireplace allowed her to move about the room with her feet bare. There were paintings on every wall, which depicted scenes as varied as children playing in a field, a busy city street, a woman who looked rather sad, a vase with a single flower in it, among others. They certainly brightened up the room.
It was quite an extravagance to fully furnish a house of this size, and it was very large merely for one man to enjoy it for a few weeks out of a year. She’d heard the Lockes were quite rich. It must be so. Not that it mattered to her. The heir apparent could choke on all his family’s money for all she cared.
She’d resisted taking a look outside for as long as she could. She walked over to the closest window and moved aside one of the drapes and stared out at the falling snow. The flakes were quite large. When she looked below, she saw that the ground was almost covered.
“How lovely,” she said.
Sadie came up beside her to enjoy the same view. “I thought you’d think so.”
“At least it’s thick enough to hide that there’s nothing beyond it to look at.”
“The cook mentioned that it’s beautiful up here at certain times of the year, when the heather is in full bloom. Can you imagine, looking at nothing but heather for as far as you can see?”
“I suppose that would look nice,” Ophelia allowed, though flowers didn’t interest her nearly as much as snow did.
“If this keeps up, there may be a deep carpet of pristine white out there tomorrow,” Sadie predicted.
Now that interested Ophelia. “Do you think?” she asked excitedly.
“We’re far enough north for it to even stick around for a while. It’s coming so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if it continued into the night. Should I unpack some of your warmer clothes?”
Sadie knew her well. Ophelia loved walking in freshly fallen snow if it was deep enough that her footsteps wouldn’t uncover the ground beneath it.
“You might as well unpack everything now,” Ophelia said with a sigh.
She hadn’t let Sadie do so last night, insisting they wouldn’t be staying. “I don’t think we’re leaving—for a few days at least,” she added, then turned to Sadie, opening her eyes wide so the maid could examine them. “My eyes didn’t really get red, did they?”
“Planning to jump back into the fray, are you?” Sadie guessed.
Ophelia didn’t deny that she was going to seek Raphael out again, now that she was back in control of her emotions. “Just tell me?”
The maid tsked and pointed out, “You could just look for yourself. There’s a mirror right over there that is not your enemy.”
“Sadie,” Ophelia said warningly.
“Not red a’tall, which is too bad. Wouldn’t hurt for him to know you were crying. A little guilt works wonders on a man.”
“He knows,” Ophelia replied in a disgruntled tone. “But a man has to have a conscience to feel guilty. Devils don’t have them, I’m sure.”
Chapter Eleven
A T FIRST OPHELIA DIDN’T EVEN notice Raphael in the parlor, though she’d been looking for him and he was sitting right there on the sofa. But the drapes were open on a long bank of windows on the front of the house. She smiled to see that it was still snowing quite hard.
“Feeling better?” Raphael asked.
She located him on the sofa. Her smile left her. He was just setting down a book he’d been reading. He’d removed his jacket, probably because the fire was roaring in the fireplace. Esmerelda was there as well on another sofa. The room was large, with three sofas plus an assortment of comfortable chairs. The older woman glanced over the rim of her own book to give Ophelia a nod.
“Morning, gel. Or is it still morning? Actually, it must be later than that, since I’m getting rather hungry. I don’t eat breakfast, you know. But skipping it just means I can’t wait too long for luncheon.”
Ophelia’s smile returned for Raphael’s aunt. “They’re making a ra
cket in the kitchen, so it probably won’t be long, Lady Esme.”
“Eh?” Esmerelda said, not quite hearing her. “I’ll just go hurry them along then and wait in the dining room. Join me?”
“In a moment,” Ophelia said a bit louder, trying not to shout. “I’m just going to have a few words with your nephew first.”
“Why did that sound ominous?” Raphael asked as soon as his aunt left the room.
“You jest, Lord Locke, when nothing about this situation is remotely humorous.”
“No jest a’tall, since you’ve done nothing but shout, rant, and complain since we got here.”
“All with good reason, or did you really think I’d say thank you for holding me prisoner?”
He let out a long-suffering sigh, which she was sure was quite contrived. “Come and sit down. And do call me Rafe. All my friends do.” She stared at him pointedly, causing him to chuckle and add, “Even my enemies do. No, really they do. And I’ll call you Pheli if you don’t mind. Less formality between us will—”
“I do mind.”
“Too bad. But as I was saying before you rudely interrupted, less—”
“I really do mind,” she cut in again. While she could care less that it appeared she was annoying him, this was something she wasn’t going to give ground on, so she decided to explain. “It was a childhood name my friends gave me. When I thought they were my friends, it didn’t bother me in the least, but I found out they weren’t. So it’s a name I associate with lies and deceit, and every time I hear it, it reminds me of that betrayal.”
She didn’t expect to shock him into silence, but he had nothing to say to that, and the look he was giving her was a mixture of confusion and—pity? He better not pity her. She wouldn’t tolerate it.
He recovered enough to ask, “Was your childhood really so—unusual?”
The Devil Who Tamed Her Page 6