She smiled up at him. That was what she wanted. That was what her new world demanded. Reaching up she pulled him down on top of her.
This. This moment, this feeling of wholeness was what she needed.
“Oh Devlin,” she sighed as he began to move inside of her.
Thrusting slowly at first, then building, faster, and then faster yet. Always increasing. Always growing. Higher until at last she exploded once again.
And yet, he continued to move inside of her. Searching for his own release.
Rebecca held on as she once again felt herself getting ready to…
“Oh Yeeeessssss” she hissed through clenched teeth, as he released himself into her. The throbbing sensation inside her very being sent her over the edge once again as she climaxed into a thousand worlds at once.
.o0o.
Insistent knocking pulled Devlin up out of a deep dream about soft thighs and round breasts.
“Yes, what is it?” he demanded as he tried to return to awareness.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” Lincoln, the butler said as he opened the door. “Word from Pine Crest. There has been another fire.”
“What? The girls?” Rebecca said as she bolted up in bed, the blanket pulled to her chest. “Are the girls all right?”
Damn, Devlin thought.
Lincoln’s eyes grew as large as apples at the sight of Miss Jones, naked, in the Duke’s bed.
Rebecca’s eyes grew even bigger at the realization of what had just happened.
“I … I uh … I’m sorry Your Grace,” Lincoln mumbled as he stared at the floor. “You said to come in, I … I uh.”
Devlin shook his head. He glanced over his shoulder at Rebecca. She was as white as the sheet at her throat. He wondered what terrified her more, their discovery by Lincoln or the thought that something had happened to the girls.
“Pine Crest,” the Duke said. “What do they say, are the girls all right?”
Lincoln lifted his candle to see the note in his hands. “Scruggs doesn’t mention the young ladies, Your Grace. He says that there was a fire in the Master bedroom. And that, Mr. Michaels was injured, but will recover.”
Devlin could feel Rebecca relax. Like him, she knew that Scruggs would have said something if the girls had been hurt.
“The carriage Lincoln, we leave immediately,” the Duke said.
“Yes, of course, Your Grace,” the butler said as he glanced one last time at Miss Jones. Devlin bristled and started to say something, but the man quickly turned and left before he could complete a thought.
Sighing, his shoulders slumped. He turned in the bed to look at Rebecca. Her eyes were glazed with shock, her hands clenched the blanket like it was the last line in a raging torrent.
Slowly the color began to change in her cheeks as the fear was replaced by embarrassment.
“What must he think of me?” she mumbled under her breath.
Devlin didn’t think she was talking to him, but decided to answer anyway.
“I wouldn’t worry, Rebecca. Lincoln won’t tell anyone what he saw.”
Her eyes locked onto him in anger. The fear, and embarrassment long gone.
“You promised,” she said. “No one would ever know.”
“I know, I’m sorry…”
“Sorry,” she said, her voice rising with each second the magnitude of what had happened seeped into her.
“As I said, he won’t tell anyone.”
“But he will know,” she said. “How can I ever look him in the eye again? How will I look the girls in the eye?”
He thought she might cry. Most women would have. Not his Rebecca. She pushed him out of the way to quickly dress. Her back to him the entire time. It was as he had betrayed her somehow. As if this was all his fault.
When she had pulled her robe’s belt tight, she turned to look at him one last time. Her eyes were alight with a flame. But, not a flame of passion. This was anger, pure, and clear. Her eyes squinted. He had failed her. In the most important aspect, keeping her safe from discovery. He had failed.
How could she blame him? And, who cared if the butler knew they had shared a bed? This wasn’t right. A beautiful, wonderful night was ruined, and somehow it was his fault.
His own anger was beginning to rise to match hers.
“Where are you going?” he demanded as she stomped towards the door.
“To pack,” she said as she slammed the door behind her.
To pack? Was she leaving him? Or, was it to go to Pine Crest? Surely she would return with him.
Thirty minutes later he sent one of the maids up to inform Miss Jones that the carriage was ready. It seemed that half the household was up and about. The word of the fire at Pine Crest had spread. Lincoln had turned all hands on deck to see to things.
Devlin stood by the front door and waited for Rebecca. Tomas sat up in his box. James at the carriage door. It would take them most of the day. Even with changing horses along the way. What had happened? Were the girls truly all right? Would Rebecca ever forgive him?
Everything had been wonderful, until suddenly it wasn’t. He had been asleep, he reminded himself. It wasn’t his fault. What was he supposed to have done, send the man away?
Besides. If she hadn’t sat up like that, Lincoln would never have known she was there. It was as much her fault as his.
He shot James a look and shrugged his shoulders. You would think she would be in a hurry to get to the girls.
A brief movement caught his eye. Miss Jones, at the head of the stairs was making her way down. Dressed in her typical gray day dress. Her hair up underneath that blasted bonnet. The woman didn’t look anything like the passionate creature in his arms only a short while ago.
She looked like the prim governess, ready to rap the knuckles of anyone who misbehaved.
Two footmen followed her, each with a heavy case and valise.
“You could have left that here,” the Duke said. “We could have retrieved it when we returned.”
“I doubt I will ever return, Your Grace,” she said with a cold voice as she stepped by him and up into the coach.
Devlin’s heart fell. No, it didn’t look like she was going to forgive him. At least not in this lifetime.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rebecca clutched her reticule in her lap and stared out the window of the carriage. Watching the new dawn. The pretty pinks and yellows of the rising sun did nothing to make her feel better.
A new day in her new world.
She was ruined. There was no other way to look at it. No man worth having would ever marry her. And, no family worth knowing would ever hire her as a governess.
Her life was over. And, it was all his fault.
The big lump sat there without a care in the world. Didn’t he realize what this meant?
If she had been a Lady. An innocent daughter of some Baron or Earl. He would have been expected to do what was right and marry her. But she wasn’t a Lady. She was a governess. Only a mere employee. Society didn’t demand that men marry their disgraced employees. If it had, they’d all be married off long before they ever got to the innocent daughters.
Biting her lip, she stopped herself from snapping at him.
True, it hadn’t been like he had done it on purpose. But, that didn’t make it better.
He said that Lincoln wouldn’t tell anyone. How did he know? What was more, she would never know. Not for sure. If one servant in London knew, they all knew. And soon, all of Pine Crest would know.
Were Tomas and James, even now, carrying the news to Pine Crest? What if the girls overheard the servants talking? Rebecca could well imagine the maids twittering and laughing amongst themselves about Miss Jones being caught naked in the Duke’s bed.
They would sigh, and laugh with glee at her downfall and a little envy that they had not been the one in the Duke’s bed.
It was enough to make her want to scream.
“Rebecca,” the Duke began. “I wanted to again say …”
“Your Grace,” she interrupted. “Can we not discuss it now? Please, just let us get to Pine Crest and make sure the girls are un-injured.”
He frowned, as if she had hurt him. Good, he deserved to be hurt a little. But, then he nodded. “Of course, Miss Jones. We will discuss it later.”
The words Miss Jones tore at her. Rebecca sounded so much sweeter coming from his lips. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
Was it only hours ago they had made love. Her legs told her it was. They were still sore. Her cheeks could still fill the stubble of his chin. Her insides still felt soft with the memory of him.
Yet, that was over. They had been discovered. What was she to do?
She couldn’t stay. Not after this. She would have to spend her life in fear of the girls learning her secret. Their secret.
What is more, she realized, she couldn’t stay near him. She still loved him. Even after tonight. Especially after tonight. She would always love him.
If she stayed, she knew full well and good that there was no saying what she might do in the future. His power over her was frightening. Her stomach clenched in fear. Even now. She knew that if he wanted, he could seduce her back into his bed. Maybe not this very moment. But definitely in the future. She knew that she would forgive him. That if he asked, she would never be able to tell him no.
Turning, she resumed her study of the rising sun.
.o0o.
The carriage ride was intolerable, Devlin thought. The coldness coming from Rebecca was like a wall of pain. Her sense of betrayal a dagger to his heart.
All day, he had sat there trying to come up with some way to make things better. To fix the issue. But every solution depended upon her forgiving him his mistake in letting Lincoln into their room.
A fact that he did not believe was possible at this moment. He had seen how her eyes had shifted when they passed the farmhouse. The sense of loss that flashed on her face had given him hope. But had quickly been replaced with that steady stare of dismissal.
She would not allow herself to remember the good.
The coach took another bump. Tomas was driving the horses hard. They had picked up a new team in Dewberry for the last leg of their journey.
Sighing, he shifted. Maybe one more attempt he thought as he started to address Rebecca.
The coach suddenly lurched as Tomas yelled to the horses, bringing them to a quick halt. The brake squeaking and the wheels sliding in the dust. He could hear James cursing on the back as he struggled to hold on.
What was happening? Devlin wondered, as reached for the door to check.
Suddenly, a deep-throated yell from up the road made his stomach tie itself up. He hadn’t been able to understand the words, but they hadn’t sounded friendly.
Reaching for his cane, he started to remove the sword when a loud boom erupted from the coachman’s box, followed almost immediately by an answering explosion from the road.
Devlin well knew the sound of a pistol.
“Get down,” he yelled at Rebecca as he un-ceremonially pushed her to the floor. He would apologize later. For right now, he needed her out of harm’s way.
A horse screamed, and the coach jumped, throwing Devlin back onto the seat.
Rebecca fought to get back up, but he pushed her back down.
“Stay down,” he demanded as he reached for the coach door.
Again, the coach jumped as the horses started to run.
What was going on? He hated not knowing. Opening the coach door, he leaned out to yell up at Tomas.
His heart fell to the bottom of his stomach when he saw the coachman slumped over in the box.
A flash of gray caught his attention. A man in a gray coat was leaning over his horse’s neck as he disappeared into the forest.
The highwayman obviously. Were there others? he wondered.
The carriage tipped precariously as the horses took a steep bend. Thank God they were following the road. If they decided to veer off, the carriage would be in peril and its occupants’ lives of little value.
Devlin glanced back to the boot, but could see no sign of James. What had happened? A horse neighed with fear, drawing Devlin’s attention. Blood was splashed across the rump of one of the wheel horses. Its fear and the smell of blood pushing the other horses ever faster.
Swallowing hard, Devlin did the only thing he could do. If they didn’t stop the horses, they would die. At this speed, there would be no question of surviving a crash.
Swinging the door all the way open he reached up to grab the iron baggage rail on the roof of the carriage.
“Devlin,” Rebecca gasped. “What are you doing?”
So, it’s Devlin now? he thought. Not Your Grace, or you bastard.
“Stay down,” he yelled over the pounding hooves and charging wheels.
Grabbing the iron bar, he started to pull himself up. His feet sought a purchase. The carriage was swaying back and forth too much to pull himself directly onto the roof.
He felt Miss Jones grab his foot and guide it into the window ledge for him. What a woman, he thought. No drama, no hysterics. She saw what needed to be done and did it.
He couldn’t stop smiling to himself as he finished getting to the roof. He lay there for a moment to gather himself. Miss Jones’ baggage silently reminding him that he needed to hurry if he was going to save her.
Rising up, he prepared to move to the box when a giant oak branch swooped towards him. Dropping back down, he felt the branch tug at his coat as they passed beneath it.
Catching his breath, Devlin crawled forward.
Tomas was slumped to the side. The tail end of the reins captured underneath him when he fell over.
Devlin reached a hand under the man’s coat. A sticky warmth greeted him. Tomas had been shot, but he lived, his breath was steady and strong.
He had taken a bullet to the shoulder. Shock, more than anything, Devlin thought as he tried to gently move the man aside so that he could get down in the box next to him.
The coach suddenly tipped again as the horse took another turn. Devlin could feel the two right wheels lifting from the ground. He threw himself towards the right side of the coach. Hoping against hope that his extra weight would keep the coach on the ground.
Visions of splinters and dust dancing in the air as the coach tipped over refused to leave his mind.
At last, the vehicle righted itself. Yet, still the horses ran. As if Lucifer himself held the whip.
Pushing Tomas aside, less gently this time, they didn’t have time to waste, Devlin lowered himself down in the coachman’s position and grabbed the reins.
Glancing forward he saw a particularly sharp turn. No way would they make it without tipping over. The sight of Rebecca dead by the side of the road refused to leave his mind.
Pulling back with all his might, he yelled for the horses to halt as he applied the brake.
The wood creaked and rebelled at the pressure he applied. A faint hint of smoke let him know that he was probably overdoing it. If he wasn’t careful, the brake might fail.
To hell with the brake, he thought. If he didn’t get the damn horses to stop, the entire coach would fail.
Yelling again, he continued to pull back on the reins while almost standing on the brake handle.
At last, the left lead horse glanced back. As if finally recognizing that someone had regained control of the world. They began to slow.
Devlin could feel the difference almost immediately. Still, he pulled on the reins less the horses change their minds.
As he did, he heard Rebecca yell from the carriage.
“Devlin, are you all right?”
He laughed to himself. “No, the horses decided to stop on their own.”
He could well imagine the pursed lips and heavy harrumph. Rebecca hated to be corrected.
As the horses finally came to a stop, half-way through the bend in the road, Devlin tied the reins off tight to the brake handle and turned to Tomas.
“Here,” the Duke yelled down to Rebecca. “Help me get Tomas down. He’s been shot.”
Rebecca gasped, but she quickly got out to help. Her eyes were as big as cannon balls and her face a chalky white. It hadn’t been fear for herself, Devlin was sure. She had been worried about Tomas, and James, the horses, and maybe just a little for him.
Grasping Tomas under the arms he lifted and tried to get him over the side of the carriage. Where was James? he wondered as his back strained. This was not an easy maneuver, but they needed to get the man to a doctor.
Rebecca reached up and tried to steady Tomas as Devlin slowly lowered him down. At a certain point, he lost all leverage and had to let go. It was either that or follow the man to the ground.
His governess acted as if she had experience moving comatose patients. She caught him with her shoulder and grasped him under the arms. Using his momentum to gently lower him to the ground.
Devlin shook his head with admiration. She didn’t flinch from the blood. Didn’t jump out of the way to avoid being crushed. Instead, she dealt with the problem.
He felt his heart swell about three sizes bigger. This was a woman to walk beside a man. The kind of woman that could raise sons that would make a man proud.
“Your Grace,” a breathless James yelled as he ran into view.
Rebecca was bent over Tomas, checking his wounds. Loosening his clothes so that he could breathe easier.
“Your Grace,” James repeated as he ran up to them. His tight uniform hampering his ability to move gracefully.
Reaching them, the man bent over and placed his hands on his knees. “Your Grace,” the man said again as he tried to suck in enough air.
“You’ve already said that,” Devlin said. “Catch your breath, then help me get him into the coach, we need to get him to the doctor’s.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The look on Scruggs' face was priceless, Devlin thought as he pulled back on the reins, halting the carriage in front of the house.
Obviously, the idea of a Duke driving his own carriage was not an acceptable social occurrence.
“Send for a doctor,” Devlin yelled from the coachman’s box. “Tomas has been shot.”
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