“Will we be homeless, Mr David?” she whispered to him, and Dev wondered how much more guilt his heart could contain before it split open under the strain. “It’s just that… Mr Baxter said we won’t be able to take the kittens to the city but… but they’re so little.”
Dev grasped her hand under the table and squeezed. “You won’t be homeless, Jane, and I will look after the kittens if you can’t. Don’t worry.”
The relief in the little girl’s eyes was instant, her trust in him absolute. She was just like her sister, more worried for the fate of her kittens than for herself. Jane smiled at him and sighed, returning her attention to her dinner.
Dev got to his feet, pushing back his chair as everyone turned to look at him.
“Forgive me,” he said, his voice sounding odd and scratchy. “I… I think perhaps I had too much sun today as well. I’m feeling rather unwell. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Oh, you men! I told you both, you must wear a hat, no matter how sweaty it makes you!” Mrs Baxter’s scolding voice followed him out of the door as he hurried away, away from the concern he didn’t deserve, away from the guilt and the lies and the horror of what he was doing to them.
Chapter 12
“Wherein storms are forecast.”
Dev lay in the dark of the barn, breathing in the perfume of a previous year’s dry summer’s heat upon the surrounding straw, listening to the night creatures hunting, their prey scurrying for their lives. Somewhere an owl hooted, its companion calling back to it on the other side of the farm. Beside him the soft huffing of the kittens was just audible as they slept, contented now they’d filled their tiny stomachs with cream.
The barn doors were open to the night, to let in some air after a stifling afternoon. The storm that had been threatening all day was almost upon them, and Dev watched the dramatic flicker and flash of the lightening as it lit the skies. It was not a night to be out on the moors. The wind picked up, stirring the dust and straw just inside the barn and, a bare moment later, the heavens opened.
The noise of the rain was staggering after the quiet of the night. It fell like fury, as if it could wash away every trace of humanity from the face of the earth and leave it clean and refreshed. Thunder cracked overhead, the noise rumbling through the earth, echoing through Dev’s chest. It felt like judgement, like condemnation from above.
Dev didn’t believe in God. He’d prayed too often as a boy and never been heard, yet he felt as though the righteous anger of a vengeful deity was being thrown down from the heavens, for him and him alone.
Something had to be done. He had to save the farm. Yet, if the sale didn’t complete, Blackehart would come for him. Dev didn’t know how much of the rumour about the man was true but, having met him, he was willing to believe every word. Built like a mountain, he exuded power. They said the scar that lined his face was given to him in the workhouse as a boy, and Blackehart had killed the man for it. He’d been twelve. The self-proclaimed king of crime, he was one of the most dangerous men in the country, and no one incurred his wrath and lived to tell the tale.
Another crack of thunder shook the ground beneath him and Dev got to his feet. The temperature was plummeting, and the kittens would get cold if he didn’t shut the doors and keep the wind at bay. Soaked the instant he set foot outside, Dev secured the doors against the wind that fought to tear them from his hands. A horse screaming caught his ears and he turned his head towards the sound.
“What the devil…?”
Dev ran towards the paddock as a slim figure in a white nightgown became visible, playing tug of war with a horse strong enough to trample her in its terror.
As he grew nearer, he saw the lightening had hit a tree and a heavy branch had tumbled down, breaking the already fragile fence lining the paddock. The Kendalls’ horses had got free, spooked by the storm. Fortunately, Dev’s high strung mount was securely tethered in the barn. Charity had caught the roan by slinging a rope about its neck. The thunder made the creature wild, and it reared, showing the whites of its eyes and kicking out with its front legs.
“Get back!” Dev yelled, snatching the rope from her hands, terror in his heart the thrashing hooves might strike out at her. “Go back inside,” he instructed, yelling over his shoulder as he fought to calm the petrified horse.
“Goliath is out too,” she shouted over the din of the storm. “I have to look for him.”
“No! I’ll go,” Dev shouted back at her. “Get indoors before you catch pneumonia.”
He glimpsed an impatient eye roll before the horse he was fighting took his attention once more. Damn the woman!
It took some time to calm the creature enough to get it inside and out of the weather. Charity returned as Dev headed back outside, soaked but triumphant as the more docile bay trotted meekly by her side.
“I thought I told you to get indoors,” Dev snapped. “I would have seen to it.”
Charity snorted as she led the horse into the stall. “We survived before you got here you know,” she said, her tone dry as she reached for a handful of straw and wiped the sodden animal down. “Besides, she’d have been halfway to Plymouth by the time you’d got the other one sorted.”
“God, you’re stubborn,” Dev said, sighing and rubbing a hand through his wet hair, not sure if he was criticising her or full of admiration.
She laughed, and the sound filled his chest. He wanted her to laugh always, to look at him and smile because he was the one she turned to when things became difficult, because she trusted him. It was a simple enough desire, but one so far out of his reach he didn’t know where to begin. He moved about the barn, closing the weather outside and lighting a lamp. His trousers were sticking to him and he felt chilled to the bone. Charity must be frozen too, though he knew if he insisted she get dry and let him see to the horse he’d get torn off a strip, so he held his tongue.
She finished rubbing down the big bay and left the stall, and Dev’s brain stuttered to a standstill as he looked upon her in the lamplight. The nightgown she wore was sodden and almost transparent as it clung to every part of her. The outline of her breasts and the darker circles of her nipples were clearly visible, as was the darker triangle at the apex of her thighs.
“Thank you for your help,” she said, closing the stall and then looking at him with a quizzical expression. “What?”
Dev couldn’t have formed a reply if his life depended on it, but the look in his eyes must have been answer enough. He saw the breath snag in her throat, the flush of colour that suffused her skin. His blood heated further as she looked him over in turn and he remembered he wore only his trousers, as he’d stripped his shirt off to sleep. The desire in her eyes was blatant and honest, and he wished with all his heart that she knew the truth of him, instead of wanting a man who didn’t exist.
Dev stood balanced on a precipice, with the devil on one side and all his hopes and dreams on the other. He could have her now, he could make her his in every way, or he could hold back and try to put things right, hoping when she finally discovered the truth … she could find it in herself to forgive him. Dev knew it was a forlorn hope and, if he gambled and lost, he would never know what it was to love her. He might never have another chance to touch her and show her everything he was feeling. All the emotions he had no hope of voicing, as he barely understood them himself, would be revealed with such ease if he could only touch her.
Dev cleared his throat and tore his gaze from her, knowing the sight had been engraved behind his eyes for all eternity. “You… you should go and get warm,” he said, his voice sounding strange and too loud now that the storm had died down. “The worst of it has passed us by. Goodnight, Miss Kendall.”
The storm was dying down now, and he could hear nothing but the steady patter of the rain outside, the thunder gone. He walked away from her and checked on the kittens before rearranging the blanket he slept on. Once it was straight, he sat down and pulled off his boots, listening for the sound of the barn doors opening a
nd closing. It never came.
He started as the cold cotton of her nightgown touched his back, followed by the damp warmth of her body as her breasts pressed against him. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her head against his.
“Am I so unappealing?”
There was uncertainty in her voice and Dev hardly dared breathe, let alone move. He closed his eyes, appealing for help. God in heaven, I’m trying my best here. If you do exist, for the love of everything holy, give me strength.
“You are as far from unappealing as it is possible to get, you foolish creature,” Dev all but snapped as the edges of his sanity unravelled.
“Then why do you keep turning away from me?”
Dev laughed, but it was a desperate sound with nothing remotely amusing about it. He moved away from her, unable to think with her body so close to his.
“Because you don’t know who I am,” he shouted, frustrated beyond anything he’d ever endured. “How can you put such trust in me to… to give yourself to me, when you don’t know the first thing about me?”
She gave him a pitying look, such warmth in her eyes Dev wanted to howl at the unfairness of life. Except it wasn’t unfair. He’d been due a reckoning. If this was the fates giving him his just deserts, then they couldn’t have devised a more perfect torture. It was a torment of the most exquisite variety.
“But I do know you,” she said, her voice soft as she inched closer. She reached out a hand, placing it upon his arm and Dev felt the heat of her touch upon his skin as though she scalded him. “I know you are the man who rescues kittens to please a little girl, a man who hadn’t the faintest idea what a potato looked like, but who was so delighted by the discovery he wanted to know every other plant in the garden. A man who wouldn’t take advantage of a woman in a moment of distress.” She pressed her cold cheek against his and whispered as though she was sharing a secret with him. “I know you are not so black-hearted as I first believed, as perhaps you believed yourself….”
“Stop it!” Dev shook her hand off and rubbed his own over his face as the guilt threatened to choke him.
What would she say if he revealed who he was? Would she still believe he could change? He swallowed as the truth settled in his stomach, cold and heavy and all too real. No. She would not.
Her hatred for the viscount had gone beyond mere anger and dislike. The name Devlin had become the embodiment of everything that was cruel and unjust in the world, and she would never forgive him if he told her now. He had to make amends first. If he proved the truth of his words, then, perhaps… if he begged hard enough, then she might forgive him.
“I am a bad man, Charity,” he said, with more honesty than any words he’d ever spoken before in his life. “I’ve done things you would despise me for, and it is not until now, knowing how you would despise me for them, that I realise how bad I have been.”
“But… but you don’t remember,” she said, puzzlement in her eyes.
“I remember.” He sucked in a breath, wondering how much he could tell her without having her guess the rest. He looked away from her, away from the shock in her eyes, wishing he could walk away from his past and start over, but it wasn’t possible. Was it? “I remember,” he said again, his voice low as anxiety twisted his guts in a knot. “And I am ashamed of everything have done.”
“Oh, David.”
She moved towards him, to comfort him even after his confession, and Dev held up a hand to force her to stay back. If she touched him again, he would lose his mind.
“But why? Why didn’t you tell us?”
Dev wondered what her reaction would be if he told her the truth. Because I wanted to hide here until it was safe, until the money from selling your home from under you was in my hands, and then… because I never wanted to leave.
Instead, he prevaricated.
“I’m no fit man for you, Charity, though it kills me to admit as much.”
She stared at him and Dev knew she had no reason to trust in him. He gathered his courage all the same, trying to forget the words she’d thrown at him when he’d refused to make love to her. I’d not marry a worthless rake like you if you begged me. Was that still how she felt? Had this simply been another chance to bed him, to forget her troubles for a night, before she did what was sensible and married Mr Ogden?
“I am everything you supposed me to be,” he said, hearing the loathing and bitterness behind the words. “A worthless rake who’d never done a day’s work in his life, but I want to change. I want to be more than that.”
Dev met her troubled gaze, trying and failing to judge the look in her eyes. He hoped she could hear the sincerity behind the words, hoped she’d seen the willingness in him to be a different man over the past weeks, enough to put her trust in him when good sense must tell her to run and not look back.
“There are things I must do but, if you can wait for me, I will return for you. I promise.”
“You’re leaving?”
Dev nodded, knowing it was the only way. “I must.”
Her expression was one of bewilderment, frustration and confusion as she shook her head. “But I can’t give you time. I don’t have any, you know I don’t. The farm will be sold in just a few weeks and… and Mr Ogden has proposed to me.” She dropped her gaze, which relieved him, at least he didn’t have to feign surprise.
“I’ve told him I need to think about it but… Oh, David, it solves everything. He will have a large house, room enough for all of us. He’s even offered Mr and Mrs Baxter a position and you know they’d never find another, not at their age. I confess that alone has cost me many sleepless nights. How can I refuse him?” she demanded, and it was a real question, a desire for him to give her an escape. “How can I say no, knowing everyone would be safe and cared for—”
“Because you don’t care for him,” Dev said, his voice rough. “You don’t love him or even desire him, and you’d be miserable, you know you would.”
Her eyes glittered, and she swallowed hard, yet that independent spirit still shone through.
“Who says I love you?” she demanded, a little indignant. “We hardly know each other.”
Dev smiled. Good Lord but he was caught, his heart snagged on a hook, and he wasn’t even struggling to get away any more. The stubborn tilt to her jaw, her desire to have the last word, her warmth and kindness; he loved everything about this woman. He loved her. The truth of it stole his breath.
“I know that,” he said, when he could speak again. The revelation filled his chest, warm and heavy and solid. It was the most frightening thing he’d ever experienced. “And I’m not saying you do.” He gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I’d be astonished if you did after all the dreadful things I’ve said to you, but… I’m not giving up hope that you could. If I tried hard enough.”
He reached out his hand, touching her cheek with his fingertips for a moment before letting them fall away. It was all he dared. “I can be very persuasive, you know.”
Her expression softened for a moment and she let out a reluctant huff of amusement. “I don’t doubt it,” she said, the words a little tart but warm all the same. She looked up at him from under her lashes. “I like arguing with you. More than I like talking to most other people.”
The admission made the warmth in his chest expand further, He watched a rueful smile curved the corners of her mouth and gave a startled laugh.
“As do I.”
“Oh, David, what shall we do?” she said, clutching her arms about herself. “Is that even your name?” she asked and then cursed as she saw the truth on his face. “You lied to me,” she said, her voice full of sorrow.
Dev held his breath as he saw the disappointment in her eyes. Had he played this wrong? Should he have kept silent until he could reveal the whole truth? He was only giving her more reasons to run from him.
“How can I ever trust you?”
There was such anguish behind the words Dev felt his throat ache, it was hard to swallow, harder to form the word
s he needed but he forced them out.
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his hand over his face, suddenly exhausted, worn down, yet he must fight for this, for her. There was no other way. “I don’t know why you should trust me. I can’t give you one single reason which would make any sense other than I pray you will.” He moved towards her and clasped her hands. “This… these feelings in my heart, they’re foreign to me, Charity. I’ve never known the like before. The desire to please someone other than myself…. It’s new and strange, and bloody terrifying if you want the truth.”
He gave her a twisted smile. “I can tell you this much. I am a wealthy man, I can take care of you, and your family, and Mr and Mrs Baxter too, only… there are things I must do first. I will tell you everything else you want to know when I return, I’ll reveal every corner of my black soul if you’ll only give me a chance.”
Charity withdrew her hands and got to her feet. “And how do I know you’ll return?” she demanded, her voice brittle with anxiety. “What if I wait and you get cold feet? What if Mr Ogden doesn’t want to wait any longer and you don’t return at all? I’ll have lost everything. Not just me, but everyone. We’ll be right back where we started.”
“I won’t, love,” he said, begging her to believe in him when everything she now knew must force her to question every word he said. “You can trust me, I swear it.”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice faint now as she shook her head. “I don’t know what to do, who to trust. You’ve just said everything I want to hear, but how can I believe you after all the deceit? I want to believe you though. I want to more than anything.”
Dev watched as she clutched her arms about herself. She shivered, her slender figure so full of sorrow it broke his heart. He got to his feet and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight, rubbing circles over her back and she sank into his embrace with a sigh.
“I know it, and I can’t defend who I was, only who I want to be. This is where you belong though, with me. You know it as well as I do.”
Charity and The Devil (Rogues and Gentlemen Book 11) Page 12