by Hannah West
Troubled suddenly over the thought of her needing medicine he asked, “It is for you?”
“What,” she asked confused, and then her expression cleared. “No, it is not for me. I have a younger sister who has always been sickly. But no one knows what truly makes her sick.”
He was vastly glad it was not her that was sick, but it troubled him that it still affected her since it was her young sister.
“How old is she?” he asked suddenly.
“She is eleven,” she answered back honestly.
“I can imagen she looks just like you,” he said with a smile, imaging a younger version Milia.
But she shook her head. “No, she does not. She has golden curls and bright green eyes. She looks like an angel.” Then her tone grew darker, “But she has suffered much in her young life.”
A sudden and unexplainable need to help he had never felt before over took him. He could not explain it but he wanted to help this poor wayward young woman.
But at the same time he was distracted by the distinct feeling of female flesh against him through his waist coat. Trying to put off the desirous thoughts that flooded his mind, he asked another question.
“How old are you?” As soon as the words left his mouth he eyes closed in silent regret. Of all the things he could have asked.
She turned in his arms and raised a brow at him. “You sure are bold,” she stated.
Unable to take it back he nodded and agreed.
“Well, if you must know I am seventeen, soon to be eighteen this fall. If I had to guess I would put in five or so years older than me. You have a rather young face.”
This amused him at the same time it made him want to cringe. She was barely out of the school room, as the saying went. And here he sat with her across his lap upon his horse.
Suddenly this did not seem so wise to him.
“What, no reply?” she quipped.
As if it were pulled from his mouth he told her, very unwillingly, his age. “I am twenty-six this past summer.”
“Oh,” she said her tone a little surprised. “You are older than I would have thought.”
Her to surprise he laughed which seemed to startle her. He was enjoying this encounter, but he would admit that it would be unwise to continue to meet the mysterious young miss.
He was not such an important at the moment but one day he would be and he could not damage that future at the cost of his two young twin sisters. His father was a fickle man who could not control his spending habits and Devon knew he would leave his mother and sisters without a penny to their name.
So he would do what he should. He would leave the lovely little Milia at the edge of town and carry on without thinking on her again.
If only it was so easy. Milia had gotten under his skin.
Chapter Five
“What is going on in that head of yours, boy?” asked an aged voice that seemed exasperated.
Devon looked up from the papers on the work bench to where his grandfather, his mother’s father, stood tall in the narrow door way. He had a curious look on his face.
His grandfather, Sir Michael, was at the other end of the nobility scale then his father, the Marquis of Lakewood, but had made it rich in merchant trade and factories. He was a rather jolly and happy man, who rarely lost his temper but could be stiff around those he did not know, while Devon’s father had a nasty temper when he over drank or didn’t get his way.
He had been more of a father to Devon, then his own had been and for that he was very grateful. Nothing could have been worse than turning out like his father.
Though he would never say it out loud Devon wished for his father’s death. Oh, he didn’t use to but at the age of thirteen when he had come home from school and had seen his mother’s beaten face, a dark searing desire had stirred within him.
Stepping into library his grandfather raised a brow at him. “Have you gone deaf?”
Devon smiled. “No, I can hear you just fine. My thoughts have wondered.”
Wondered over a very pretty young woman he should not be thinking about. It had been three days since he last saw her and he wanted seek her out.
“What were you thinking on?” he asked taking a seat next to Devon.
Instead of telling of his desirous thoughts of the young Miss Milia, he touched upon the subject of his mother. His grandfather did not know of how bad her life truly was, but he had never liked the Marquis. But he had loved his daughter and she had loved the young Marquis while the Marquis had loved her dowry.
“Mama was thinking for coming for a visit and bringing the girls,” Devon answered, telling his grandfather of her letter that had come.
The older man’s face lightened up like a flame and he slapped Devon on the back. “Glad to hear it. I need kisses and hugs from my girls. Not that you aren’t enough, Devon.”
Devon grinned. “I rather like to think I am sometimes too much.”
His grandfather burst out laughing. “You can be,” he agreed. But suddenly his expression turned serious. “Her last letter to me spoke of your father’s health.”
Devon could not have cared less about his father’s health, but even after all the abuse his mother still cared for the monster.
“I know you care for him no more than I, and as much as I hate to be brought joy at another’s suffering, your father’s health is failing. The doctor says it’s from the drink. He doesn’t have much time left from the sound of it.”
The health of Devon’s father had been getting worse for years and at the worst of times it pained his mother too much to see it so she went on trips. His mother was a gentle creature and could not bear the pain of others.
“You know my feelings on the matter,” Devon said flatly.
His grandfather nodded. “I understand, but I also had my man of affairs look into the family finances.”
Devon felt two inches tall at the disappointment in his grandfather’s tone. He made it sound as if it were Devon’s fault as well.
“You found little, I am sure. You know what sort of man my father is. I have secured the girls dowries however, and he cannot touch them,” Devon returned before taking a drink out of his nearby glass.
“How he spent his way through the dowry I gave your mother is beyond me. But the family is worse off than I thought. It is a state of ruin Devon, and soon it will be yours. I would be the last to tell you this if it was not necessary but you will have to find a way to restore the Lakewood coffers.”
A self-made man himself, he would want his grandson to do that same. Devon believed in self-worth as well which is why years ago he started doing just that in preparation for the future he knew would soon weight on him.
However interested in what he had to say Devon asked, “And what are my options?”
With a glint of humor in his grandfather’s he replied, “Why, you marry rich of course!”
Chapter Six
Days passed with fleeting thoughts of the dark haired beauty he had met in the wood. Finally his incessant need to see her, hear her sweet voice that lilted with her charming accent, was too much.
Pushing away from his desk he made for the front parlor to tell his grandfather he would be going out for a while.
Over the last few days Devon knew his grandfather had pick up on his rather unusual mood and notice his grandfather grinning at him every time he went out.
“Where are you going, my boy?” he asked with his curious, telling grin.
“Out for a ride. Do you need anything from the village while I am out?”
“There was supposed to be the finished plans for the new mill if you can pick those up front the office,” he mentioned then added, “Don’t get lost on the way back.”
Devon snorted a dry laugh and head out to where his horse waited.
~
One would think searching out a brightly dressed young woman would be easy, however he had already rode about the area he had first seen her for an hour with no success.
S
ighing with disappointment he turned his horse around to head back in the direction of the village. At least he could still pick up the paper work his grandfather needed.
Bitter disappointment for not seeing Milia welled within his chest and that surprised him. The emotion was stronger than he would have thought it and he wondered where she had gone off to. What did she like to do and what filled her days?
He was surprised to realize how little he really knew about the young woman who caught his attention. Really all he knew about her was her name, age and the fact she was a gypsy drifter.
In truth she could just be playing him as he had heard tales of gypsies doing such.
Had she been flirting harmlessly while he had invested more into their two chance meetings?
Deciding to take a break at his favorite childhood spot on his grandfather’s property he cut across through the wooded area some distance off.
As a guy boy during the visits he had been allowed he had enjoyed going to a fishing pond his grandfather had been fond of as a young boy as well. It had once had a cottage a ways off where his great grandfather’s mistress had lived.
Devon dismounted from his horse when he got close and walked in the proper direction. It had been few years since he had come back to this spot where he had dreamed of changing everything.
As he neared the pond he heard the playful splashing before he saw who caused it. As he peered around a leafy bush he went slack-jawed in stunned amazement.
In the middle of the pond stood a naked Athena, a goddess of beauty so great his heart stuttered. Her midnight black hair fell in soft, wet curls to her well rounded hips that made his mouth water and her stunning face was shadowed in profile. But from his view he saw one pert breast and lush pink nipple peeking out of a few strands of hair. She fingered the loose strands of hair before she took a breath and fell beneath the water’s gloss surface.
When she came up she was facing away from him completely, scrubbing her hair free of the extra bubbles.
Devon was so enwrapped in what she was doing that he had not noticed himself growing hard beneath the belt. He had never quite thought of her this way, but now that he saw her free of her strange clothing he would never let her wear clothes again if she were his.
Suddenly he came back to himself to realize he was gawking like a lad of ten who was seeing his first naked woman, instead of his well experienced self. He was acting like a pervert hiding behind that bush.
A blush of shame burned his cheeks and he turned away to leave when he tripped on a rock sending him flying backward into the brush, crashing down with the noise of a thousand stomping boots.
Mid-tumble Devon heard her gasp, then movement in the water before a shriek and big splash. He landed just in time to see the water fly into the air and her disappear beneath the surface.
As he quickly got to his feet he saw that she had head for the outcropping or boulders around the bend that could hide her, but he knew that spot on the other side was deeper than she would have realized.
When she didn’t surface right away and a few bubble trickled to the surface the icy prick of fear touched the back of his neck. Without knowing why he was suddenly moving, jerking off his overcoat, boots and jacket before launching himself into the crystal clear water to save her.
As he slid through the chilled water he aimed for where he saw her go down. When he reached her she was almost to the bottom of the ponds deepest area. Reaching out he grabbed her and pushed off from the bottom to bring them both to the surface.
When she didn’t cough and sputter when they broke the surface a chill of panic went down his spine.
Why was she not breathing?
Next he noticed the blood flowing from her right temple. In a real panic now he tugged her to the shore, laid her out quickly but carefully and checked for breath. When none came forth, without waiting he covered her nose and pressed his lips to her to breathe air into her lungs.
After a few breaths her body jerked and he quickly let go as she doubled over and hacked out the water that had settled in her lungs.
He gently pulled her hair away from her face as she tried to regain her breathing.
She turned her icy blue eyes on him and he gaze was drawn to her chest which moved with each shallow breath before he looked back to her enchanting face.
She reminded him of a wee fairy that his mother used to talk about when he was a child.
Falling in to her deep gaze, her eyes dilating, the next thing he knew, he found himself pulling her into his arms and kissing her.
The moment his lips touched her soft ones the world as he knew it tilted as it never had before. Breath mingling he closed his eyes and fell into the kiss with a groan of desire.
Chapter Seven
One moment she had been dazed and staring at the man who had caused her to almost drown and next he was mauling her with his lips.
She should have hated him touching her, but oddly her brain was still swimming and she liked the warm felt of her lips against his. They moved together, meshing and blending. But the moment she felt his tongue prod against her lips her instincts took over.
Malia’s hand flung out on its own accord and cracked against his cheek as she cried out and pushed away from him.
Coming completely back to herself she felt embarrassment dawn, flushing hotly.
Raising a hand to his stinging cheek she watched as his expression changed from shock to cocky. His green eyes flashing, a slow grin crept over his lips.
“Liked that did you?” he asked cheekily.
Her blush deepened with her embarrassment before she realized that she was still naked. Trying to cover as much as she could she demanded, “Look away!”
He settled back onto his hands, grin widening to show teeth. “But why would I when the view is so enchanting?”
“Oh!” she gasped before looking around and snagging his over coat to cover herself. “You are such a pig! And this is all of your fault. Why sneak up on a girl as she bathes?”
The breeze tumbled his blond hair as he answered, “Well this is the first time I have come upon a lady bathing in a pond. Most bathe in private in their homes.”
He winced inwardly at how carcass that sounded. He knew she did not live in a home such as he did or even the villagers.
But she snapped back at him instead of becoming pliant and shy like any other woman would and he found that he liked the fire that flashed in her eyes.
“I was bathing in private until you came along. Can you not just leave me in peace? I have done nothing to you and want nothing more to do with you.”
With the intention of storming away from him she rose to her feet but lost her balance as a spell of dizziness over took her. Expecting to hit the ground she closed her eyes and embraced for impact, but it never came.
Instead a strong arm helped her up and he quickly set her to rights before letting her go.
Grateful he saved her from a tumble but still mad over him taking liberty with her person she knew she needed to leave.
“Be careful,” he said, suddenly gentle. “You hit your head pretty hard and have a bad scrape.”
Having not noticed it she reached up and touched something warm and sticky at her temple. A burning pain flared and she winced.
“Lovely,” she hissed before looking at the blood on her fingers. “My family will not let this pass. They will ask until they get their answers.”
Eyes flashing she glared at him. “Leave me alone from now on if you know what is good for you. If you had been one of the Romani you would either be dead or forced to marry me and I would never have you.”
She rose again and went to collect her clothes while being careful not to give in to the light headedness.
Malia shook off his hand and glared at him when he tried to stop her. “Leave me alone, suka,” she hissed.
He raised his hands and she rushed off thinking of how she would explain this one away to her mother and sister.
She was angry
with the man for thinking he could treat her like some common village harlot. He did not know it but she was also the daughter of a powerful lord and that fact alone should have his respect.
Any man should respect all woman no matter their birth, but Malia guessed this was good practice for the men she would face in her father’s world. The king that thought their money could let the get away with anything, the entitled pigs.
Chapter Eight
It had now been seven days since he last saw Malia, a week since she demanded he leave her alone and since he could not get her off his mind.
He came to the realization finally of why he was so attracted to her. It was more then just a physical attraction, which he would admit was one of the strongest he had ever felt, but he was interested in her do to her rather coarse and unrefined she was. He was attracted to the difference in her composure to all the other young misses he had come across.
Devon liked the wild type of woman, one who would not back down in the face of something she strongly believes in. That kind of blunt honesty was refreshing and utterly rare.
So Devon decided not to give up and get her to give him another chance and he knew just how to get her to do that. He knew she came to the village once a week in the afternoon to pick up medicine for her sister; he would get her to talk to him then.
So here he sat at the little bakeshop in town sipping at a bitter cup of tea, watching over the top of his paper for her.
She came a little later then he would have thought but after she walked around the edge of the shops he saw her head to the poorest part of the village where even he did not go.
Leaving behind the bitter tea he followed her without another thought. She was quick on her feet and he did not catch up to her until she was already deep into the worse part of the village.