Devil at the Gates

by Lauren Smith

  “January seventh, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Johnson.” The driver bowed his head as Redmond left. He had to find Harriet, if only to assure himself that she was safe. As he entered the great hall, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. But not by living eyes…

  “Thomas, please,” he murmured, feeling foolish again for talking to the air. As the feeling began to fade, he exhaled in relief. He had a real, living, breathing demon now to defend against. He could not afford to worry about ghosts in the shadows.

  Harriet had felt those spectral eyes upon her again. She shivered, but when she looked up, she saw only Redmond watching her, not a ghost. Her body began to hum as she noticed the intensity of his gaze.

  She put her book down and started toward him. “Red?”

  The duke acted fast, grasping her waist and pinning her against the nearest bookcase. He held her tightly to him, one hand wound around her back and the other fisting gently in the coils of her hair as he inhaled her scent and kissed her neck.

  “I’m glad I found you,” he said. His words sounded odd, as though he had not expected to find her at all. It made her wonder if that was indeed what he meant.

  What had begun as a gentle hold turned harder for both of them. The bookshelf creaked as Redmond pressed her against it, and she gasped as bolts of arousal shot through her. The duke’s desire was evident, but she was too short for him to easily reach down to kiss her mouth. She tried to curl one leg around his waist and cursed her cumbersome skirts. She dug at his coat, pulling it off him as he playfully nipped her shoulder.

  She loved his possessive grip on her body as he lifted her up and set her down on the ledge of the bookshelf. He hiked up her mauve silk skirts to her waist so she could part her legs. Redmond was an excitement she had never imagined possible. Her hands tangled in his flaming hair as she quested for deeper kisses. Redmond groaned against her mouth, and his hands drifted down her back to her backside. He clenched her hard, urgently, pulling her tightly to him.

  “I want you, Red,” she whispered frantically. “Here.” She didn’t care if anyone saw them. All she knew was that she wanted his body against hers. He dropped a hand to the front of his trousers as she pushed aside her underpinnings.

  His eyes were the color of wheat fields, burning with a golden intensity as he stepped into the cradle of her thighs and slid one hand down to her core. He stroked her with his fingertips, teasing her until she wanted to scream at him for not being inside her.

  “Please, you’re teasing me,” she growled, and he shifted his hips, penetrating her now, filling her up.

  She moaned, her head falling back as he withdrew and thrust back into her. She bucked against him, delighting in their almost violent union, and she reveled in the pleasure that seemed to rebound between them. Redmond breathed hard as he plunged deep and fast. It almost hurt to feel him enter her over and over with such vigor, but she liked the exciting edge of uncertainty that came with making love to him. He was a man of intensities: intense passion, intense tenderness. Yet she knew he would never hurt her. She spread her legs more, clinging to him as he claimed her relentlessly. Then she pulled his mouth back to hers, her arms twining about his neck as he rocked back and forth.

  The shelf behind her shifted with the force of their lovemaking. His hard length filled her, prolonging her desire to come. His strength was all-encompassing, his passion beyond words. It was like she was making love to a sun god, not a dark devil. He was all fire and pleasure. She gave in to the sinful force of their bodies colliding and could not imagine ever leaving him.

  Redmond’s eyes glinted as he stared down at her, knowing full well the pleasure he was giving her. It only made him move faster, filling her body with his. His rough and possessive drive threw her over the edge into sizzling sensations of obliterating pleasure. She cried out. He covered her mouth with his, swallowing her scream and kissing her until she was quivering, feeling only the sensations of pleasure rioting through her body.

  He gasped, holding her tightly as his muscles went rigid. Then he seemed to recover, and he rocked inside her, tender and sweet now as he pressed kisses to the crown of her hair. Her body clenched around him as aftershocks of pleasure made her womb tighten. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he shuddered, his body trembling almost as hard as hers. She wanted to hold him and never let go.

  Her breath was shaky as she placed soft kisses against his neck. He stroked her hair, the ferocity of their almost frantic coupling settling into the sweetest of moments. The duke, with all of his near brutal seduction, was a masterful lover, and she was bound to him now, bound by adoration and fascination. She realized then—as he stole a deep, lingering kiss that made her toes curl—that she was falling in love with him.

  You fell in love with him weeks ago, a voice murmured inside her head. She could not find a way to deny it.

  When Redmond withdrew from her, she missed him instantly. He fixed his trousers and then put her dress to rights before he lifted her up off the shelf and set her on her feet. She almost collapsed into him on her shaky legs.

  “Sorry,” she said shyly.

  “Don’t apologize. A man likes to think he’s a good lover, and when he leaves a lady weak-kneed, that’s solid proof.” He caught her hand and pulled her toward one of the fainting couches near the windows and lay down, pulling her on top of him. She almost protested at the intimate position, but considering how they’d just made love against a bookshelf in the middle of the day…

  His lashes fluttered down as he sighed and relaxed beneath her. She shifted to tuck herself in between the side of the couch and his body. He wrapped an arm around her, and she laid her cheek against his chest. The slow, steady beat of his heart was an unexpected intimacy. She stole one more look at him, counting the ghost of freckles upon his nose and cheeks in the bright winter sunlight.

  “You should rest,” he said with a small chuckle. Blissful delight moved through her as slow as molasses, and she grinned sheepishly, even though his eyes were still closed and he couldn’t see.

  “Red…” She spoke his name tentatively. “Can I stay with you?”

  “Stay?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what awaits me in France. I was so desperate to escape before, but now I feel safe here with you. I don’t want to leave in the spring.” She held her breath, knowing how very mad she was to beg him like this. “You don’t need to change anything. I don’t expect… I just wish to stay, in whatever way you would let me.”

  He opened his eyes. “You would be content to be my secret lover?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “As long as I can love you, that is all I require.”

  He cupped her cheek and sighed. “You truly are the sweetest little creature I’ve ever met. Where were you seven years ago? Why couldn’t it have been you?” he uttered, his voice a little hoarse. She understood. Seven years ago, he’d pledged his heart to another woman, and he’d been hurt. Betrayed. He wished he could go back; it was clear in his eyes. He couldn’t erase the years that had passed by or banish the ghosts in the shadows.

  “Sleep,” he said.

  She laid her head on his chest, fighting tears over the fact that he hadn’t said she could stay. She would give him time, and she would wait to see if he changed his mind.

  Just as she closed her eyes, surrounded by the warmth of his body and the sunlight streaming through the windows, she thought she heard him whisper, “Perhaps I will keep you.”

  9

  Harriet wasn’t sure how long she had slept, but when she woke, she was alone on the fainting couch. Redmond must have draped a blanket over her and cradled her head with a soft blue velvet pillow. Redmond’s scent was still there, that faint hint of the woods and snow. She breathed in deeply and blinked slowly, rubbing her eyes with her fists.

  She was usually such a light sleeper, so she was surprised that she hadn’t woken when Redmond had slipped her off his body. Where had he gone to? He probably ha
d more ducal estate matters to concern himself with, but nevertheless, she missed him.

  Stretching her limbs, Harriet dropped the blanket from her body and took stock of her appearance. Her gown was dreadfully wrinkled, and her hair was quite mussed, but did it matter? No one was here to see her or judge her other than the servants, and she knew that they liked her. More importantly, they liked her being with Redmond. Their time together was changing him for the better. Mrs. Breland had confessed the previous week that he was finally starting to act like the man he’d been seven years ago. That thought alone made Harriet’s heart fill with joy.

  Harriet felt wonderful, spectacular, better than she had ever felt before in her life, though that probably had something to do with their rough-and-tumble lovemaking against the bookshelf. She bit her lip to stifle a fit of giggles when she noticed the massive pile of books that had fallen off the top shelf. Their lovemaking had been earth-shattering.

  She climbed off the fainting couch and walked over to try to clean up the chaos. After putting the books away, she stepped back and looked at the shelf in satisfaction. No one would guess what she and Redmond had done here. She exited the library to find Devil waiting for her just outside.

  “Well, hello there. Are you looking for Redmond?”

  Devil rose from a seated position, holding a long knotted piece of rope, and then he crouched defensively, clearly ready to play.

  “Oh, I see. Redmond is busy, and so you’ve come looking for me.” Harriet laughed, catching the end of the rope and tugging it hard. Devil thrashed his head back and forth, trying to shake her hold free, just as he did with Redmond. After several minutes, Harriet was breathless as she let him at last have his triumph and pull the rope free of her hand.

  He trotted to the far end of the corridor and paused to eye the end of a runner rug before he dug furiously in an attempt to bury the rope. Then he returned to her, a decidedly smug canine expression on his face, as though he was convinced he’d successfully hidden the rope from her. He continued to follow her around the house as she explored Frostmore room by room once again. It was a vast house, with many darkened chambers and locked doors. Servants bustled around her when she came upon them, and they offered warm smiles. She’d come to fit into life at Frostmore in the last few weeks.

  Harriet paused in the long picture gallery, admiring Redmond’s portrait. She preferred the real duke in person, but while he was busy in his study, she found this portrait of him comforting. She shook her head and looked down at Devil.

  “I am unaccustomed to wishing to be with someone so much, especially a man.” She scratched the dog’s folded ears, which felt soft as velvet. She felt like she could confess anything to her attentive companion. “I’m in love with him, you see, and when I’m with him I feel strong and brave. Does that make me silly?”

  The dog cocked his head to one side, as if considering her question. Then his tongue flopped out of his mouth, destroying the thoughtful expression.

  “Not so silly, then?” The dog barked once, and she giggled. “Where is your master? In his study, I suppose. Does daylight offend his demon sensibilities?” She’d come to call him her demon lover sometimes, because he had been so wicked upon their first meeting, and now… She was spellbound by his carnal hungers and couldn’t resist teasing him for them.

  Devil licked her hand.

  “Let’s go bring him some tea and biscuits.” She gave Redmond’s portrait a lingering look before they left the hall of Redmond’s ancestors. She felt a dozen gazes coming through the centuries of painted oil faces as she passed them by. She only hoped the ghosts caught within the canvases would find her worthy of Redmond.

  Redmond held the letter from George Halifax again, staring down at the words that had sent him running to find Harriet a few hours ago. Then he cast it into the hearth across from his desk and watched it burn.

  Grindle appeared in his study doorway. “Your Grace… You have a visitor.”

  “Oh?” Redmond straightened in his chair. He wasn’t expecting anyone. “Who?”

  “Mr. George Halifax.” Grindle’s somber expression warned Redmond that Grindle recognized the name and was as displeased as Redmond was to hear it. He’d shared with Grindle just a short while ago that Halifax was Harriet’s stepfather and that Redmond didn’t trust the man at all. He’d confided in Grindle that he could even pose a danger to Harriet.

  “Bring him to me. But first, find Harriet. Take her to my bedchamber and keep her there. I do not want him to know she is here.”

  “A wise decision, Your Grace.” The butler left, and Redmond rubbed his temples as his head began to ache behind his eyes. All he wanted was to be back with Harriet in the library. He regretted leaving her sleeping so sweetly without him. When they had lain there together, she had snuggled up against him so tenderly, it was as though she meant to keep him as close to her as she could. Whenever he’d taken Millicent to bed, she’d always wished to return to her chamber afterward. It had wounded him to be denied the intimacy of holding her in his arms, feeling connected. Now he had found that connection with Harriet, and if he wasn’t careful, it could all be stolen from him.

  George Halifax was soon shown into Redmond’s study. The man was tall and muscular, but fairly thick and most likely not in peak physical condition. Redmond couldn’t help but measure himself against the man, and he decided with certainty that he could best him in any form of combat. He stood up and nodded for Halifax to take a seat.

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Your Grace. I know we have not been formally acquainted, and I hate to impose upon you, but I sent you a letter a few days ago. Did you receive it?”

  “I did, though I confess I only just read it this morning.”

  “So you know that it concerns a grave matter. My ward, Miss Russell, is missing. Her mother has passed away, and I find myself in the position of being Miss Russell’s sole guardian. I have been worried sick over her whereabouts. You are a bastion of strength to Dover. I knew I could trust you to help me once you heard of my plight.” Halifax’s expression was earnest and open, but Redmond had learned long ago that people could pretend to be something they weren’t. Still, even if the man was full of lies, those lies might unwittingly reveal a truth.

  “I am listening, Mr. Halifax.”

  “I married Miss Russell’s mother six years ago and raised her daughter as my own. She was a willful child, and while I admire spirit in young ladies, it was clear my Harriet was far more spirited than is tolerable.”

  Redmond curled his hands into fists beneath his desk when Halifax said “my Harriet,” but he let the man continue.

  “Her mother fell ill and has only just passed away, but before she died, Harriet ran away and stole my coach and driver in the process. Her mother wished for me to continue as her guardian until after her birthday, but I fear it may have to be longer than that. She is vulnerable, and I believe prone to fits of madness.”

  “Fits of madness?” Redmond asked quietly.

  Halifax’s tone turned graver still. “Yes. She’s capable of violent outbursts and spinning fantastical tales. To run away from the shelter of my home while her mother lay dying? That is proof enough to me that she needs special care. I only wish to have her back under my roof to protect her from herself.”

  The man was a remarkable actor. If Redmond hadn’t had the instinct so deeply ingrained in him to mistrust people’s motives, he would have been tempted to believe Halifax over Harriet.

  “I put my faith and trust in you, Your Grace, that you would tell me if she was here.”

  Redmond didn’t miss the slight hint of an accusation in Halifax’s words. He must have suspected that the only logical place a woman could find shelter in the surrounding area would be his home. He was tempted to call Halifax out for suggesting he would lie, but he was going to lie about Harriet.

  “I would, but she is not here. I do, however, have your coach and your driver.” Redmond thought quickly on his feet. “We encountered t
he vehicle broken down upon the road a few weeks ago. He made mention of helping your stepdaughter, but he said the moment the coach overturned she abandoned him. He suffered a broken leg, and a doctor from nearby has been assisting in his recovery. He is still not able to move on his leg and must continue to convalesce here a few more weeks, but I can have your coach horses ready to leave in an hour if you wish to take them home. I would have contacted you sooner, Mr. Halifax, but my business has kept me away, and I have only just returned to learn of the incident this morning from my butler.”

  Halifax nodded, as if Redmond’s excuse was quite believable. “I would be glad to take the coach and horses now, and I trust if my daughter appears on your estate, you will take the necessary steps to return her to my care?”

  Redmond wanted to punch the man so hard his jaw broke, but the game was still afoot, so instead he smiled and held out his hand to shake Halifax’s.

  “Of course. She sounds quite disturbed and would benefit from a firm, caring hand.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. In the meantime, I have already begun the paperwork to have her declared disturbed. The magistrate in Faversham will be signing the papers any day now.” Halifax smiled, and this time, a bit of his true desires slipped out. A hint of a triumphant gleam lingered a moment too long in his eyes.

  “My man, Grindle, will show you out now.”

  Halifax exited the study, and Redmond sank back in his chair, a knot of concern tightening in his stomach. He had no doubt that Harriet was still in danger, now more than ever. He didn’t trust Halifax to stay away from his lands. It was clear from the man’s sharp gaze that he thought Redmond was lying. Halifax had likely searched both Dover and Faversham already. Frostmore was the most logical choice for a woman to hide. That meant Harriet wasn’t safe here. She would never be able to leave the grounds, possibly not even the house. She would slowly wither away from being closed off from the world like that. The thought that had lingered darkly at the edges of his thoughts now returned and was unavoidable. Harriet could not stay. She needed to leave, to go somewhere permanently out of Halifax’s reach.