Devil at the Gates

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Devil at the Gates Page 11

by Lauren Smith


  Or she could stay…if you weren’t such a coward to marry again, a dark voice whispered inside him.

  But it was the truth. He was afraid to marry again, afraid to tie his life to another person’s after the betrayal he’d suffered the last time. What if he was wrong about how Harriet seemed to feel about him? What if she didn’t love him the way he hoped to be loved? He couldn’t bear to have another Millicent situation; this time there wouldn’t be anyone to stop him from stepping off the cliffs and answering that frightening call of the void and the death that would follow.

  If she stayed and he married her, he’d face legal ramifications in the courts, but at least Harriet would be his. But it would be easier—and safer for his heart—to send her far away from here where she could be free of her stepfather.

  And I can go back to being alone.

  A deep ache settled inside his chest as he left his study. He heard Grindle say goodbye to Halifax, and he waited just out of sight until the door closed.

  “Did you find Harriet?” he asked.

  “Yes, Your Grace. She is in your room.”

  “Thank you.” He paused. “Have a groom trail that man’s coach as far as he can without being seen. Have him stick to the woods if possible, then return. I wish to know if Mr. Halifax takes any detours.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Redmond hurried up the stairs and burst inside his chambers. Harriet stood ready to fight, a fencing blade at the ready and Devil by her side.

  “Oh, heavens, Red, you frightened us! We heard footsteps on the stairs and thought…”

  Redmond came to her and gently removed the sword from her hand and let it clatter to the floor. Devil barked once and then trotted over to the carpet by the fireplace and settled down, resting his head on his paws.

  “It’s all right. He’s gone.” Redmond wrapped his arms around Harriet, stunned at how the strong, brave woman only drew out his fiercely protective side.

  She buried her face in his neck. “I cannot go back, Red. You don’t know what he’s like.” She whispered the words so softly it seemed as if he might’ve imagined them.

  “I know.” He brushed a hand down her back and cupped her head with his other hand, feeling her golden hair like sunlight warming his fingertips.

  “You do?”

  “Mr. Johnson warned me about him this morning. He told me about Halifax. Harriet… Your mother is gone. Halifax told me she passed.”

  She burrowed deeper into his arms. “I knew it. I sensed it, the way a heavy storm finally clears and pale watery skies replace the gloom. I couldn’t feel her pain in my heart anymore.” She sniffled. “There’s a bleak emptiness there instead.”

  “You aren’t empty,” Redmond reassured her. Once, long ago, he’d dreamed of being close like this to his wife, to offer comfort and love, yet he had never been given the chance. And now Harriet, the woman who could have offered him so much, the woman he could have given anything to, could not belong to him.

  “What if he learns I’m here?” She pulled back to look up at him. “I won’t be safe anywhere. He’s not afraid of anything.”

  “You think he’d come onto my lands to try to hurt you while I’m here?”

  Harriet answered with a slow nod, her eyes full of a weariness that worried him more than he wished to admit.

  “Even if I stayed here, and had all the protection a duke could offer, I don’t think it would be enough, Red. He won’t stop coming after me, and I don’t want to put you or the staff here at risk.”

  He wanted to disagree, to tell her that she was safe, but it would be a lie, and he didn’t want any lies between them.

  “You’re right. He’s a dangerous man. The only way to keep you safe is for you to go. You must leave tomorrow morning. We’ll ride to Dover and find you a ship. The Channel has not yet become too treacherous for a winter crossing. I’ll see to it you have money for clothes and food. You’ll have plenty to set yourself up with in Calais or Normandy where your father’s family is.”

  Harriet’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “You want me to leave?”

  “I would give anything for you to stay. But fate has other plans, I fear. I don’t trust Halifax either.”

  “Even having escaped him, George has managed to out-fence me,” she muttered. “He has still won, even if he does not possess me, because he has denied me happiness, and I must leave the second place in my life that truly felt like home.”

  “Yes, you must,” Redmond agreed. “He means to prove you are mad or disturbed so as to retain guardianship over you, even after you would have legally escaped him. He’s already begun the paperwork with the magistrate in Faversham.”

  Fresh terror struck her face. “Oh Lord, Red.”

  He held her fast, not letting her go as she trembled again in his arms.

  “We’ll arrange with Grindle and Mrs. Breland for you to leave tomorrow.” The words felt bitter upon his tongue.

  She was quiet a long moment before she raised her face to his. “Red, I don’t want to leave.”

  “You must.” Even if it kills me to let you go.

  She tried to pull away, to turn her back, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead he gathered her close again. Her slender hands twisted anxiously before they settled on his chest. Misery tore through him, leaving an emptiness inside his heart, except for a faint glow that she’d kindled weeks ago from a dying fire.

  “I could arrange for you to have a home in France, but I couldn’t come to you, not right away. He will have eyes following me, I’m certain of that.”

  “No, you cannot do that. He could find out somehow. Better if I go alone with no connection between us.”

  Her words, even though they were meant to protect them both, burned like a hot poker against his heart.

  “I will fight him in the courts. I have influence over the magistrate in Dover, and I’m certain that with time, I could gain enough power in Faversham to find a way to reverse whatever ruling the judge makes if it’s in Halifax’s favor. I’ll need time, time where I can know you’re safe, far away from him.”

  “Oh please, Red.” Her tormented tone pulled at him, and he knew that if he did not kiss her one last time he might perish. So he defied the agony and pain that formed an invisible shroud inside him and stole another kiss.

  “We have but the fading daylight left, my darling.” He brushed his nose against hers before pressing his lips to hers, soft but urgently. A powerful sense of awakening from a very long, terrible dream stole over him, one that had held him trapped for seven years.

  Harriet kissed him back, her youthful passion and sweet ardor like a flash of brilliant light. It reminded him of when he had been a lad roaming in the attics. When he’d gotten bored, he’d thrown a few stones around and shattered a dust-covered window. The explosion of light had blinded him. It had been the single most glorious experience of his life, to feel the bright sun burning his body, reminding him of the joys of being alive, being outside and living in the world.

  “Harriet,” he murmured against her lips. “Against the will of my hesitant heart, I have fallen in love with you.”

  He didn’t want to go another moment without having said these words. Yes, he would lose her. Yes, he would never find this feeling again with anyone else, but at least he would have said it. At least he would know that she felt the same.

  Her blue eyes were soft like a sunny summer sky. “I love you too. More than is wise, but I love you all the same.” Her melancholy smile echoed his own pain.

  It was all that needed to be said between them as he carried her to his bed.

  They took their time undressing each other. He memorized the slopes and curves that made her unique, that made her exquisite perfection. She was his light in the gloom, the piece of his life he’d thought lost years ago.

  Redmond laid her down beneath him, covering her face with kisses. He savored her shivers and sighs as he kissed his way down her body. She giggled as he nibbled on one nipple and then the
other. Her hands dug through his hair in a way that made his entire body go rigid with pleasure. She scraped her nails down the back of his neck, which made him groan. Then he placed kisses on her stomach as he made his way down between her legs. She had become less shy these past few weeks, and he enjoyed how free she seemed to be with him, their passions equal to one another.

  Now skin to skin, two joined as one, he entered her gently. It was an exquisite torture to make love to her like this, yet it felt like heaven. She locked her legs around his waist as she pulled his head down to hers.

  “I never tire of kissing you,” she breathed. Love and honesty glowed in her eyes, and it humbled him to his core. He shivered above her as he withdrew and sank back into her welcoming heat.

  “In all my life,” he whispered, “there has never been anyone like you, nor will there be again.” Then he kissed her, deep, slow, his tongue playing an ancient game with hers.

  The turbulence that had ruled his life for the last seven years had suddenly stilled into this most perfect moment of calm. Yet he was full of energy, full of joy, full of love, so strong his heart felt fit to burst. Their gentle rhythm quickened over time as their frantic need to taste each other, to share the pleasure of their love, grew stronger.

  He delighted in drawing small gasps of excitement from Harriet as he claimed her. Redmond’s own breath shortened as he came close to the edge. He slid a hand between their bodies, finding her bud of arousal and circling his finger over it until she arched beneath him and her inner walls clamped down around his shaft.

  Then he was lost, his heart and soul pouring out of him and into her, and coming back again. A long moment later, he covered their bodies with the coverlet before pulling her to his side. He kissed her forehead and held on to her, closing his eyes.

  If love was a heavy tome in his library, every page would have Harriet’s face sketched upon it and poems about her written in a dozen languages. It would contain life’s most powerful secrets, transcendental and far too enlightened for a soul like his. Yet if that book did exist, he would vow to read every page every night for the rest of his life until he was an old man, watching the sun set a final time. That way, he would never lose the memory of her. Harriet would be with him always.

  Then he would be able to tell the ghosts that breathed within the walls that he had done one good thing with his time upon this earth. He had loved Harriet more than his own life, and he had been loved in return. There was no greater gift than that, and he would lose it forever come the dawn.

  10

  Harriet buried her sorrow deep within her heart as she closed the valise Maisie had packed full of beautiful gowns. Gowns fit for a duchess. They didn’t belong to her, but Redmond had insisted they belonged only to the Duchess of Frostmore.

  He cupped her face and leaned in to whisper, “In my heart, there will be no other. You are my duchess.”

  She hadn’t been able to deny him anything. He stole more kisses, his eyes rimmed with red as he dragged his hands through his hair as if he longed to pull the strands out in frustration.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, not caring that the staff were watching her. They had all come to say their goodbyes.

  “Thank you for giving me a place to belong. A home.” The words burned her throat, and she could barely speak. “Thank you for letting me love you.” Whatever fate held for her now, she had been given the most precious gift a person could ever have. The gift of his love.

  He wiped at her dry cheeks as she managed a bright smile. “No tears?”

  “One cannot cry when one realizes one has been blessed beyond all measure.” She stepped away from him, the action cutting her heart, but she dared not let him see how much. Instead, she knelt by his side to pet Devil, who watched in silence. As always, the dog seemed to sense her moods, and his brown eyes were heavy with reciprocal pain. She threw her arms around the dog’s neck and hugged him tight, then stood and looked at Redmond again.

  “You won’t see me to Dover?” she asked again, needing as much time as she could with him before saying goodbye.

  He shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “If I went, there is no way I would be able to stand by and let you board a ship.”

  She understood, even though it hurt. Better to make a clean break of it here where it still felt less real.

  “Write to me once you’re safe.” His quiet request startled her. It would pain them both, but she would do as he asked.

  “And you?” she asked. “You’ll not go back into hiding? You promise to do as I asked?”

  He nodded. That morning, as they had lain in bed, watching the pale sunlight stretch across the bedchamber, she’d made him vow not to hide from life any longer.

  She touched his cheek one last time with a gloved hand, and he caught her wrist, holding it against his face for a long moment, their eyes locked.

  Then he whispered hoarsely, “Go now… or I will lose the courage to let you go.”

  She turned and rushed out the door and hastened down the steps into the waiting coach. If she looked back, she knew it would break her soul, not just her heart. Redmond’s driver helped her inside, and she leaned back against the seat cushions and drew in a shuddering breath as the coach began to roll away.

  It was early evening as they reached the port, and she tried to keep herself busy by thinking about what she would do once she reached Calais.

  “We’re here, miss.” The driver offered her his hand as she stepped down. The Port of Dover was quiet; only half a dozen vessels were docked. Their masts looked like an ancient forest, dead and quiet. Somewhere a bell clanged, and a man called out the change of an evening watch aboard one of the vessels.

  “I’ll go and see which boat you can book passage on,” the driver said, and he headed into the nearest shipping office.

  Harriet waited, her cloak hood pulled up against the chill. She watched the men on the ships in the distance as they saw to their duties.

  Suddenly someone grabbed her shoulder, and something hard dug into her back.

  “Not one scream, dear daughter,” George hissed from behind her. “Not one, or I’ll sink this blade into you.”

  Fear enveloped her as she closed her lips and nodded.

  “Good. Move backward with me.” He pulled her along until she was almost falling, then she was spun around to face his coach waiting in the shadows. George shoved her hard, and she stumbled inside. She tried to rush through to the other door to escape, but the two ghoulish men from his home were there, and they grabbed her, one pinning her arms to her sides and the other smothering her mouth with his hand.

  “Bind her wrists and gag her,” George snapped.

  Harriet struggled, clawing and kicking, till George’s knifepoint pricked her chest, cutting through the rose-colored gown she wore. She stilled, and the men on either side of her bound her hands. One balled up a bit of cloth and forced it between her lips.

  Unable to resist, she cast her gaze out the window of the coach, hoping Redmond’s driver might see her. But her last hope failed her, and she sank defeated back against the seat.

  “Do you have any idea the trouble you’ve caused me, little Harriet? Faversham has been flapping with gossiping tongues about where you’ve run off to. Your little adventure has brought shame upon my name and my home. You’ll pay dearly for it, and Lord Frostmore won’t be able to hide you this time.”

  Her eyes widened at Redmond’s name, and it didn’t escape his notice.

  “Oh, I knew you were there. It was only the only place close enough, and it was too cold for you to be in the woods for long. It’s quite clear that you’re mad. Why else would a young woman run to a notorious wife murderer for help? Luckily for you, we have a doctor waiting at Thursley to declare you disturbed, and I have a local magistrate preparing to sign papers to the effect as we speak. Then I shall have a guardianship over you for the rest of your life. How long that is depends on whether or not you please me.”

  Harriet stare
d at him. Horror filled her until she felt nothing else. This man was a true devil, hidden behind a mask of caring and decency. She had hoped he would forget her in time, but his obsession ran too deep.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped. “I rescued you from a murderer.”

  Of course he would paint himself the hero, rescuing her from the Devil of Dover, but he was the only devil in this tale.

  “If you remain sensible, you may have the gag removed.” He nodded to one man, who pulled the cloth from her mouth. They must be too far from Dover now for him to worry about her screaming. “We won’t make it back to Faversham tonight. I have a room secured at an inn nearby. We shall sleep and proceed to Thursley tomorrow.”

  “One room?” Harriet asked, her voice cold, her body still numb.

  George smirked. “Of course. I can’t very well leave you alone in your own room. Not in your condition. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  She swallowed down a wave of nausea and tried to clear her thoughts. She would have to be smart, play as though he’d defeated her. Once his guard was down, she would fight to the death to win her freedom again.

  “I can see you plotting and scheming, my dear. Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work.”

  The rest of the journey, George talked about his grand plans, how he would wait a respectable amount of time before marrying her, scandal be damned. She was, after all, only his ward and not his daughter. Harriet allowed herself to escape deep within her mind. She was back in Frostmore, exploring the old house, walking through the snow-covered grounds, running to Redmond and throwing herself in his arms. George could never lay claim to these memories. They were hers alone.

  They reached the inn just after nightfall, and George told the innkeeper that they would take their meal in their room. Harriet sat across from him at the small table, eating reluctantly. She wondered if George would drug her, but she knew he would enjoy her screaming in pain and would likely prefer her to be fully aware of her powerlessness when he took advantage of her. He was obsessed with possessing and controlling her, the sort of man every woman feared, even the bravest ones.

 

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