The Devil Earl

by Deborah Simmons

  “Perhaps Wolfinger is displeased with the trespassers,” Sebastian said coolly. At his ominous words, Phoebe wailed softly, and even James looked ill at ease.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” James said, a little too briskly. “Lock the door behind me, and you shall be perfectly safe, my love.”

  As if sensing that her husband had reached his limit, Phoebe fell back, biting her lip, and the brothers managed to slip out into the darkness. Soon they were moving through the abbey like shadows, any sound that they made drowned out by the ferocious storm raging outside.

  They found their prey, or at least one of them, in the dining room, loading a sack full of silver, and before Sebastian could move, James had a large knife at the fellow’s neck. Keeping watch at the doorway, Sebastian realized that James had learned more on his sea voyage than he ever had at Oxford.

  Bending the man backward, James pressed the blade against his skin and growled into his ear. “How many are you?”

  “Th-three,” the ruffian croaked, eyes bulging.

  “Really? Are you sure there are no more?” James tightened his hold, pricking his adversary’s throat.

  “P-positive. The chief and D-Darlington and me.”

  “Darlington?” James lifted his head like a wolf to the scent. “What a pleasant surprise. I have longed to meet him again, now that I have the complete story of what he did to my wife!”

  The poor smuggler quivered in James’s grip, and, taking pity on the man, Sebastian intervened. Grabbing a length of drapery cord, he tied up the fellow, thrust a gag into his mouth and shut him in a pantry for the time being.

  When Sebastian looked up, James was already moving away impatiently. His features, caught in a flash of lightning, were fiercer, as if the fight were personal now.

  “Don’t let your anger make you careless,” Sebastian warned. But James was already too far ahead to hear him, slipping from room to room with renewed intensity, and Sebastian had to hurry or fall behind. When they reached the great hall, James hesitated only briefly before throwing himself forward.

  Sebastian, more cautious, remained in the shadowed doorway. In the darkness of the long room, he could see two figures grappling on the floor, illuminated by the slender shaft from a shuttered lantern. Certain of his brother’s eventual victory, Sebastian slid in beside a tall cabinet to watch and wait.

  The forms struggled and rolled around the floor, knocking over a chair and grunting as each tried to subdue the other. Aware that the noise might well bring the third intruder out, Sebastian drew a pistol. Although he was better known for his swordplay, he was not a bad shot, and that skill might be useful tonight.

  “Ahhhh!” A low scream echoed off the abbey’s old walls just as lightning brightened the room, revealing that James had his man by the neck. When the blinding flash ebbed, Sebastian recognized Darlington, although the dandy’s normally suave features were twisted with pain. Sebastian silently sucked in a sharp breath as he noticed something else.

  The great hall had been ravaged.

  More than one chair was littering the floor, and the tables were bereft of anything of value. Although he would need a complete inventory to catalog the missing pieces, Sebastian knew that several items he had refused to sell dated back centuries. Of what remained, a large gilt-edged mirror was shattered and a full-length portrait of the Devil Earl had been slashed.

  Sebastian felt his blood rise and heat. This went beyond the unlawful use of his property for storing petty goods. This was a violation of his home and his heritage. This was personal. As if Wolfinger agreed, thunder roared in reply, rattling the windows with unusual violence, and lightning came fast on its heels, casting its eerie glow upon James, who had Darlington in a death grip.

  “I ought to kill you for what you did to my wife!” James growled, his pirate face implacable while Darlington quailed before him. Then the room went black again, and Sebastian blinked in an effort to adjust his eyes to the change.

  “Put down your weapons and lie on the floor.” A new voice, low and confident, rang out in the stillness. Tensing, Sebastian searched the shadows, his gaze finally picking out a black shape that stepped from under one of the doubl arches at the end of the hall.

  Damn! The bastard was too far away, and too dimly lit, for a clear shot. Not wanting to waste his precious ammunition, Sebastian waited, ready to spring out, should James be endangered.

  One look at his brother told Sebastian he need not worry, for James had regained control of his temper. He held his knife firmly against Darlington’s neck, and his features were cold and controlled as he spoke. “Drop your pistol or I will kill your man here,” James said.

  “Go ahead,” the leader taunted. “His usefulness is over. Then lay your knife on the floor slowly, or I shall put a bullet in you.”

  “No!” Darlington cried. “You need me to take the goods to London!”

  “Ha! I can find another greedy swell easily enough, Darlington,” the villain said. “You have become tiresome. I would shoot you myself, but I can’t spare a bullet.”

  Darlington wailed, and Sebastian sensed that James was going to make a move. Before his brother could do something risky, Sebastian stepped out of the shadows. “It is you who must drop your weapon,” he warned, his tone ominous.

  “I was wondering what happened to you,” James said dryly.

  A deafening roll of thunder seemed to shake the very abbey, and Sebastian ignored his brother to focus all of his enmity on the intruder. “As I told your local rabble, trespassers are not welcome here,” Sebastian intoned, taking advantage of the storm’s fury. “Wolfinger frowns on wanton destruction of its possessions.”

  As if the elements hastened to do his bidding, a brilliant bolt smote a nearby tree, and falling branches scratched against the windows like bony fingers. Although Darlington moaned in fright, the leader was not so easily intimidated. The lingering brightness showed him lifting his gun, and he discharged it in the ensuing darkness. Sebastian fired back, but both shots went wild, and the villain turned to flee.

  Sebastian gave chase, as did James, who tossed Darlington against a wall before following his brother. As they ran, a sudden flash showed their prey disappearing under the eastern arch, rather than the one that led to the kitchens. Apparently, he had become confused by the abbey’s peculiar and sometimes dangerous intricacies.

  Glancing swiftly at his brother, Sebastian caught only a glimpse of white teeth in a grin. Obviously, James was thinking the same thing…They paused only a moment under the curved stone before plunging into the blackness ahead. No lantern showed their way, but lightning abruptly revealed their man, scrambling to unbolt a heavy door. They stopped.

  “Should we tell him?” James asked, his breath coming quickly from the chase.

  “No,” Sebastian answered. And then the opportunity was gone. The creak of the ancient wood swinging open was followed swiftly by a sharp scream as the intruder stepped into nothingness and dropped through the driving rain to the rocks below.

  “He never would have believed us, anyway,” James said, softly.

  Sebastian nodded, more to himself than to his brother. “Only a local would understand the Devil Earl’s sense of humor.”

  “A door that goes nowhere,” James said, moving to stand beside the gaping exit, where the wind lashed water onto the tiled floor. Pushing the heavy wood shut, he secured the bolt. “The old bugger probably sent all his unwanted guests out that way.”

  “No doubt,” mused Sebastian, but his reply was drowned out by the thunder, crashing in a furious crescendo that seemed to shake the very cliffs beneath them. And then, having spent itself, the storm died away, just as quickly as it had arisen, leaving but a few clouds to chase across the slender moon hanging over Wolfinger Abbey.

  Prudence looked up from her late breakfast to see Sebastian and his brother filling the doorway. They had left early to deliver their new prisoners to the magistrate, but, from the grim cast of their features, Prudence deduced that
they were not completely satisfied with the results of their meeting.

  “It is disconcerting, to say the least,” Sebastian told his brother, with a wry glance in Prudence’s direction.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Oh, James, you are back!” Phoebe squealed, rising from the table to rush to her husband’s side.

  Suppressing a smile at the grimace of distaste that darkened Sebastian’s face, Prudence motioned for him to take the seat beside her.

  “Thank God you are not of such an effusive nature,” he whispered to her as he gracefully lowered his elegant frame into the nearest chair.

  Prudence glanced across the room, to where Phoebe and James were clinging and staring soulfully into each other’s eyes, as if they had been parted for years and not just a few hours. “Oh, I don’t know,” Prudence replied, feeling a bit mischievous. “I can be effusive sometimes.”

  Sebastian, who had been unfolding his napkin, halted in the act to eye her boldly. “Yes, well, there are times when your effusiveness is warranted…and appreciated,” he added, giving her a slow, wicked smile that promised untold delights.

  She shivered.

  “Cold, Pru, dear?” he asked softly, leaning forward to spear a piece of ham.

  She laughed, but held back her reply, because Phoebe and James were joining them. “How did your meeting with the magistrate go?” she asked her brother-in-law.

  “Damn it, Prudence, you were right all along!” James grumbled.

  “That is what is so disconcerting,” Sebastian noted, as he added some eggs to his plate.

  James grinned. “Sebastian claims you are always right.”

  Phoebe pouted prettily. “I suppose she is, but that is neither here nor there. What of your errand?”

  “As Prudence suspected, the local free-traders must be well-known to the magistrate, because somehow they managed a miraculous escape from his cellar,” James explained dryly.

  “No!” Phoebe gasped.

  “Yes, every bloody one of them,” James complained. “Which is why we have brought our new prisoners back here with us to await the excisemen.”

  “Oh, no!” Phoebe cried. She looked pale and frightened at the prospect of the two men being harbored close by. “James, I refuse to stay anywhere near that dreadful Mr. Darlington.”

  “Do not fret, love,” James said, laying a comforting hand over hers. “I’ve set a couple of my crew to watch him and the other fellow. There will be no more coincidental escapes, I assure you.”

  “I don’t expect their cohorts to help them, either,” Sebastian said. “Since the leader, an evil fellow from Mullion, is dead and these two aren’t locals, either, they will find the group’s loyalty no longer extends to them. More than likely, the others will be relieved to see these two taken away.”

  “And very rightly so, Sebastian. My guess is that they bullied the locals more often than not,” Prudence said. “And, although James might not agree, I think that the situation has worked out for the best. Those who escaped are simple men who will probably never take up the trade again. And even if they do, you can be sure they will not come near Wolfinger. Its reputation is secure,” she added with a smile.

  “Still, I plan to board up the passage to the abbey from the cave,” Sebastian noted. “I have no desire to have my throat slit in my bed by any more intruders.”

  James frowned, as if considering something. “I could probably recognize some of the smugglers, if I went through the village,” he finally said. “But Prudence is right.” He flashed her a white grin. “I’m done with my revenge. Perhaps I shall simply move my business up here and employ some of them.”

  Sebastian laughed. “If you paid them a good wage, they would have no need for free-trading, and a healthy fear of you might keep them loyal!”

  “Let this be the end of it, then, for I have my shipping business to think about,” James said. “I’ve a mind to sell the small smuggling vessel to raise money to outfit the Willo’-the-wisp. And I am serious about putting the ship in at the village.”

  “Pru, we were thinking about living in the cottage for the time being,” Phoebe said.

  “We feel a bit silly knocking about this big place,” James interjected, although Prudence knew he was glossing over his dislike for Wolfinger. And, of course, they all were aware that Phoebe despised the abbey. She never let them forget it.

  “The cottage would be nice and cozy,” Phoebe said. “That is, if it is all right with you, Pru,” she added. Blushing rosily, she glanced back and forth from Sebastian to Prudence, who felt her own flush rising.

  “That is, you have always loved Wolfinger, and you seem to be perfectly happy here,” Phoebe stammered. Sebastian was glaring at her darkly, which made her even more flustered. Obviously, no one was prepared to mention what was on all their minds: the lack of legal ties between Prudence and the man whose home she shared.

  “I think the cottage would be perfect for you, Phoebe,” Prudence said. “And we can see each other as often as we like.”

  “Yes,” Phoebe agreed, nodding so violently that her golden curls bobbed up and down. “And if you would ever like to come home. . That is, you are always welcome there, naturally.” Her voice trailed off in the face of Prudence’s uncomfortable silence and Sebastian’s increasingly grim manner.

  Luckily, Mrs. Worth came in at that moment, extricating Phoebe from the difficult situation by bustling about them all, making sure they had enough to eat and pouring fresh tea.

  “Well, you are welcome to Wolfinger,” James said. “I have never seen the appeal of this place. It reminds me of an old tomb—cold and drafty and damp.”

  “Oh, Prudence has always claimed it as inspiration for her work,” Phoebe said, beaming at her sister in an obvious attempt to redeem herself.

  “Well, with no more smugglers hiding in the cliffs below and no more robbers sneaking along the hallways, the old abbey should be positively dull. And with Mrs. Worth taking on a new staff, it might be quite normal around here. Boring, even,” James said, winking at Prudence. “Whatever shall you do?”

  Prudence felt her already heightened color deepen further, and she dared not look at Sebastian. She knew full well that the two of them would always be able to create their own excitement.

  “Yes, well, we can always look for Wolfinger’s resident ghosts,” Sebastian said, saving her from a reply. “This is an amazing structure, and it appears that even the remaining Ravenscar doesn’t know all its secrets. We could give it a thorough going-over.”

  Prudence looked up, grateful for his answer, but then she saw the telltale quiver of his lips, a sly curving that was meant only for her eyes, as he added, “I have a feeling we shall find plenty to entertain us.”

  Prudence felt as though she had just drifted off when Sebastian awakened her again, but the high sliver of moon shining through the window told her that it was past midnight.

  “Come on, Pru,” he urged, and she blinked at him. He was beside the bed, wearing boots and breeches and nothing else.

  “What is it? Is someone in the abbey again?” she asked.

  He smiled, a slow, wicked grin that sent shivers through her, and she knew that nothing was amiss. On the contrary, everything was wholly right. No matter how many times they made love or how many nights they spent together, Prudence knew, this man would always have the same effect upon her. Her heart picked up its pace, making her blood hum in her veins, and she felt alert and alive, every part of her throbbing with excitement and anticipation.

  “No, but I want to do something before I board up the passage,” he answered. Prudence asked no further questions; she had no need. Whatever Sebastian had in store would be well worth her attention. He held out a soft robe to her, and she wrapped it around her naked body. It glided against her skin, heightening her senses as she bent to put on her slippers. She really ought to put on a gown, too, she thought, but the way down to the library was already open, and Sebastian was reaching for her hand.

&
nbsp; They moved silently through the corridors, as if one with the old building, and Prudence had the absurd notion that the abbey approved of them, welcoming their steps across its ancient stones. Although Sebastian could find his way easily, he held up a lantern to guide her, and it cast eerie shadows along the walls, great phantoms that followed behind and prowled ahead.

  The excisemen had arrived in the afternoon, taking away the prisoners and hauling the goods from the cavern, but the passage was still open, and in the kitchens they found Mr. Worth clutching a blunderbuss, just as if he were standing guard over the cellars. Unfortunately, he was leaning back in a chair, his mouth hanging open to emit a dull snore, so Prudence suspected that a veritable army could pass without his notice.

  Sebastian lifted the light higher, and they took the stairs down to where the wine was stored, and through the secret room into the cavern itself. It seemed larger and more natural without its stored booty, and the new moon glittering faintly off the water made the cove look like an enchanted seascape.

  When they reached the entrance, Prudence drew in a breath, glad that Sebastian had wanted to share the scene with her one last time. Stars pierced a night sky that dipped down to meet the ocean, while on either side of them, waves crashed against the rocks in a majestic display.

  A summer-warm breeze swept over the water, pulling at her robe, and she reveled in her lack of clothing. A few months ago, she had never known such freedom, such exhilaration, and she owed it all to the man beside her. Turning to Sebastian, she opened her mouth to thank him, but the look on his face stopped her speech.

  Passion, dark and deep, was etched across his features as he watched the wind play with the folds that barely covered her. His gaze lifted to her own, and even in the moonlight, Prudence could see the hunger there, almost frightening in its intensity. She was suddenly reminded of their first meeting, when he had loomed over her, an erotic, threatening presence she had welcomed into her life. She did not falter now, either, for Sebastian had awakened in her a slumbering desire as fierce as his own. It rose to match his, to greet and meld with it and flash its answer in her eyes, and without a word, he swung her up into his arms and waded into the cove.