The Devilish Lord Will: Mackenzies, Book 10

by Ashley Jennifer

  In a quarter of an hour, Will, Josette, and Captain Ellis were assembled to roam the gardens. A lad of about eighteen or so summers, with black skin and in footman’s attire, led the way, pointing out features as they went. His tone was weary, as though he’d given this tour once too often and was thoroughly tired of it.

  “Roses cover the south terrace along with blooms from every part of the empire,” the young man said in a flat voice. “The first fountain is Apollo and his chariot, which is the same as the one at Versailles.”

  The entire garden, like the house, reflected Versailles, Josette saw as she strolled at Will’s side. She was glad Sir Harmon had suggested wraps—her gown hardly cut the chill of the mists, but its matching cloak helped.

  The fountains marched along in perfect order to the end of the garden, although none were turned on—no spray filled the air.

  Large yew hedges had been planted at the end of the fountain walk, creating a series of narrow paths that hid more fountains a stroller could stumble upon—often quite literally. One fountain was concealed in the bricks on the path itself, another beneath a hole in a garden bench. Josette imagined Sir Harmon gleefully starting up the fountains as the unwary walker stepped on the holes or sank down to the bench for a rest.

  The fountains also grew more naughty the farther they were from the house. One depicted a maiden standing behind another, her hands on her friend’s breasts, spouts for the water coming from the first maiden’s nipples. Will stopped to ogle this, keeping in character, declaring it the best in the garden. Josette fanned herself as though discomfited. Captain Ellis only glanced at it coldly.

  They reached a fountain where three stone little boys had their bare backsides facing the bowl, no mystery where the water would sprout from.

  Will halted in delight. “Oh, I want to see this one run. Make it go.” He burst into hysterical laughter. “Make it go—I declare I did not say that on purpose.”

  The footman barely restrained his disgust. He gave Will a bland bow and jogged back down the paths toward the shed that contained the mechanisms, the ribbon tying back his wig fluttering.

  “Now then, Ellis,” Will said as soon as the lad was out of earshot. He maintained his mannerisms, in case any from the house saw them, but resumed his own voice. “Will ye betray me to Sir Harmon or whatever generals might be lurking in the heather? Or will I have to confess to Lady Mary that I’ve killed ye? She will be most put out with me if I murder you, I think.”

  Chapter 10

  Will assumed a nonchalant stance while waiting for Captain Ellis to reply, but he was very aware of the comforting weight of the dagger he’d slid into his pocket.

  “I haven’t quite made up my mind.” Captain Ellis looked Will up and down. “Or decided what you are supposed to be.”

  “A fatuous beau.” Will made a bow, extending his leg, while at the same time carefully watching Ellis’s hands. “Mal would also be annoyed with me if I killed you. He is fond of you.”

  Ellis’s dark brows lifted. “Is he?”

  “You let him run away with Mary instead of capturing him and dragging him off to be executed,” Will said. “Gave him a soft spot for you.”

  “They were married,” Ellis said stiffly. “By a vicar, whether I liked it or not. I had no grounds for standing in their way.”

  “Ah, but Mal had been declared dead, so Mary was officially a widow.”

  Ellis took a step toward Will. He had not changed much in the year since Will had seen him—his hair was deep brown without a thread of gray, his dark blue eyes hard as steel, his face set in quiet determination.

  Captain Ellis brooked no fools, and he’d proved himself intelligent, well mannered, and fair-minded. Though he’d stayed at Kilmorgan as the Mackenzies’ prisoner, Will’s brothers and father had begun to consider him a friend.

  “Is Lady Mary happy?” he asked. “If she is not, then I will find Malcolm and cut out his heart.”

  Will did not doubt it. Ellis would have to go through Will, Alec, and their father to get to Mal, but he was the sort who would die trying.

  “She is,” Will answered. “I give you my word on that. She and Mal are madly in love, and faring well in a comfortable house in Paris. She bore him a bairn not long ago. They call him Angus.”

  Captain Ellis flinched and looked away. “After your brother,” he said. Angus Mackenzie, Alec’s twin, had been killed in a skirmish in Scotland during the Uprising.

  “Aye.” Will nodded. “Angus was the best of us. The mite so far is more like Mal, unfortunately. Never ceases talking, even if he can only make unintelligible noises at this point.”

  Ellis smiled tightly, a man hiding his pain. “And you, madam?” He turned to Josette. “Are you well? Do not be afraid to tell me if not—I will let no harm come to you.”

  “He speaks true,” Will said to Josette. “If you’d like Ellis to protect you from me, love, he will. To the death, I imagine.”

  “Just so.” Captain Ellis gave Josette a bow.

  Josette closed her fingers around Will’s arm, her warmth a bright spot in the chill. “You are very kind, Captain, but Will and I are old friends.”

  Will shot him a grin. “Meaning she knows how to manage me.”

  “I would not quite say that,” Josette returned. “But I am at his side for a reason and by my choice.”

  “I would love to know those reasons.” Captain Ellis regarded Will’s frippery with blatant disapprobation. “Something underhanded, I assume.”

  “Or I might be entertaining myself,” Will answered. “I’m considered a bit mad, you know.”

  “Cunning, more like,” Ellis said. “Will you give me your word that you intend no harm to this lady? Or to the persons here?”

  “No harm at all. If a man comes at me with a knife or pistol, I will of course take the liberty of defending myself, but I have not come to instigate violence or take my vengeance. Well, not in blood, anyway.”

  Will had already learned much about the other guests—none of the gentlemen had had the courage to be part of Cumberland’s army. They were feeble sprigs of the squirearchy who’d made money on the backs of others and hid here from creditors, bookmakers, and respectable society. One of the gentlemen had been socially ruined by refusing to pay debts of honor and then nearly killing a duke’s son in a duel. The son had lived, the gentleman boasted, thus sparing him from a charge of murder.

  “I am equally curious as to why you are here, Captain,” Will went on. “I can’t imagine you befriending these people.”

  Ellis made a small shrug. “I have a connection through my mother to Sir Harmon’s sister’s husband. I was asked to make use of that connection and spend some time at Sir Harmon’s home.”

  Meaning Captain Ellis had been sent to find out what Sir Harmon was up to out here in the wilderness. There might be a good reason why Sir Harmon was no longer in the Cabinet.

  “I see,” Will said. “If I can be of any assistance …”

  “I will inform you,” Ellis said firmly.

  “Meaning I should stay out of your way? I, on the other hand, would welcome any help you chose to lend me.”

  Captain Ellis gave him a nod. “If it comes to it.”

  The fountain behind them gurgled profusely. Water abruptly spurted from the marble boys’ naked bums and streamed into the bowl. Staying in character, Will laughed and applauded, and Josette covered her mouth as though giggling. Ellis looked thoroughly repelled.

  “At least I don’t have to pretend to enjoy Sir Harmon’s entertainments,” Ellis said.

  “Ah, but flattery goes a long way, Captain.” Will changed his voice to the fop’s as the servant returned. “Excellent craftsmanship. Please show me more, lad.”

  The footman barely hid his irritation as he turned and led Will and Josette around the next bend in the hedges. Captain Ellis, Will noted, quietly retreated.

  * * *

  The house party commenced with tiresome predictability, at least to Josette. No one w
as much for tramping or riding that evening, as they were terrified that savage Scotsmen would creep up on them and attack them.

  Therefore, they remained stolidly indoors. The guests played cards for ruinous stakes as the hours wore on, gossiping madly—Will joined in without hesitation. No one bothered with the library full of books, and Lady Bentley teased Josette when she asked to choose one to read.

  The guests sat up far into the night, the men drinking brandy, the women wine or sherry. One lady snuck in nips of gin from a flask. She offered the flask to Josette, who pretended to sip, but Josette abhorred the stuff. She’d seen firsthand how gin rotted people from the inside out.

  Captain Ellis seldom spoke. He played cards without much animation, and the large stakes did not seem to bother him—mostly because he won. The ladies and gentlemen were quite bad at games, Josette noted, probably why they’d run into trouble with creditors.

  Around midnight, the company decided to play at riddles—they made up a silly rhyme and dared the rest to guess its meaning.

  The answers were always lewd, as in “copulation” or “cock’s crowing.” Captain Ellis vanished during these proceedings, and Josette concluded he’d wisely gone to bed.

  When finally the ladies and gentlemen, yawning and half asleep, decided to go upstairs, it was three in the morning. Scottish nights were short in the summer, and the sun would be up within the hour.

  Will and Josette were the last. As they strolled up the square tower stairs, Lady Bentley popped out onto the second-floor landing and laid her hand on Will’s arm.

  “Do let me speak to you a moment, Sir William.” She beamed Josette a sharp smile. “I promise, Lady Jacobs, I won’t keep him. Not long enough to cause a scandal, anyway.”

  Will gave Josette a helpless Sir William look as Lady Bentley latched her fingers around his forearm and towed him off. Josette had no choice but to continue up on her own, pretending she thought nothing of it.

  Josette warmed herself before the fire in their bedchamber and tried to still her uneasiness. She and Will were playing roles, and if it meant Will had to seduce Lady Bentley, then Josette would have to live with it, no matter how much she disliked it.

  The knot in her chest urged her to run downstairs, discover where Lady Bentley had taken Will, and drag him away. Wouldn’t a jealous and besotted Anna do so? Perhaps, but then she might interrupt whatever interrogation Will had begun.

  It was all Josette could do to remain in their chamber, breathing hard, and try not to speculate what they were doing.

  To her intense relief, Will banged into the room not long later, a white crockery bowl in his hands.

  “I am here, my chicken,” Will said, keeping to his Sir William persona. “Our lady hostess only wanted to give us a gift.”

  Josette peered curiously into the bowl. It held a mound of strawberries, with cream artfully arranged in a scalloped pattern around it.

  “Lovely,” Josette said. “They must have a large patch in the garden.”

  “Yes, isn’t it kind of our hostess?” Will slid off his frock coat and loosened and unwound his cravat. “She noticed how I relished a strawberry.”

  Josette flushed, remembering how he’d curled his tongue around the berry at dinner, and his comparison of strawberries and cream to a lady’s breasts.

  “Yes, very kind of her,” she managed to say.

  “I believe she wants us to enjoy all of these. And the cream.”

  He stuck the tip of his finger into the bowl, swirled up a tiny blob of cream, and licked it away. Josette’s chest went tight.

  Will slid his finger back into the cream, and this time held it out to Josette.

  She eyed the white dollop standing up in a soft peak on his fingertip, her mouth drying. She ought to shake her head, tell him the charade was at an end for now, and go to bed, banishing him to the settee in the dressing room.

  Josette swallowed hard, leaned to him, and laced her tongue around his finger.

  Will’s eyes darkened as she suckled the offered cream. He bent to whisper into her ear, “Peepholes.”

  Josette started, but she covered the move with a little gasp, as though he’d said something risqué. With great effort she kept herself from darting glances around the room, searching for said peepholes.

  She knew that some people installed such things in their houses, perhaps to keep watch on those they did not trust, or for the purpose Will implied Lady Bentley used them for—to spy on those having connubial relations.

  Oh, dear. If Josette and Will simply went to sleep, especially in separate rooms, the illusion of them being a besotted married couple would be at an end. Of course, many married couples of the upper classes did not share a bedchamber, but Lady Bentley had pointedly given them a only one chamber and only one bed.

  They could pretend to have a tiff, but then both might be vulnerable to unwanted attentions from the others. Lady Bentley had already formed a great interest in Will.

  However, Josette had no intention of allowing their hostess, and who knew who else, watch Will seduce her senseless.

  Will’s cheekbones stained red as Josette licked his finger. “We need to give them a show,” he murmured. “Just for a little while.”

  Josette fought to keep the dismay from her face. “No,” she whispered, the syllable nearly silent.

  Will took her hand and kissed each of her fingertips. “They won’t see you,” he said quietly as he began to unbutton his waistcoat. “Only me.”

  Josette didn’t like that any better, but now she felt another emotion—gratitude. He was protecting her.

  Will dropped the silk waistcoat on top of his frock coat and cravat and untied the tape that closed his shirt at the neck.

  “I’ve dismissed the servants, love,” he said as Sir William. “We’ll have to be lady’s maid and valet for each other.” Will caught Josette’s hand and pressed a burning kiss to the inside of her wrist.

  “No servants?” Josette said as Anna. “Well, I suppose we shall have to make do, husband.”

  “I suppose we will, wife.” Will slid his loosened shirt down until it exposed his suntanned shoulders, a pale scar cutting across his collarbone. “Now … I seem to be hungry.”

  Josette drew a breath, reached into the bowl, and plucked out a strawberry.

  Chapter 11

  It was the most decadent thing Josette had ever done, and at the same time, so simple.

  Josette tried to keep her hand from shaking as she dabbed the strawberry into a little cream and held it to Will’s lips.

  He bit down, a trickle of juices caressing the corner of his lips. He licked the trickle away before taking the rest of the berry from her fingers. Someone had thoughtfully trimmed off the hulls, and Will drew the whole thing into his mouth, chewing it slowly. Josette watched his throat move as he swallowed, her fingers going hot.

  “Another, love,” he prompted.

  Josette quickly dug out another strawberry. She continued to feed him from her fingers, dipping some berries in cream, giving a few to him bare. Cream dotted Will’s lips, and strawberry juice stained his chin.

  He never touched her. Will lounged on the chair at the dressing table, the mirror reflecting him as he took the berries from her, licking her fingers in the process. His shirt slid to his waist, baring back, torso, and strong arms.

  He was a beautiful man, skin bronzed by sun and wind. Sir William’s tale of being in the army accounted for his scars, and muscles made tight by carrying rifle and sword. Will truly had carried such things and marched over the Highlands, if not in uniform.

  Josette gave him every strawberry in the bowl, taking a few for herself—they looked too delicious to resist. Fresh and ripe, they burst into bright, sharp flavor in her mouth, softened by the sweet cream.

  Before the bowl was empty, Josette found herself on Will’s lap, forgetting they played a game, forgetting that anyone might watch. They enjoyed the berries together, Will kissing juice from her lips, she tasting cream on hi
s.

  He cradled her with arms trailing the linen shirt, his satin breeches warmed by his hard legs. Josette cuddled against his chest to feed him the last finger-full of cream.

  Will closed his mouth over her fingertip, suckling gently. The heat inside her became incandescent and wove around her heart.

  He licked the underside of her finger, taking his time. “We should to bed, my love. ’Tis already dawn.”

  Gray tinged the slits around the window’s draperies, announcing another long summer day.

  Disappointment stung Josette, and she slid reluctantly from his lap. “I’m not used to the sun rising so quickly.”

  “For the Highlands, there is day in summer, night in winter.”

  Will freed his arms from the strawberry stained shirt and tossed the ruined thing into the corner. In breeches and stockings, he doused the candles.

  Only the dying fire lit their way to the bed. In the deep shadow near the bedcurtains, Will unlaced and unhooked Josette’s clothing, his hands deft and sure. He stripped her down to her chemise, then held the bedcovers so she could slip under them. His body blocked her from the rest of the chamber, and the darkness finished hiding her. An observer—if any watched—would see only a flurry of bedclothes as Josette slid in and covered herself to her chin.

  Will more leisurely removed his stockings and breeches, and then, in nothing but his skin, reached for a nightshirt that had been left to warm near the fire, along with a nightgown for Josette.

  The sight of Will, tall and naked, half hard from their playing in the chair, should have satisfied any watcher. It certainly made Josette fix her gaze to him.

  She’d told him there would be no liaison, that they would be in separate bedchambers. Fate and Lady Bentley had dictated otherwise. Josette’s resolutions were dissolving, crumbling, and she wondered if he’d known they would so quickly.

  Unhurriedly Will pulled on the nightshirt and climbed into the bed, shutting the curtains around it, giving Josette privacy to don the warm nightgown.