Beloved

by Stella Cameron

  Max entered without knocking. “I say, Ella, this household has gone quite mad!” He stopped at the sight of Precious.

  Precious regarded Max with avid interest and said, “Mad?”

  “This is Precious Able,” Ella said. “Precious, my brother, Max. Precious is telling me that there are unpleasant rumors abroad about me.”

  “Oh, Ella, I was not.”

  Max’s green eyes studied Precious intently. He strolled closer and stood, looking down at her. “What rumors would those be?”

  “Really, there aren’t—”

  “Come along,” Ella said, pretending jocularity. “Out with it, Precious. You’re among friends.”

  “Your brother obviously has more important matters to discuss than gossip,” Precious said, plopping herself on a rose-colored damask couch and smoothing her skirts. “I shall just sit and wait until you’ve finished your business.”

  Ella didn’t miss the assessment in Max’s gaze. “Not at all, Miss Able. After you, of course.”

  “No, no, you have some urgent news for Ella. Little me can wait.”

  “Not at all,” Max insisted. “We are gasping to know what you know, aren’t we, Ella?”

  “We are,” she agreed.

  Precious turned very pink. “It was silly. I only wanted to let you know that I have absolutely denied all rumors on your behalf.”

  Ella met Max’s eyes. Neither of them spoke.

  “Can you imagine anything as outrageous as suggesting you had ever been in …Well, you couldn’t imagine, could you?”

  “How would we know?” Max said. “Since we don’t know what we’re not supposed to be able to imagine.”

  “Well, I don’t really understand exactly what was meant, but I know it wasn’t nice.”

  “Try to explain,” Ella said.

  “Try,” Max echoed. “Try to understand, or at least repeat what you heard and I will try. Men often understand things that are beyond females.”

  Ella allowed that arrogance to pass.

  Precious fiddled with beads that decorated her bodice. She glanced anxiously at Max, who continued to stand over her. “They talked about you not being any better than you ought to be, Ella. And I told them they were wicked. Wicked and wrong. They said you had once had a very different life and that you … They said you’d lived in an evil house and that you were no longer an innocent.” She finished in a rush and pressed her hands to her cheeks.

  “Really?” Max’s voice was silky.

  Words eluded Ella

  “Who exactly said these things about my sister?”

  Precious puffed up her cheeks. “Ooh, girls. At several routs and things. You know how they do love to gossip. But I stopped them. So you don’t have to worry anymore.”

  “No.” Ella swallowed with difficulty. “Thank you for defending me.”

  Precious beamed. “I should just have come right out with it. Silly me. I could have put your mind at rest sooner.”

  “Thank you,” Ella said again. She wanted to creep away and cry. Shame washed her in hot waves. “I shall be very happy to assist you with your shopping. Why did you say your parents cannot be present?”

  “I didn’t.” Precious rested her chin on her chest—a simple enough feat. “They simply cannot afford to return to London.”

  “Surely Lord Wokingham would assist them.”

  “They have their pride. Papa has told Woky that parish duties make it impossible for them to return to London. I think Woky was glad to accept that excuse. He’s quite possessive, you know.”

  “I’m sure,” Ella said. “And I’ve kept you from him for too long. Allow me to ring for your carriage.”

  “I’ll go down soon enough,” Precious said, making much of opening her fan. “You two just talk and then you and I can make plans for our next meeting, Ella.”

  “But—”

  “No, I insist.” Precious’s round eyes moved rapidly between Ella and Max. “Tell your sister what you came to say, Max. I assure you I’m more than discreet.”

  Ella wanted only to be rid of Precious.

  “Precious,” Max said, in a voice Ella had never heard him use before. He picked up one of the girl’s red curls and wound it around his finger. “How the name suits you. You are indeed precious. Precious as a gem is precious. Precious as a clear blue sky is precious. Precious as a perfect flower is precious.”

  Ella remembered to close her mouth.

  “Why, thank you, Max,” Precious said, dimpling. “You didn’t tell me your brother had such a way with words, Ella.”

  “This gift comes upon me rarely,” Max told her, lifting a none-too-clean boot to rest on the seat beside Precious. “Most difficult when it does. Extremely so. A factor of my age, so the doctors say. In fact, Matron—at Eton—Matron said she had never seen quite so extreme a case.”

  Precious drew against the back of the couch. “Case of what?”

  “Oh.” Max made an airy gesture, then leaned down until his nose almost met Precious’s. “They don’t really know.” His voice dropped deep before he actually brought his nose to hers.

  Precious jumped backward.

  “Purple demons,” Max said. “Small ones. Many of them. That was the manifestation on that occasion. They crept down inside her bodice. Matron’s, that is.”

  “Demons?” Precious shrieked and clamped her hands to her bosom.

  “It isn’t demons this time,” Max said, falling to his knees before Precious. “No, this time it is something quite different. You are glorious. Oh, I am in ecstasy. Such exquisite perfection. It is more than I can bear. I am overcome. Ella, Ella, help me before I disgrace myself completely.”

  Ella rose to her feet but couldn’t seem to move.

  “Look at her ankles,” Max said, hauling one of Precious’s substantial feet into the air and revealing several inches of a limb. “I would die just to be allowed to gaze upon such an ankle for the rest of my life. No, no, I must restrain myself. I begin to fear for…I begin to fear.”

  “Max,” Ella said weakly, quaking with silent laughter. “Do sit down, my dear. I’ll call Finch. He’ll help.”

  “The house has gone mad,” Max said. “Finch is gone. Dispatched for a rest at Hanover Square while Crabley takes his place here. Papa’s idea evidently. Crabley has yet to arrive, but do not worry. I’ll be all right soon enough.”

  “What is this sickness?” Precious’s voice was a breathy croak.

  Max leaped to his feet, staggered backward, and fell into a chair. “I am hot, sister, hot. I burn. I burn for her. Perhaps you should leave and allow me to declare myself.” He panted.

  “What is the matter with him?” Precious all but screamed.

  “She is the embodiment of my dreams—of certain dreams I have started having of late,” Max wailed. He convulsed in the chair, flung his feet over one arm, his head and arms over the other, and jerked. “I am yours, Precious. Yours and no other’s. It does not matter that carbuncles grow on your breasts.”

  Precious screamed loudly. She looked down at her breasts.

  “I don’t care that you walk naked for all to see. What man could truly call himself a man if he were not willing to share his good fortune with the world.”

  “Ella, what is wrong with him?” Precious scrambled to her feet and grabbed her reticule.

  “As long as I do not care how tightly you are corseted to squeeze you into your dress, what can it matter, my love?” Max’s hips jolted up until he was a bridge between the arms of the chair. “Do not concern yourself that the others laugh at you. To me you are perfect. Your foolishness enchants me.”

  “Well!” The toe of one of Precious’s slippers caught in a silk rug and she tripped.

  Ella scarcely managed to stop the other girl from falling.

  “Oh,” Precious exclaimed. “How horrid he is. First he compliments me. Then he insults me. He is mad, absolutely mad.”

  “I am on the verge!” Max announced. He raised a face nicely reddened from having h
ung upside down. “On the verge, my precious, Precious. Come here and help me fly.”

  Precious wrenched open the door and rushed from the room. Her footsteps hammered the stairs, and within moments the front door slammed.

  “Max!” Ella went to him and grasped his collar. She hauled him to his feet. “What on earth is the matter with you?”

  “Nothing.” He straightened his hair, pulled down his coat, and cleared his throat. “Not a thing.”

  “You dratted boy. You scared poor Precious to death.”

  “Not quite to death, unfortunately. Don’t you think I should go on the stage?”

  “Undoubtedly. Why did you do such a dreadful thing?”

  He gently disengaged her fingers from his collar. “Because she did a dreadful thing to you. She made you unhappy and I do not like her.”

  “She thought I ought to know about these rumors.”

  “And she enjoyed telling you about them. She is a jealous, spiteful creature.”

  “She’s just lonely, Max. You ought to apologize to her.” He shrugged. “Can’t.”

  “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “Can’t. She’s gone.”

  “Max—”

  “Great-Grandmama has taken to her bed. Finch has been dispatched to Hanover Square. He’s in a horrid huff because he thinks—correctly—that Papa prefers Crabley. I know perfectly well Papa thinks Crabley will take better care of things while he’s gone. Anyway, Crabley’s coming here, and Bigun’s down in the vestibule sitting in some sort of red basket thing. And all the staff’s threatening to leave if he doesn’t.”

  “Bigun?” Ella said. “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither does anyone else—except me. I understand perfectly. Useful, having a dramatic turn of mind. One understands the dramatics of others, even if they don’t seem particularly dramatic.”

  “Oh, good,” Ella said. “Then perhaps you’ll explain them to your poor, not-at-all dramatic sister.”

  “You can be dramatic when you want to, Ella. I have it on good authority that you make a perfectly splendid ghost.”

  “Do not toy with me further. You’ve done quite enough damage for one day.”

  A tap on the doorjamb made Ella jump. She spun to face Devlin North.

  He grinned engagingly. “Max has been up to no good? Is that what I just heard?”

  “Been on the verge,” Max said, all innocence. “You may remember how it is for a fella of my age.”

  Devlin’s arched brows rose. He strolled in. “Not sure I do. On the verge? On the verge of what?”

  “Did you come to talk to me?” Max asked.

  Devlin, more handsome every time Ella saw him, crossed his arms over his massive chest and contrived to look ominous. “Actually, I came to see Ella. In the absence of her father, I thought she might welcome a little manly support—and guidance, perhaps.”

  “Unchaperoned?” Max asked as if horrified.

  “You’re here, aren’t you?” Devlin reminded him.

  “So I am. I shall sit over in that corner and doze. But have a care, Devlin. Even when dozing, I am ever vigilant. I should defend my sister’s honor to the death—should such an eventuality become necessary.”

  “I think you have become demented,” Ella said wearily. “Do sit down and behave yourself, Max. Be quiet. Let me at least think. Good afternoon, Devlin. May I ring for some coffee, perhaps?”

  “Ring,” Max answered as he settled himself in a shadowy corner of Ella’s sitting room. “By all means ring. You might possibly get Bigun out of his basket thingie, but I doubt if he knows how to serve coffee. The rest of the staff is hiding until Crabley arrives. And dear Blanche is mopping Great-Grand-mama’s brow.”

  “Thank you, Max,” Ella said. “Will you have sherry, Devlin?”

  Rather than respond, he regarded her seriously. “You are very special, Ella,” he said quietly. “No wonder Saber is so fond of you.”

  There seemed no suitable reply. Ella fingered her watch and smiled.

  Max cleared his throat, but if Devlin noticed he gave no sign.

  “Forgive me if I embarrass you,” Devlin said. “But a man feels helpless sometimes and then he may say things he might not otherwise say—things that ought to be said anyway. If you take my meaning.”

  Ella didn’t.

  “I would do anything to help you, Ella. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Th-thank you.” The events of this day only grew more confusing.

  “Saber has”—Devlin drew closer and held out his hands — “he has confided all his deepest concerns to me.”

  Ella hesitated, then placed her hands in Devlin’s.

  He enclosed her fingers in a firm, warm grip. “I know about recent events,” he said, raising his brows significantly. “You have been through a great deal.”

  Saber had told Devlin, told him things Ella never wanted another soul to know.

  “Don’t look so stricken,” Devlin said, bending to look into her face, and waiting until she returned his gaze. “Like Saber, I regard certain matters of the past as just that—past. You are not responsible for… Children cannot defend themselves.”

  She bowed her head.

  “Ella, Ella.” Devlin rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “How could you be ashamed with me? I am your friend. I will always be your friend. I—I am very fond of you. Because of that fondness, and my friendship with Saber, it is my duty to tell you not to pursue certain areas of his life. You already know what can happen if you do.”

  Saber had reported everything. “Did Saber tell you to come and speak to me about these things?”

  “He has had need of a close ally, one in whom he could place absolute trust. I have been—and am that for him. I would do anything for Saber.”

  “So would I,” Ella said without thinking. After a moment she repeated, “So would I,” and felt no regret for her declaration.

  “Even if it means letting him go?”

  Her spine tingled. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” Devlin said, shaking his head. “Nothing … and everything. Listen, my dear, you are more mature than your years, so I may speak plainly. I understand your needs at the present. Do you know what I’m saying to you?”

  A glance at Max caught him sitting at the edge of his chair, staring back at her in anticipation. “Why don’t you explain more clearly?” she said to Devlin.

  “You have need of a protector,” Devlin told her. “I would never wish this to sound so … so calculated. I assure you that although there is an element of calculation, there is far more willing… What I am trying to say brings me pleasure, Ella. I do not regard it as an onerous duty.”

  Ella grew warm—and angry. “Saber should not have confided my secrets to you. To you or to anyone else. I’m mortified that he’s done so, and shall tell him as much.”

  “I think you fail to hear what I’m really telling you—asking you,” Devlin said. He brought one of Ella’s hands to his lips. “Never be mortified that I know your needs, my dear. And please do not be cross with Saber. He has certain problems that are beyond his control.”

  “You confuse me,” Ella said. “Thank you for coming, Devlin, but I believe I shall have to excuse myself. I find I’m very tired.”

  “Of course,” he said, smiling broadly. “But not before I make sure you do understand me. I said I would do anything for Saber, and for you. And I will. With pleasure. You need a champion—someone to make certain you live the life you deserve. Saber wants that for you, Ella. He cannot help it if…”

  With heat throbbing in her face, Ella waited for Devlin to finish.

  “I must help my friends and will do so gladly.”

  “Gad,” Max muttered.

  Devlin frowned at him. “We shall do well enough together, Ella. It’s time I settled down. Our match would answer your dilemma, bring me satisfaction, and give Saber peace of mind. What could be more fitting?”

  Ella stared at him.

  “So? Wh
at do you say? I understand Struan’s on his way to Scotland. With your agreement, I’ll send a messenger to present my offer for your hand.”

  “Gad!” Max slapped his knees. “If that don’t beat all.” He got up and went to open the door. “If that don’t beat all. Bloody household’s gone mad. Didn’t I tell you that, Ellie? Now the whole world’s gone mad with it.”

  “That’s enough from you, young Max,” Devlin said, but he smiled affably enough. “Overwhelmed the pair of you, have I?”

  Devlin didn’t see the next arrival on the threshold of Ella’s sitting room.

  “This has been so nice of you, Devlin,” Ella said, speaking rapidly. “Thank you for coming.”

  Saber braced himself against the door frame. “No need to try to help the sly devil out,” he said, his green eyes narrowing. “Overwhelmed the pair of you, have I? You haven’t overwhelmed me, friend.”

  Devlin swung around.

  “I ought to kill you for this,” Saber said, surging forward. “Get out of the way, Ella. I’m going to make Devlin regret this piece of business.”

  Max fell back.

  Ella tried to step between Devlin and Saber, but Devlin pushed her behind him and said, “You’re posturing, Avenall. We both know you—”

  “We both know I’ll defend what’s mine, North. Ella is mine. Mine! Do you hear me?”

  Her legs threatened to buckle. Horror vied with joy.

  “You know you can’t have her,” Devlin shouted. “For God’s sake man, I’m only trying to put your mind at rest. At least you won’t have to worry that she’s in good hands.”

  “Damn you!” Saber launched himself at Devlin. “Ella is to be my wife. The only hands she’ll be in are mine.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “T he devil take you, Avenall,” Devlin said through his teeth. With both fists raised, he came at Saber. “Got your trusted dagger somewhere about you, have you? Ready for the sight of more blood at last, are you?”

  Saber had never thought to hear his best friend speak aloud of secrets they’d shared in private. “I do not need any dagger to squeeze out your life, traitor.”

  “Stop it! Both of you!” Ella rushed at Saber. She collided with him. “Stop it at once. I cannot bear it.”