by Darcy Burke
"Yes, thank you." She allowed him to lead her to the table and help her take a seat. Once the innkeeper's wife had finished setting out the dishes, she left, closing the door. Silence filled the room again. For several minutes, they sat enjoying the exceptional meal, not needing to talk. Secretly, Ella was thankful for at least this change in her plans. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. It also gave her a reason not to look at her companion.
She dared a glimpse only to find him sitting back in his chair, elbows resting on the arms with hands clasped on his stomach.
"Is something wrong with your meal, my Lord?"
"Well, now that you asked, the conversation is a trifle dull. I was hoping for more in the way of entertainment."
She couldn't help a slight curve of her lip as she smartly replied, "Well, I am sure if you asked the innkeeper, he would be able to lead you in a more apt direction for entertainment. I am certain you could find a gentleman's club with cards to your liking." She knew the barb would sting, or more than that, hoped that it would. She wanted him to know she knew the kind of man he was.
"I have not played for four years. I was taught how unsavory and all consuming such a habit could be if one wasn't careful. As I remember, you are more than able to entertain me in any way I may wish, which dulls the allure of the tables any day." The devil danced across his face, while hers burned with the heat of scarlet flames. She had hoped to avoid an outright discussion of her one indiscretion. He was no gentleman to throw it in her face. Her temper rose higher than the blush, but the admission of the fact he no longer gambled warmed her heart. Oh, Lord help her.
"I would be grateful if you would leave that particular topic off our list of conversations, please," she said tartly, but wouldn't look at him.
"As you wish. I didn't intend to unnerve you. I apologize."
His words shocked her, not so much that he apologized, but that they sounded sincere. She sat moving her mutton around the plate with her fork without speaking.
"Why did you leave?"
"Four years ago or Sunday?" she asked, hoping it was the latter.
"Both, but let us start with this little venture. Why the quick exit? Are you that scared to talk with me?"
Now, he was trying to goad her into a temper. "I am not scared to talk with you. I forgot I had planned my trip is all. It's not every day your husband, who doesn't exist, appears in your store wanting to meet his daughter. I have told so many that you were an officer and died in the war that I almost began to believe it as well." Her honesty surprised them both.
Devon chuckled, but he noted a hint of what he would call sadness in her voice. "Well, I think I understand that. It is almost as disquieting as finding out a woman you buried four years ago is alive and wandering the Scottish hills with a daughter. I am thinking we are even," he said with a more casual air than he felt. Since she brought up four years ago, he took the chance to find out whom he buried. "Perhaps you can clear something up for me."
"I would be happy to if I am able." She looked dubious in her belief of being able to do as he requested.
"When you left," Devon took a moment to steel his emotions. It was imperative he not give away too much, "I knew you considered our agreement fulfilled, but then when two coffins appeared on my door step..." Emotion choked his throat.
"I am truly sorry for that. I had no idea they would bother to bring the bodies back to you. I never knew," she said with genuine compassion.
"Who did I bury?"
"A passenger we were giving a ride to. We were three days into the trip and I became ill. I couldn't keep much food down, and the motion of the carriage made it worse." She retold the story with a look as if she were reliving it. "Father was very put out about the whole ordeal. We had stopped on the road so that I could be sick, but father had complained the previous time that he did not care to witness such and that I needed to take myself away from the carriage, so I went into the woods out of sight and hearing. As I was retching, I heard the horses and the first gun shot. I should have attempted to stop them, but I was so very frightened."
"Had you been that foolish, I would have buried three coffins." A hard, raw edge in his voice surprised him. He cleared his throat to be rid of it.
"I know. I think I also suspected at that point that I was with child, even though I was trying to deny it. I crouched in the thick brush and became as small as I could. They killed Father and the young woman almost immediately, then spent the better part of an hour going through our belongings." She was speaking at almost a whisper. Devon had to lean forward to catch every word. "Once they left, I remained in the bushes until dark and then ran through the woods until I came to a farm house. I made up a story about being the widow of an officer who was killed. I said I was just trying to get to my family up north so the gentleman took me, but once I was there, I discovered that my great aunt had passed and there were no other relatives in the area. That is when the baker and his wife took me in."
"So, the braggarts didn't find you? You were able to escape with, if no money and belongings, at least your life," Devon said more to himself to come to grips with the truth of it all.
"Oh, I didn't lose my money. Before the trip I had sewn pockets inside my traveling dress to hide the funds from Father, so I had the money with me. All they stole was some of my mother's jewels, and what my father had of value."
"I thought the worst. I assumed when I saw your father in the first coffin..." He had to stop talking to keep the memories at bay. If he kept going, she would see that which he could not allow her to see. He knew better than to show such emotion to a woman, because they would use it against you, just as his mother had done to his father.
"Again, I am sorry if I inconvenienced you by--"
"Inconvenienced me? Is that what you think I went through? An inconvenience?" Devon interrupted her mid-sentence. He must have reacted with more emotion than he meant, because she sat back with a look of unease. "Look, Ella," Devon went on, taking a hefty drink from the balloon glass in his hand. "I only want to talk. You keep looking at me as if I am a rabid dog about to attack."
"You'll excuse me if I am cautious. If you recall, I have made bargains with you in the past."
Devon nodded and raised his glass in a mock toast. "As well you have, Madame."
"What is it you want of me? What do I have to do to expedite your return to London?" She had changed the subject and he allowed it. Her history wasn't going to advance his purpose right now.
Devon sat and tried not to wince as her words hit him. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her. Fall desperately in love with me and give me your soul. He didn't deserve her love, he knew. It would be too much to ask for, and before he could consider wooing his damnable wife, he had to protect her from an unknown evil. That only made him feel a fraction less contrite for spiking her wine with laudanum. Never had he felt it necessary to drug a woman to get what he wanted, but knowing his wife as he did, this would move things along. He got the feeling time was of the essence in this matter.
Still, it seemed a cowardly, not heroic deed.
Her change of dress usurped his chance to nick the note from the pocket in her gown. He had to get into that room, but in her current state of pique, there was no way he would be able to persuade his way into her bed and by default, her room. To make matters more dire, she wasn't drinking her wine. It seemed she wanted to keep her wits about her. Devon smiled to himself. She was a force to reckon with.
Now, his challenge began unnerving her enough to persuade her to take a long calming drink of wine. It came to him like a lightning bolt. So swift was the thought, he almost caught himself grinning like a child with a new toy.
Clearing his throat, he sat up a bit straighter, reaching to pluck a grape from the fruits left on the platter. After enjoying the cool tart fruit for only a moment, he continued.
"I propose another deal. A wager really, not dissimilar to the way you introduced yourself to me. Are you still a gambling woman?"
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He congratulated himself, for the instant the words slipped from his lips, her color piqued and her eyes widened. It only took her a moment however to compose herself into the proper widow she had convinced herself she was. Before he could stop himself, visions slipped into his memory of a hot summer night, the smell of honeysuckle and her soft skin gliding all around him. It was a memory he had relived many nights, the first and only time they made love. He would have that passionate, wholly feminine woman in his arms again.
Remembering where he was, he shifted in his seat. Now was not the time to let desire overshadow his objective. Devon could see her studying the wine, debating if it would help. Once she consumed the drug, his desire would be cooled. He would not take her to his bed unless there were no questions about her true desire as well.
Before she could calm her nerves, he continued, "My deal, love, is simply this. You agree to let me spend time with Maddie and get to know her," putting up a staying hand when Ella would have argued, "I am not finished, hear me out."
She made a very unladylike snort, but waved him on with her hand and sat back with her arms crossed.
"Thank you, I will agree not to mention I am her father. I would like to add that I do legally have every right to see my daughter. Also, while I am becoming acquainted with Lady Maddie, I would require the right to spend time away from Maddie, with you."
One soft, beautiful brow rose to a perfect arc, but Ella sat silently, waiting for the rest.
"While I am playing pretty to you ladies, I will endeavor to persuade you that I am a man cut of a different cloth than your father. If, after my stay, you agree I am as I say, I would ask that you move closer to London, as I am want to see my child as she grows."
"That's it? You want to get to know Maddie and if you can convince me that you are a suitable parent, I will move closer to London? What if I decide you are not what I would expect a perfect parent to be?"
Devon had to smile. She was already scheming a way out, but to his relief, as she attempted to act in control, she drew the wine glass to her lips and took a long sip.
"Well, that is the part concerning Maddie. There are two parts to this deal." He saw her grow stiff, wary, and just a little confused, as the bitter taste of the drug hit her tongue. "You will allow me complete access to you."
"What does complete access–? Oh!" When she realized he was demanding the right to warm her bed, she turned blaze red. That struck him as telling, since any widow he had ever engaged with was beyond the blush when the conversation turned to talk of the bedchamber. True, the only widows he had contact with were those of the Demimonde who Clive was acquainted. Still, he felt it a very good sign.
"Our original agreement was only one night, and that was your stipulation, not mine. I gave you that. This wager is nothing like the one we struck four years ago. I simply proposed a logical solution to our similar dilemmas. You had to up the ante," she argued, starting to look a bit confused. "I only wanted to get married so I could access my dowry to pay you my father's gambling debt and have enough to flee to Scotland. We would not be sitting here had we gone with my plan without alteration," she pointed out. "I would have fled and faked my death, end of story."
"You did follow through with your part of the bargain, complete with coffins, which I was not expecting. You, however, were the one to act. You came into my bedchamber in the dead of the night taking advantage of the fact I was only partially awake. You can't expect me to count that." He was holding onto the hope she was less experienced than she was letting on. He gave her a hard, grave look across the table, trying not to spoil the look with a smile.
"I, well– I thought that would suffice, yes. You mean to tell me that we were able to create a child, but you don't want me to count that as an intimate coupling?"
Perhaps, he hadn't put enough laudanum in her wine. "Well, yes, it was as you say, but for my part, I was not able to enjoy it as I would have liked. I propose we have another go. It couldn't have been that undesirable, could it? If it was, I feel I cheated you. You deserve my best efforts, and by waking me as you did, well, I can hardly say if I was able to achieve that for you." Devon leaned forward capturing Ella in his heated stare.
The fire popped, breaking the awkward silence. Ella jumped at the sound and realized the room had begun to spin. Was he suggesting what they shared was not adequate with his usual ability? She must have misunderstood what he was saying. By the gods, if he could set her afire as he did that one night without trying, she would surely die if she allowed him to give his best go. "I, sir, think you did a fine job on your first endeavor."
It would be kind of him to stop jumping around so. He was making her dizzy from his movements. His voice washed over her like a warm blanket. What was he saying? Next thing she knew, his hands were rubbing up and down her bare arms. Flames rose inside her. It was as if her senses were on alert. His breath was at her nape now, and he smelled of fruit and wine, and something that was Devon. She wanted to go back and ask him why he would want to spend time with Maddie. She couldn't inherit. She wasn't a son. What could he possibly— the thread of her thoughts danced just out of reach. Why was she so confused?
"I know I can do better, sweeting, I just needs try. Do we have a deal?"
After a breathless moment, Ella heard herself answer, "Yes." She'd done it again. She had given herself to the devil. Nevertheless, as her mind shifted from one thought to another, she wanted to be with him; wanted to feel his hands and mouth on her. Hadn't she dreamt it night after lonely night? She felt herself cheer at the idea. Having her Devon to herself at least one more time. Into her thoughts, his husky voice swelled, mixing with her scandalous images. Somewhere in her mind, she heard herself say no, but it was so faint and she couldn't remember why she would want to refuse him, the man she could not refuse anything.
Oh, she shouldn't say that. He shouldn't know that, should he?
"Let's get you upstairs, shall we love?"
"Yes." She couldn't believe she was going to go through with this.
A sturdy arm wrapped around her waist, guiding her out the door and behind the bar as to avoid the crowd. The taproom was full. That much she could tell, but the noise and colors seemed to swell like the waves at sea. Before she knew it, she was at her door, propped up by Devon who juggled her in his arms while opening it.
"While I get things ready, why don't you rest on the bed? You seem to have had a tiring day."
As he placed her on the bed, careful to put a soft pillow under her head, her last thought was that it was nice to be taken care of by the ones she loved. Then the darkness and warmth took over.
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Devon managed to get the snug boots off her small feet, and then he turned Ella over in order to have better access to the buttons. He pulled the dress over her head, balancing a dozing Ella with his free arm. Then came the stays and he dropped the bundle to the floor. Once finished, he sat in the chair he had occupied the night before and watched, as his laudanum drunk wife lay silent and vulnerable on the bed. She had actually agreed to sleep with him again. His desire rose just thinking about wrapping those lithe legs around him again. He would have her, but not tonight. She would need to be awake and an equal partner. He rose from the chair and made his way to the reticule on the small dressing table to find out what danger he had to deal with before he could begin to seduce his wife.
Inside, he was surprised to find a small lady's pistol. It was of good quality with engravings of flowers and vines around the barrel. He would have to remember she had a weapon before he tried to woo her too much. Sliding the pistol back, his hand brushed against what he was looking for. A letter.
Removing the paper, he noted the quality was very poor, not the paper that anyone of importance would use. The penmanship was poor at best, but good enough to make out.
"Ye know what we want. We know what ye are. A bastard in lady's clothes. If ye knows what's good ye, wait fer another note to pay double the sum ye jus did. It costs p
ounds to keep us quiet and ye and yer bairn safe. Meet at the ruins in Finees in a sennight. You'd do weel to remember the child always pays for the sins of the parents."
Devon cursed at the cryptic note. What was it with Scots? Couldn't they just say what they meant? Someone was blackmailing her, but why? Did they know who she really was? Was his being there putting her in danger? His instincts said no. If they knew about him, they might have tried to contact him and gain even more funds. No, there was something else here, but the question was, did Ella know? Her note mentioned sins of the parents. Was this about her father? Did he owe money to men in Scotland? Devon didn't doubt it, but that didn't feel right either, and if this was about her parents, Ella might not know anything. Just then, she moaned and tried to roll in the bed.
While she was drugged, he could ask her questions and she would have no way of knowing what went on. He used to go to one of his father's mistresses when she was laudanum drunk and ask her all sorts of questions. If she had remembered, he would have been lashed for it. He was sure he could find out something.
Reaching the bed, he pulled the chair closer and turned it so he could straddle the seat, making a small barrier of the chair back between them, and brushed an errant wisp of hair from her face. Close to her ear, he whispered, "Darling? Darling, can you hear me?"
"Mmm, you sound far away," she replied groggily furrowing her brow in confusion.
"No, sweeting, I'm here with you." To prove his point, he took her hand in his and rolled his thumb over her knuckles in a gentle rhythm. She relaxed her scowl and sighed. "Darling, I am going to ask you some questions. You need to answer me."
"Yes, just don't stop rubbing my hand. Feels good."
Devon smiled knowing it was a good thing on many levels that she would not remember this night. "Who is blackmailing you, love?"
Again, she frowned and turned her head back and forth. "Don't know."