Demon of Mine (8 page)

“
Have I frightened you,”
Damon’s voice was as soft as the fine kerchief he’d handed to her,
“or only saddened you by dredging up the afternoon’s
events?”

A tremor wracked Elsie’s shoulders.
She pressed the kerchief to her face, hiding it under the guise of
catching her tears, and breathed in the scent that had been placed
upon it. It was musky and spicy – Damon’s scent. The smell of it
put enough fire in her blood to quell her nerves, at least a
little. Emboldened by the cover of darkness and her seemingly
uncrushable desire for him, she spoke the truth. “Both.” Still
holding the kerchief to her face, she continued. Her lips brushed
the soft material as she spoke, and her stomach fluttered. “I was
so afraid you’d be angry if you discovered me. Are you?”

“
No.”

A happiness that was perhaps absurd,
given the situation, welled up in Elsie. Despite the day’s news and
trials, it dawned on her that this moment was lovely in its own
way. If Damon wasn’t angry with her, then she couldn’t bring
herself to be sorry that she’d captured his attention, however it
had happened.

“
But no doubt you’re still
frightened,” he said, his tone not quite resigned.

She lowered the kerchief and shook her
head. “No. Not if you’re not angry with me for eavesdropping. I…”
She hesitated for a moment, then hurried to continue before she
could worry too much over whether she was being too bold. “I don’t
believe you’re a murderer. I believe you are innocent.”

The crescent moon emerged from behind
a cloud and was reflected perfectly in the dark centers of his
eyes. His expression was peculiar, but his face no less handsome
than usual. “Odd,” he said, “that a maid should have such faith in
someone she does not know. Tell me, do you give everyone the
benefit of the doubt, or is your loyalty to my family simply so
great that you cannot bring yourself to consider the possibility of
my guilt?”

Elsie swallowed and looked
him in his moonlit eyes. “Neither.” Of course she felt a
considerable measure of loyalty toward the Remingtons, but not so
much that she would blind herself to danger and place her own neck
on the chopping block. No, she
knew
that he was innocent. Not only had she been moved
by the sincerity – the anguish – in his voice, but she knew he had
indeed been in his own bed at three in the morning, when Lord
Griffith had apparently been discovered dead. She alone knew, and
the fact both fueled her seeming bravery and gnawed at her from the
inside. He wouldn’t need a talking horse if she had the courage to
admit that she’d seen him.

“
You perplex me,” he said
simply.

She was overcome by the sudden feeling
of finding herself backed into a corner. She leaned ever so
slightly backward, and the prick of a thorn against the small of
her back enhanced the sensation. Perhaps she’d said too much. Maybe
she should have rattled off something about her faith in the virtue
of the Remingtons and scuttled off to bed. But no, she didn’t have
the time or the will for such lies – not when her every breath was
precious. She would not lie to Damon. She would treasure this bit
of night always as the time she’d held Damon Remington’s undivided
attention. It would be a sweet memory, untainted by
dishonesty.  “Forgive me,” she said simply. “That was not my
intention.”

A small smile played around the
corners of his mouth, and the sight of it toyed dangerously with
Elsie’s knees. They wobbled slightly. Thankfully, her skirts seemed
to hide the fault from Damon’s eyes. “And yet you continue. Do you
intend to tell me why you are so sure of my innocence? I would very
much like to know why a maidservant trusts my character when even
my own sister doubted me.”

Elsie sucked in a quick breath, and
for a moment, time seemed to stop. Damon held her gaze, favoring
her with a hint of a smile while the stars hung overhead,
statically bright, not twinkling. Even her own heart skipped a
beat. The truth danced on her tongue, dangerously close to escape.
At the idea of divulging her secret she felt almost as brave as
Damon seemed to think she was, and then horribly ill. What would he
think of her – oh God, what would he think? But he wanted an
answer, and the courts would demand the same from him. He spoke as
if there was no one else to say he’d been home when the clock had
struck three. She could tell the truth. Maybe she could even help
his case. “I saw you.” She said it before she could stop herself,
and then there was nothing to do but elaborate. “I saw you that
night, after you arrived home. I know you couldn’t have killed Lord
Griffith if his body was still warm at three, for you were in your
bed then.”

Not a single cricket had the mercy to
interrupt the silence that stretched between them then.

“
I was in your room, behind
the dressing screen,” she said softly. “You’re furious with me. I
understand.”

“
No.” There was an odd note
in his normally silky voice, a hint of discomposure that was at
odds with his reputation and his family name. “I am not angry. I
cannot be – not when I have watched you in secrecy so many
times.”

Elsie’s mouth went dry. “Watched me?”
Her heart surged, sending blood racing through her veins. There had
to be some mistake.

“
Whenever I had the
chance,” he said softly. “Whenever I could, I watched you. Not
during any…intimate times.” Elsie’s cheeks flooded with heat as he
continued. Intimate indeed. “But I’ve always noticed you among the
servants here at the London house, and whenever you caught my eye,
I would watch. While you cleaned, when you strode through the
garden or city streets on your day off...”

She pressed the kerchief to her face,
desperate to conceal what must have been a gaping expression. What
could possibly possess Damon to watch her? She could hardly imagine
a duller sight than a housemaid polishing a candlestick or shopping
for a cheap trinket in the city, ignorant of her observer. “Why?”
she asked simply, fighting the pleasantly dizzying effect of the
soft cloth, heavy with Damon’s scent.

“
Would that I could tell
you the entire story,” he said softly.

“
Can you tell me at least a
little bit?” she asked, emboldened by the shock of his perplexing
confession.

“
Of course. You remember,
surely, the day my mother hired you?”

“
How could I forget?” A
familiar sensation of bone-deep regret washed over her as she
remembered the odor of her parents’ death in the air, the scrape of
the cobblestones against her work-calloused palms.

“
The sight of you stirred
my heart that morning,” he said. “I’ve never forgotten
you.”

Elsie suppressed an incredulous noise.
“Stirred your heart – me, the young wretch sopping on the side of
the street?” She vividly remembered the water running grey from her
ash-stained hair and face, as well as the singed and threadbare
fabric of her pauper’s gown.

“
Yes.” His voice was
velvet-smooth again.

“
You have an unusually kind
heart. Were it not for you, your mother never would have taken me
on. God knows what sort of misery I’d have been consigned to
without your family’s Christian kindness.”

One corner of his mouth turned up in a
wry smile.

“
Is that it then?” she
asked. “My pathetic state made such an impression on you that
you’ve never forgotten?”

“
That’s not it at all. I
know my explanation is lacking, but it’s all I dare divulge.” He
smiled wickedly, and even the mischievous curve of his lips was
somehow regally handsome. “Still, it’s quite a bit more than you’ve
given me. You haven’t said why you were hiding behind the dressing
screen in my bedchamber.” If he was embarrassed, he didn’t show
it.

Finally, a chance to justify her
actions, even if only a little. “I fainted there while dusting.
When I awoke you were already undressing. I couldn’t summon the
courage to come out. I’m sorry.”

“
So you waited until I fell
asleep and then fled to the library and pretended you’d been there
all along?” There was the faintest hint of amusement in his
voice.

“
Yes.” She had to force
herself to continue to meet his gaze.

“
Then you know.”

Elsie’s heart seized as visions of his
bloodied shirt loomed in her mind. Was he going to explain the
stains? “Know what?” she breathed.

“
That I find you anything
but pathetic.”

She exhaled sharply,
sending the edges of the fine kerchief fluttering. Damon’s scent
whirled around her, mixed with her own breath.
Elsie
. She remembered the sound of
her name on his lips as clearly as day. Her stomach flip-flopped
and fluttered with the revelation that there was no other Elsie.
He’d truly been saying
her
name.  “Do you mean it?” Her cheeks flamed as
she asked, but she had to know.

“
Yes.”

Her heart jumped when he reached out
and laid a hand on her arm. This couldn’t be happening, couldn’t
be. It was as if her wild dreams from the night before had bled
into reality and turned everything upside down. Her own name rang
in her ears as she remembered him gasping, breathing hard as he
clutched his cock. It was all too much. None of it made any sense.
“Tell me the rest of the story,” she implored. “Tell me
why…”

He laid his other hand on her arm and
squared her body with his, pulling her so close her breasts nearly
brushed the front of his coat. He fixed her with his dark eyes,
silvered by the moon. “Perhaps it’s only that you’re so
beautiful.”

Yes, her dreams must have somehow
crept into her waking hours.

“
You are,” he said, his
voice suddenly low. “You don’t have the face of a housemaid. A
princess, perhaps – a face that should be framed by finery and
displayed for the admiration of all. But you are here, in my home,
all of your beauty confined to this country house for my enjoyment
only.” He tightened his grip on her arms. “It’s more than I can
bear. I knew during the carriage ride alone with you that I would
not be able to sleep that night until I found release. Perhaps I
should apologize. Perhaps I should stop being so frank. But I can
bring myself to do neither.”

Elsie trembled. He could surely feel
the tremors in her arms, but there was nothing she could do to stop
them. She should be glad she’d managed to remain standing in the
wake of his confession. She felt as if she’d been slammed into by a
savage, cresting wave. Every secret part of her, every little nook
in her heart she’d dared to fill with dreams of Damon, was
rejoicing. The rest of her was too stunned to do anything besides
shake.

“
Have I offended you?” His
breath brushed her forehead softly, snapping her out of her shock
and igniting a spark in the core of her being.

“
No, but you have stunned
me.”

He loosened his hold on her just a
little. Elsie wished he hadn’t – her knees were feeling dangerously
weak, and she was glad of his support. “I apologize,” he said. “The
shock can’t be good for your health.”

“
If the physician’s
suspicions are true, my health is past the point of repair. Say
whatever you wish. Your words are doing my heart good, if nothing
else.”

He breathed a long sigh and pulled her
to him, holding her tightly against his chest. She was instantly
aware of the hardness that pressed against her belly, and visions
of his lonely passion filled her mind. She vividly remembered the
sight of the engorged length of flesh that teased her now, thick
and hard with unfulfilled desire. Her core ached for him, and it
seemed the most natural thing in the world to part her lips when he
crushed his mouth against hers.

His tongue was as smooth as his voice,
gliding past her teeth and entwining with her own. She melted
against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and clutching
handfuls of his coat. A lock of his hair brushed her cheek, and his
intoxicating scent filled her lungs. All the anxiousness and the
toll it had taken on her frayed nerves had been well worth it for
this.

It was a long while before their lips
parted, and even then, she only complied so she could catch her
breath. Opening her eyes, she blinked up at the stars.

They weren’t there. She stared in
bafflement at what first seemed an endless, lightless sky. But no,
it wasn’t quite that. There were stars, but they were smaller and
duller than usual, blurred almost beyond recognition. A sinking
feeling in the pit of her stomach caused her spirits to plummet.
She closed her right eye, and was promptly plunged into darkness.
Opening it again, she shut her other eye. Now she could see, but
her vision was poor. She clung desperately to Damon. “Don’t let me
go.”

“
I won’t.” He wrapped his
arms even more tightly around her body.

Her feet were useless against the
ground, the feeling in her legs gone. Caught up in passion, she
hadn’t noticed the numbness at first. She moved her head from side
to side, blinking. Everything was darker than it should have been
in the moonlight, and blurry besides. “God help me,” she
despaired.

“
What is it?” There was a
sharp note of alarm in Damon’s voice.