Devil's Desire (27 page)

Elysia wondered how she could possibly explain her current residence at Westerly, and all that had happened during the last two years.―

"You are managing all right, aren't you?" he continued, not noticing her silence, and then demanded sharply, "A chaperone. Who is chaperoning you at Rose Arbor? We've a shocking lack of relatives, if memory serves me correctly. You do have a chaperone, do you not, Elysia?"· he asked suspiciously, knowing her inclination for independence and rebelliousness.

"Rose Arbor had to be sold, Ian," she told him bluntly, hating to hurt him again. "Everything is gone. All that we knew, is no more―we've nothing."

"Gone!” Ian exclaimed incredulously. "But how? What happened?"

"We were in debt. It all had to be sold to payoff the creditors."

"And you, Elysia. What happened to you? You did not have to seek employment?" he demanded in outraged pride and arrogance, that his sister should be left penniless and destitute. Then he seemed to notice for the first time her elegance, and the fashionable clothes she was wearing. A look of disbelief entered his eyes as he said grimly, "Some man hasn't . . . hasn't become your protector?"

Elysia stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then as the realization of what he implied came to her, she flushed in a crimson tide of embarrassment, saying reproachfully, "Ian, how could you possibly believe that I would ever sink to such depths?" Elysia looked at him like a wounded animal that had been dealt a cruel blow.

Ian bent forward and kissed her scarlet cheek and explained sadly, "I've seen far too many heart-breaking and tormenting sights, since I left home, to be shocked, or indeed surprised by what may happen. Humanity has made a living Hell of this world. War, death, des-truction. I thought never to have seen such cruelty as I have seen," he said with the pain of remembrance shadowing his eyes.

"Ian. This may sound crazed to you―but why aren't you dead? We received a letter from the Ministry stating that you had been killed. It was the day after Mama and Papa died."

"Oh, my poor darling. What you must have gone through, and no one to comfort you. But you see, they did indeed believe I had died. We had engaged in a battle with a couple of Napoleon's big warships. My ship was out-classed, out-gunned and out-manned. We hadn't a chance, but we put up a valiant effort, until we were hit by a volley of big guns that I never want to see the likes of again. We went down like a lead weight―the whole bow on fire. Some of the crew were picked up by the French―destined for prisons, others that had been wounded had no chance at all―they drowned. I was lucky, for I caught hold of a piece of the hull, and drifted off with it concealing me. I was determined not to end up in some French prison―you very seldom leave one alive. I drifted for days―lost count of the time out on that endless sea. I couldn't believe it when I saw a dot far off in the distance. I thought it was a, mirage, or worse that I had lost my mind, until I saw that it was an island. It was someplace in the Mediterranean, and it took me close to two years to get through Europe, and back here to England. I was ill for months at a time―that slowed me down. And then 'Boney's finest' kept me under cover. Traveling only at night, I was careful not to run into any of his troops. My French stood me in good stead―never been so thankful for old Jacques' constant drilling of verbs when he was our tutor," he laughed.

"By the time I got to London, I had a pretty good working knowledge of all Napoleon's troop movements and placements on the Continent. The Ministry was quite surprised―and pleased―to have a chat with me. I've only been back for about three months, and due to some of the vital information to which I had access, I was greatly needed by the department to conclude it. I thought it best to finish it before heading north to see you and Mama and Father. I knew a message reporting that I was still alive, after so long would only disturb them if I wasn't there to prove it. So I just waited until I could go myself. I needn't have worried for the glad tidings would have been sent to strangers," he said bitterly.

"Oh Ian," Elysia spoke softly, her eyes full of pity.

"Where the hell are they," Ian growled and glanced over his shoulder at the empty landscape. "Where did he go, this―what was his name?"

"Charles."

"'Where did this Charles go to?" Ian swore, rapping out an oath. "He should have been back from the village long ago."

"He didn't go to the village. . . " Elysia took a deep breath. "He went to Westerly."

"Westerly? Why, devil take it, .did he go there? It's miles out of the way. Are you staying there?"

"In a way, yes."

"In what way? Are you a governess or something―no, couldn't be that.. The Marquis doesn't have children―in fact, he isn't even married. You shouldn't be staying there, Elysia. He has a bad reputation. I'd not trust you with him, my dear. We shall have to plan some other accommodation for you," he said looking at her in puzzlement. "How is it that you come to be there―you are not there alone?"

"Ian, I'm afraid you shall have to trust me with him. You see . . . I am married to the Marquis," Elysia told him gravely.

Ian looked incredulous, and for a second was speechless. "Married?" he repeated as if he could not believe it. "My God, Elysia, how could this occur? I feel as if I am in a whirlwind. There is so much that I am in the dark about. I don't―"

Ian cocked his head, listening. attentively, then grasping Elysia's hands said, "Listen Elysia. Riders are coming and I hear a carriage in the distance―so they will be here shortly to fetch you. I don't want to leave you, God knows, but I must―no don't speak, I must hurry. This is of the utmost importance. You must speak to no one about me. I am on a mission here, and it would be disastrous if I were discovered, so you must forget you have spoken with me. I must know how you are faring though. Is there a way I can get a message to you, or see you?"

"Jims is managing the stables. He's head trainer.'" Elysia remembered suddenly.

"Jims? Here?" Ian said with excitement. "That is marvelous. I shall contact him. But now I must go time is short; If you only knew how it pains me to abandon you," he said staring down into her pale face. "I am of the Inclination to stay," he said hesitating to rise.

"No, you must go! I shall be fine if Alex comes. Please, you must believe me, Ian," Elysia pleaded.

"Very well, my dear, but I feel like a swine. And I promise you I shall find the person who did this to you. Probably some poacher, or other riffraff hanging about these parts." He kissed her cheek and then the sun shone full into her eyes as he moved, blinding her momentarily. When Elysia looked around, he was gone-as if he had never been.

Elysia heard the furiously pounding hooves from a horse being ridden hard, and then felt herself being lifted up into warm strong arms, that held her securely―yet with a curious gentleness. She felt a warm breath on her cheek and opened her eyes to stare up into Alex's worried face, his golden eyes narrowed in concern.

"M'Lady, you seem to have gotten yourself into another mishap," he said in a teasing voice, despite the savage look in his eyes.

"Again I have caused you annoyance, M'Lord," Elysia managed to answer pertly enough before fainting.

Elysia spent the next few days confined to her bed, and under the mothering attentions of Dany. She was a tyrant in the sickroom, and thoroughly enjoyed herself now that she had two patients to cluck over. Peter was still convalescent, but improving rapidly with the recuperative powers of the young and healthy, He was already causing havoc, in his boredom and impatience, to anyone who entered his bedchamber―especially, the young maids.

Elysia received bouquets of flowers and baskets of fruit, with messages from Blackmore Hall and the guests with whom she had dined. All were solicitous of her health, with the exception of Lady Woodley.

Elysia was beginning to tire of her confinement, feeling fretful as the long hours passed slowly. She had only sustained a flesh wound, which was rapidly healing, and her ankle was now less painful, but she had been most stiff and sore from bruises and outraged muscles. She was also worried about Ian. To find out that he was alive and well was a miracle! She was no longer alone―she had a brother back again. But now not to be able to see him, talk to him, was indeed agony. Elysia had received word from Jims via the stable boy via the footman via the downstairs maid via the upstairs maid, and finally to Lucy―that he had seen Ian and all was well.

Alex divided his time between the two sick rooms with equal attentiveness. Sitting in a chair pulled up to her bed and reading to her and talking to her, making her laugh gaily and forgetting her boredom, Alex played the part of a devoted and loving husband. He could be quite charming when he so desired, and was an accomplished actor, she thought drily.
If
only she knew what he really felt. He had certainly looked worried when he found her hurt and in pain on the moors, she had to admit, He held her in his arms on the trip back to Westerly, allowing no else to touch her, until Dany had doctored her. He was. Brazenly angry, wanting to search out the fool who had accidentally shot her―but not a sign of anybody could be found. Elysia had felt a momentary twinge of fear, lest they should find Ian and suspect him of being the poacher.

Elysia pulled distractedly at the lace edging of her robe, and unable to stand it any longer, made It. face at the silently mocking faces on the lacquered screen that kept her company.

"It can't make a face back at you but I can," an amused voice spoke from the doorway.
      
 

Startled, Elysia looked around at the young man who stood there laughing; his face still bearing the signs of a recent illness as he made a grotesque face at her.

"You will scare those painted faces right off the screen if you continue," Elysia laughed.

"I've the suspicion you are as bored as I am with being laid up," he said dropping down gratefully onto a cushioned chair before the warm fire.

"Should you really be up and about yet?"

"If I'd stayed in that blasted bed another minute I would have started to grow to it," he declared passionately. "I'm your brother-in-law, by the way, Peter Trevegne."

"I'd surmised that. I'm not accustomed to inviting complete strangers into my salon." Even had she not recognized him at once as the young man who'd been carried in from the carriage that day, she would have known who he was―for he bore a great resemblance to Alex, with that shock of raven-black hair and hawk-like features. Except that his eyes were a soft blue-and friendly.

"Well, I should hope not! And, I hope I shall not remain a stranger to- you," he said, his eyes twinkling flirtatiously.

"I don't believe you shall―you are far too forward to allow that to happen," Elysia retorted impishly.

"By God! Alex said you were no simpering little mouse," he laughed in delight.

"Indeed, I'm not! I must apologize for being a complete failure as a hostess. Although this is your home, I should be entertaining you, and seeing to your needs―not the reverse."

"Please don't! I've. been 'seen to' enough to last me two lifetimes, what with Dany pouring that wretched witches brew down my throat, and the maids twittering and giggling about me like a nest of sparrows―and all of the time having to dampen my curiosity," Peter said in Ii grievous tone.

"About me? But as you can see, there is nothing to be curious about me."

"The fact that you are my sister-in-law is enough to cause wonder. If anyone would have told me a month ago that Alex would be married now, I would have suspected rats in their upper story. If I did not know my brother so well, I would suspect you of having accomplished the coup of the century―however, I'm of a mind to believe, now that I've seen you, that you never had a chance to escape Alex―he takes what he wants. I would warn you, if I thought it would do any good, not to cross swords with Alex," Peter warned, "but by the look of you I can see that it won't. I should know―I've been on my beam ends too many times after a confrontation with Alex."

"Your warning comes too late, my fingers have already been burnt―but I’ll not be tyrannized," she told Peter emphatically, a light of battle in her green eyes.
  
.

"Alex was right. You've a temper. He is certainly going to have his hands full," he laughed, amused by the thought of Alex meeting up with difficulties.

But Elysia did not laugh. Alex would not want to waste his time over her. He had the lovely widow to keep him busy. She had seen him from her window, out riding with Lady Woodley, who had predicted confidently that he would return to her.

"Odd that I never met you in London," Peter was saying when there were voices from the hall; and the salon door was opened to admit Charles and Jean-Claude d'Aubergere. The Count was carrying a large bouquet of yellow roses which he presented to Elysia, bowing deeply over her hand as he touched it lingeringly with his lips.

"That you should be so indisposed. I would kill the fiend that dared to do this to you,
ma petite ange,"
he exclaimed in a throbbing voice, his dark brown eyes gazing caressingly on her white shoulders that rose enticingly from the lace about the neck of her green silk robe.

"It is so kind of you to call, Count, and thank you for the beautiful roses." Elysia lifted the fragrant flowers to her nose and breathed appreciatively of their scented loveliness.