Hold Your Breath 01 - Stone Devil Duke (13 page)

“Aggie, sweetheart, wake up
, honey.”

The gentle prodding voice of Aunt Beatrix
, coupled with the jostling of her arm, pulled Aggie out of the deep abyss.

“Aggie, honey, you mu
st get up if we are to be ready.” Aunt Beatrix continued her gentle demands.

Aggie turned over onto her stomach in bed,
one bare arm flopping down the side of the bed. Her head sank deep into the feather pillow, and she fought consciousness to regain the cavernous sleep she was just lost in.

Then her head sta
rted to pound.

Skull near exploding, she sat up, swaying with grogginess.

Why her aunt would be at her townhouse, prodding her awake, was beyond Aggie at the moment. But wait. She squinted through her pounding forehead, scanning her surroundings.

She wa
sn’t at her townhouse. She was at her aunt and uncle’s home.

Befuddled
, she found focus on her aunt, sitting on the edge of the bed. The pain sent nausea to her stomach, and she raised her hand to her forehead to touch the origin of the painful shards. Fingers slid across a scab that ran just past her hairline, and her eyes opened wide, bewildered. Aunt Beatrix smiled at her sympathetically, patted her hand, and dabbed a tear off the edge of her own eye.

“Aunt Bea, why…” Aggie’s raspy voice broke off
as fuzzy shreds of nothing floating through her mind. She didn’t even know what to ask in her groggy state.

Eye
s growing wider as moments passed, Aggie demanded in a low whisper, “Aunt Bea, how long have I been asleep?”

“Oh
, dear, it has been a day and a night,” Aunt Beatrix said. “You woke up yesterday, do you not remember?” She waved her hand. “It was only for a short while, though. You arrived here about six yesterday morn. Giving us quite a fright, I might add. But no need to worry. It is now only nine in the morning, and you still have plenty of time, sweetheart.”

“
Time?” Aggie asked. The throbbing in her brain ruined any chance she had to follow Aunt Beatrix’s scattered talk.

“Why yes
, time to get properly attired for the wedding,” Beatrix said, rising from the edge of the bed. She walked across the room to fetch a light cream gown with a low-fitted bodice, embroidered by French lace and complete with a flowing train.

“
I had the maid try to wash that dreadful black stuff off your face, but she just made it worse. And you shoved her away. None too politely. So you need to wash it yourself, it is quite smeared, my dear. Unfortunately, there is no time for a bath. I would prefer that there be time, but I have to listen to Howard. It is what it is.” She laid the dress at the end of the bed. “Put this on, and I shall be back with a maid in a few moments to do your hair. It was certainly lucky that I had bought this dress for your birthday on our last trip to France.”

Birthday. France. Bath.
Did she say wedding? Aggie fought the sway as a feeling of dread twinged into the corners of her mind. Why would her brain not work? “What is going on, Aunt Bea?”

Aunt Beatrix
gave her an odd smile, then scooted out of the room without so much as a glance back at Aggie. No answer to her question.

The feeling of impending doom
grew. But at least her headache had moved from vibrating sharp pangs into her body, to a persistent pounding located mostly in her mind.

N
ot able to make her brain function, much less grasp what her aunt prattled on about, Aggie decided to follow the simple instructions Aunt Beatrix had left her with. Wash her face.

Aggie
pulled herself out of bed, each movement sending painful shards through the thumping in her head. She wore a shift that wasn’t hers—when had that happened?

Both hands clasped on
to her head to hold it still, she trudged over to the basin with tepid water and looked at herself in the silver encased mirror poised above.

Alarm shot through her. She
looked freakishly terrible. No wonder her aunt looked at her with such worry.

The dark soot
on her face had smudged and expanded, her hair could not have been in more disarray, and was that dried blood trailing down her cheek?

What the hell had happened to her?

As much as she tried to get a solid thought in her head, she couldn’t grasp onto anything. Sighing at her own blasted ignorance, she dunked the washcloth into the bowl.

F
ace scrubbed raw, she walked over to the gown her aunt had left for her to wear. Why her aunt would have her wear such a gown at nine in the morning was beyond her muddled mind’s comprehension. Shaking her head, she put on the dress. Simple instructions. Hold onto those.

Sitting heavy onto
the settee, she closed her eyes, attempting to get her mind in working order again. She followed back through the darkness. She was at the ball. The Samuelson ball—no, the Appleton party. Inside, then out. She smelled roses. Then Devin. Oh God, Devin. He kissed her. A flush rushed her cheeks. He kissed her hard.

Then what?

Her aunt and uncle. Hell.

She hit a big black wall of
no memories. Nothing after that.

A
knock on the door made her jump. Without a reply from Aggie, her aunt bustled in with ribbons, maid in tow.

Aunt Beatrix pulled Aggie to her feet, turning her and starting
up the long line of buttons in the back of Aggie’s silk gown. The maid started working on the tangled blond ends of her hair.

Buttons done, her aunt
steered her to the stool before the little mahogany vanity to sit. She started to untangle the other side of Aggie’s hair. For having an excruciating headache, neither the maid, nor her aunt afforded much gentleness as they worked through the snarls. Frenzied, even. Aggie turned her head and caught sight of a clock atop the corner bureau. Ten minutes to ten.

“Aggie, honey, your uncle
has yet to share the full story with me, but frankly, I am not sure I actually care to know how you showed up on our doorstep yesterday morning.”

Aggie
tried to concentrate on her aunt’s chattering, but the explosions in her head still commanded more attention.

The maid finished plaiting Aggie’s hair, and went on to twist in the ribbons.

“
I guess I would prefer to remain ignorant about the whole ordeal. Especially since you are alive and healthy. I do not need my imagination running away without me.” Aunt Beatrix tugged a lock of hair, re-igniting the aching through Aggie’s skull. “And even though your uncle and I had this goal in mind, we had hoped to go about these activities in a more proper way—mind you, we are not about to argue with the situation, after all, lemons and lemonade, dear.”

Aunt Beatrix followed the maid around Aggie’s head, tucking and twisting strands to her liking,
deftly creating beauty. “Your mother will not be privy to the details of when and how you showed up on our doorstep yesterday—not that she could even comprehend it, poor dear.”

“Details?” Agg
ie interrupted. Why would her aunt need to hide details? Aggie tilted her head to her aunt. “What details, and why would they upset my mother?”

“Oh dear, you do
not recall anything of arriving here?”

Aggie shook her head.
The maid stepped away and left the room.

Her aunt clasped her hands in front of her ample bosom.
“Truly? Nothing at all?”

The feeling of dread
from earlier intensified in Aggie’s gut. “Aunt Bea, what happened?”

“Well
, dear…” Aunt Beatrix hedged, playing with a rogue strand of hair along Aggie’s forehead. “As I said earlier, I do not know why or how the Duke of Dunway came about bringing you to our doorstep—”

“
Dev—his grace brought me here?”

Realization
filtered through Aggie’s headache. No, it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t be possible. There was no need. And why the hell couldn’t she remember anything?

“Aunt Bea
.” Aggie’s voice punctuated her words as dread stiffened every pore in her body. “Just whose wedding will I be attending today?”

Aunt Beatrix
’s sympathetic smile was all the answer Aggie needed.

~~~

The coach had just made it outside of the city limits.

Devin
looked across the carriage at his new wife, only to catch a rabbit-trapped-in-steel-claws look, and inwardly winced. He was not a brute dragging his woman off by the hair, but he felt every bit of it.

He knew she didn’t want this. Hell—it was him. He wanted this. He wanted her. And he had made it happen. He
wasn’t forced into this marriage. He could have taken her to her home, called a doctor, and walked away.

Sure, she might have been ruined
—but he couldn’t do that to her. Not after all she had suffered. He wanted her, enough to make this happen—anyway it needed to.

He had hoped Aggie’s
aunt would have let him have a few moments alone with her before the wedding to explain the situation calmly. He knew Aggie would need the rational explanation, but her aunt was ferocious about keeping the wedding, if not the engagement, proper.

Avoiding the petrified set to h
er face, his eyes swept over Aggie. Before they left she had changed into a traveling ensemble, with a deep purple jacket fitted close to her body, accentuating her curves. He had not allowed her time to change her hair, so it was still bundled atop her head with ribbons intertwined, but now a jaunty little matching hat sat half atop the bundle. Soft honey wisps curled about her neck, and Devin’s thoughts meandered to brushing them aside when he got the chance to enjoy her sweet skin again. To actually make it downward along the gentle slope, clothes not hindering progression to the tips of her breasts.

Devin
shifted slightly. Damn, he wanted her. All the more so when she didn’t have charcoal smeared on her cheeks, a drunkard’s smell about her, and men’s breeches on. But maybe the breeches could make an occasional appearance—they did curve around her buttocks nicely.

He
pulled his eyes off her and busied himself with plucking nonexistent lint off his pants. Had he known he would be anticipating bedding Aggie with this intensity, he might have thought twice about immediately leaving for Stonewell. An afternoon in his bedroom would have wiped the panicked look from her face, he would have made sure of that. But leaving for his main country estate was the safest choice.

He wanted his
new wife completely out of danger, and the best place for that to happen was at Stonewell. His own selfish lusting would have to wait. At least until tonight.

Aggie took a deep breath,
and his eyes shifted upward on her body. Not exactly a sigh, but it noticeably raised her chest. Damn enticing. Devin stretched out a leg and exhaled silently. It was going to be a long ride.

He knew he was going to have to make this sudden marriage right for her, though, before he touched her. He wanted her willing, open. Not performing a duty.

For himself, he had decided Killian’s jammering-on about heirs
maybe did have some merit. As bonus, it would shut his friend up. Although Devin generally disliked the thought of having a wife—mistresses were far simpler to manage—he did enjoy children, and Aggie could provide him with that.

As for settling on a
wife, Aggie was a fine choice. He knew she was as honorable as a woman could get, and that life with her didn’t contain the threat of ever being boring. Plus, he admitted to himself, he was becoming somewhat fond of the nymph. Not to mention he felt an inescapable need to keep her safe.

But
how to convince her the marriage was a good choice? She would benefit tremendously from the marriage. She would be protected, her family would be protected, she would have more comfort and money than she could ever desire, and, she could come and go as she pleased.

No. Devin corrected himself. S
he couldn’t come and go as she pleased. Her safety depended on it for now, and when the threat was removed…well, it would be better for their future children if she refrained from gallivanting about.

R
egardless, she would be content. If he explained it to her, he was confident her posture would not reflect the defeat of a person sentenced to the gallows. He looked out the carriage window, searching for a way to start.

“I a
m sorry.”

Devin
’s startled eyes darted to Aggie. Did he really just hear that? “What was that?”

“I am
sorry, and please do not make me say it again,” Aggie whispered, her gaze directed at her white-gloved, clasped hands.

Devin
still didn’t believe his ears.

“I know that marriag
e was the last thing you wanted. I know that it was my own idiocy and, well…stubbornness that got us into this situation.” Her eyes stayed down. “I have just been alone for so long, with so much to handle. I did not know how to accept your help. I wanted to trust you, truly, but it was so hard, and I could not. Not after…I should have gone about things differently. So I apologize.”