Taming the Shrew (9 page)

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Authors: Cari Hislop

Tags: #historical romance, #Fiction

BOOK: Taming the Shrew
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“Take me to the Devil.” She breathed in the familiar musty scent as her blood started to simmer.

“Very good Madam...this way.” The short narrow hall led straight to the room at the back of the house. There were no curtains on the windows. The inky black panes of glass reflected a large ebony desk centrally placed over a pale blue Abusson rug crossed with blood red triangles. The face of the tall thin man sitting behind the desk was hidden by a curtain of long straight black hair that draped the paper he was signing oblivious to her arrival. “Mrs de Vere to see you my Lord.”

“I’m not deaf Howard.”

“No my Lord.”

“In five minutes pay the ruffians and leave the front door unlocked.”

“Very good my Lord.” The old man quietly disappeared as the quill pen was thrown aside by a deathly pale hand. The black curtain of hair parted as he lifted his head making her involuntarily shudder in horror. In a gaunt face the colour of sour milk, evil pale blue eyes peered over silver spectacles that enlarged dark purple circles. Blood red lips twitched, but she couldn’t tell if he was amused or irritated by her reaction. Looking her up and down, he sat back in his chair as if he needed to be comfortable before deciding his next heinous sin. The thought of her Hervey at the mercy of the heartless pale blue eyes simmered her blood to a boil.

“Your house stinks like your carriage.” Her tone was full of disgust.

Anger flickered through pale blue eyes and was gone. “I heard you were a shrew. What is it the ton is calling you this week? Medusa?” His red lips twisted into an ugly leer, “Poor Hervey’s been as hard as stone for three years and in a few months he’ll feel like Prometheus. The boy’s luck has finally run out. I hope Hervey’s picked his liver; doubtless you’ll be eating it.” Julia’s eyes narrowed as she trembled in fury, but her reaction only amused the devil as his eyes travelled over her person. “I dare you to turn me to stone.” Juliana let out a piercing scream before grabbing one of the ruby glass paper weights on the man’s desk and throwing it at his head. A pleasing dull thud gave rise to profane curses as the man’s inkstand followed the same trajectory with satisfying accuracy.

Hell-fire flashed through pale blue eyes staring through a mask of black ink as he jumped to avoid the next flying object. “You Harpy! I wasn’t going to touch you, but now...” The satanic growl should have brought to mind every evil man can inflict on woman, but Juliana had never studied the art of war. She had no mental process for gauging her opponent’s superior strengths. She knew nothing but fury at the thought of her husband and his magic kisses being murdered on the command of an ugly heartless devil. She grabbed the silver candlestick, upside down with the wick still lit, and charged around the desk like a Goddess of vengeance. She got one good blow to the body, nearly setting herself alight, before he wrenched it from her hands and threw it in the fire. His attempt to save them both from going up in flames won her an opportunity to put her sharp claws to good use as she reached for soft flesh. The man’s neck was bleeding by the time he wrestled control of both her hands.

“If you hurt my Hervey creature I’ll tear out your black heart and eat it.” A piercing scream of death momentarily shattered the man’s nerves giving her a chance to sink her teeth into one of his arms. “You ugly stinking devil, I hate you!” His roar of pain was ill-harmonised by another ear splitting scream as she stomped on his bare feet.

Neither heard the front door burst open or running footsteps that slid to a stop in the middle of the study as Hervey, gasping for breath through clenched teeth, slowly cocked the Highwayman’s pistol as he pointed it at the tall man’s head. “Let go of my wife or you’re a dead man.”

Hearing Hervey’s voice, Juliana thrashed to break the ugly man’s hold and squeaked in shock as she was flung away to the floor. “Hervey creature!” She crawled to her husband’s feet and clawed her way up into his arms where she sobbed in relief that he wasn’t dead.

The devil sighed in relief and calmly wiped his face on his pale blue dressing gown. “You’ll find the pistol unloaded; I didn’t want them to accidentally kill you.” Hervey scowled at the ancient heavy weapon and threw it aside. All three jumped in horror as a shot exploded cracking the marble fire surround.

The devil glared at the spent pistol, “Hells teeth! I told the bastards not to use a loaded pistol...”

Hervey clutched his wife and barked at his host, “All this to ravish my wife? I should tear off your manhood and make you eat it.”

“Don’t be an ass Hervey; I wasn’t going to touch your hell-cat who I might add, attacked me.”

Looking up, Juliana stared at Hervey’s face. It seemed inconceivable that anyone could care for her enough to die for her, like the man holding her. She stared at his flushed masculine cheeks, white angry lips and cinnamon-orange hair burning on the top of his head like a flame of glory. How had she ever thought him ugly? He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen and he loved her. Her heart throbbed as a strange new peaceful feeling blossomed in her chest like an exotic hothouse plant. Pressing her cheek against Hervey’s heaving chest she tightened her arms around his hips and sobbed into his shirt front feeling safe as he growled, “You nearly frightened us to death. Why the devil did you bring us here? Have you any idea the hell you’ve put us through?”

“I wanted to meet your...” The ugly man snarled as he swallowed a long list of unpleasant words. “...wife. Remember, I asked you if I could call on her to pay my respects, but you declined the honour.”

“Of course I declined the honour. You’d have frightened her.”

“Frighten that virago? Don’t make me laugh. Look at me; she nearly brained me. I’m going to have a devilish bruise on my head in the morning. The woman’s dangerous as well as stupid. How could any woman think you ugly? I thought if I gave her an opportunity to see a truly ugly man she’d realise how lucky she was to have you. I sincerely regret my actions. For pity’s sake Hervey, if you haven’t bed her, get shod of her before she puts you in an early coffin.”

Juliana gasped in horror as her chest throbbed in pain at the thought of Hervey being persuaded to annul the marriage. She looked over her shoulder at the devil with renewed desire for his blood. “The only man I’m going to kill is you if you don’t shut up, you stupid ugly devil.”

The ugly man snarled at her, “Come near me again Shrew and I’ll take you over my knee and thrash your backside. I’ve known sluts with better manners...”

“Touch me and I’ll leave my teeth in your leg.”

Hervey clutched her closer as she returned her face to the safety of his shirt front. “Come near my wife again Lyndhurst and I won’t call you out, I’ll just shoot you. You may keep your future bargains.” The ugly man’s face and shoulders fell as if Hervey’s words had injured him. “Come Sweetheart, we’re leaving this hell-hole...” Juliana willingly allowed herself to be gently led out of the musty house and helped into the devil’s musty old carriage. The ruffians, having been given the rest of their money, had disappeared. Nothing existed, but the feel and smell of her husband’s arms.

...

The devil wiped ink off his face and winced at his body’s symphony of pain, “Howard!”

“You rang my Lord?”

“That was a bloody nightmare. The next time I concoct a hair brained scheme to help a thankless sod win the heart of a shrew, I order you to slap me.”

“As you wish my Lord, but I believe you were successful in persuading Mrs de Vere of her young husband’s merit. She left looking smitten with her hero.”

“Hurrah for Hervey...” Pale blue eyes filled with despair. “...at least he won’t be sleeping alone tonight.”

“Shall I procure some feminine company my Lord?”

“Would you want to wrestle a hungry harlot covered in ink and blood? She’d probably faint in terror, besides it’ll only make me jealous knowing Hervey’s woman enjoys his arms. Blast it, I knew Hervey would be angry, but I didn’t think he’d end our business dealings. I always looked forward to seeing him. Blast him; now I won’t have anyone pleasant to talk to from one week to the next. Howard, why is it every time I try to do something good I regret it?”

“I wouldn’t say my Lord.”

“No I don’t suppose you would. Blast love to Kingdom come. Why do men turn into blind fools when afflicted by the sentimental disease?”

“Perhaps you’ll find the answer when the affliction strikes Your Grace.”

“I’ll never be that lucky. I wonder what it’s like...to be loved...” The devil stared off into space as he remembered his one chance meeting with infinite kindness. The loss choked him with angry bile. “To Hell with love, I need a hot bath. Send the boot boy for the doctor and bring me the vinegar for my war wounds, she bit me.”

“At once my Lord.”

Chapter 13

Juliana meekly allowed herself to be carried into her house, fascinated by the play of shadows cast by Hervey’s white cravat against his white shirtfront pinned closed with a single sapphire. As he stopped in the hall and ordered her bed warmed and a pot of hot chocolate, her only awareness was of the pleasant quality of his voice rising and falling. She sighed in contentment until he carried her to her chamber and set her in a chair near the fire. She scowled as he pried his waistcoat from her fingers, but her irritation melted as he took hold of her left hand and lovingly chafed it between his two larger hands. “Sweetheart...I’m worried about you; I think you may be having a turn. You haven’t heard a single word...”

Her eyes wandering over the pleasant aspect of her husband, momentarily settled on dark brown eyes. “I’m sorry Hervey creature, did you say something?”

“I said I’m worried; I think you may be having a turn.”

Her eyes rolled from side to side. “Having a turn? Don’t be daft, I feel wonderful.” She smiled up at him hoping he’d lean over and kiss her.

“You’ve just had a terrifying ordeal; I’m going to send for the doctor.”

“I hate the doctor, he’s a stupid man.”

“Sweetheart, you have a strange look in your eyes. I’m worried. I’ve heard of people walking away from carriage accidents and then dying from no discernable injury. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m perfectly well Hervey creature. I don’t know why you’re fussing, but I like it.” She ignored the maids as they arrived with the bed warmers; the bedding turned back and the mattress methodically ironed. She impulsively reached up and removed his black hat and threw it across the room. “That’s better.” She could now appreciate the full affect of his perfect pale features topped with orange fire. He looked like he’d escaped an Irish fairy mound and was pretending to be human. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“No, how old are you really?”

Her husband paused in his ministrations and turned to the leaving maids. “Send for the doctor and have the kitchen make us a hot water bottle. Mrs de Vere is poorly.”

“Very good Sir.”

“I’m not poorly and I don’t want to see the stupid doctor...I think you must be as old as rolling green hills. What’s wrong? You look upset...have I discovered your secret?”

“You don’t sound at all like yourself...” She blushed with pleasure at his insistent tone and reached up to touch his hair. “...I fear your brain has been affected.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my brain.” She gently tugged a thick lock of orange hair. “I think you’re trying to enchant me...I wonder where you’ll take me. Hopefully not to that creepy house; do you have a secret house under a hill? Are you cold?”

“No.”

“Then take off your overcoat...” She sat up and took hold of his waistcoat pulling his face down so she could look him in the eyes. “...you’ll stay tonight, won’t you... Sweetheart?” The man groaned as he crumpled to his knees and stared up at her with a pained expression. “Sweetheart, what is the matter? You don’t look happy. Have you changed your mind? Has that stupid ugly devil persuaded you to get an annulment? I’ll kill him!”

“I don’t want an annulment.”

“Well what’s the matter?”

“You called me Sweetheart, like you meant it...”

“I know.” A dreamy smile lit up her eyes. “Aren’t you pleased?”

“I want to believe it, but you’re not acting normal.”

“What’s normal? I wish you’d kiss me...where are you going?” Juliana felt panic crush her happy heart as Hervey jumped to his feet and headed for the door.

“I’m going to send in a maid to help you undress. I’ll return with the doctor.”

Her eyes filled with tears, “Don’t leave me Hervey creature...”

“I’m not leaving Sweetheart. I’ll be downstairs waiting for the doctor.”

Juliana’s shoulders slumped as the door closed on her heart. The maid who came in to help her undress was unsurprised to find her young mistress alternating between angry tears and snarling curses on heartless orange-heads. Forty-five minutes later she was lying face down in her bed, her husband’s wool hat smouldering in the grate filling the air with the unpleasant smell of burnt wool as she pressed her heartbroken tears into the mattress. The Hervey creature didn’t want her, he thought she was mad. The awful thought pinched her heart as she listened to the double footsteps approach her door. The light knock made her clench her teeth; the orange-head was so polite, so heartless. “Sweetheart? The doctor’s here.” She muttered curses on all doctors into her mattress until the door opened and her husband whispered, “She’s in bed...I’ll see if she’s awake.”

“Go to the devil and take that mirror gazing quack with you.”

“She’s awake and sounding like herself, but I’d like you to examine her...”

“I’m not some sick filly to run at Newmarket. Go to the devil you orange-head.”

She felt someone sit on the edge of the bed and heard the doctor clear his throat. “I understand you’ve had a harrowing experience this evening Mrs de Vere. Your husband is concerned...”

“The stupid ugly orange-head thinks I’m mad.”

“Sweetheart you know I love you, please don’t call me names it hurts my feelings.” She could hear he was standing next to the bed.

“Your husband is concerned that you’ve...”

“He thinks I’ve had a turn. He thinks I’m mad.” A scream of death was muffled by the mattress.

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