The Bride of Devil's Acre (2 page)

“And there isn’t anyone else?”

Devil heaved a sigh. Finn was like a starving dog with a bone. “We’ve bought, bribed, and stolen all the votes we can get our hands on. Edwards is the last of the small county lords; everyone else is beyond even my considerable reach. His is the last vote we need, and without it everything else we’ve done to get this far is for naught.”

“We’ve never done anything like this,” Finn warned. “There’s no telling what kind of trouble you’ll be pulling down on our heads.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Devil drawled, with all the confidence of the man who ruled Devil’s Acre and owned Purgatory itself.
 

“You don’t know that!” Finn rapped his knuckles on the desk. If only he could pound some sense into his boss. “We’re talking about kidnapping and extortion.”

“It’s one vote.” Devil dismissed the risk with a flick of his wrist. “It will cost the man nothing, not compared to getting his daughter back safe and sound.”

“A lot could go wrong.”

“Nothing is going to go wrong.” Devil stood, signaling the end of the conversation. “Get the crew together. I want to go over everything before nightfall.”

“So that’s it then?” Finn rose. He stood half a head shorter than Devil but looked the man in the eyes.
 

“Enough of a discussion for you?” Devil asked, one brow raised.

“I guess it will have to be.” Finn knew when to quit. Devils eyes had gone hard and unyielding, and there was that muscle in his jaw that was starting to twitch. A sure sign it was time for Finn to back down or risk being knocked on his arse. And Devil wouldn’t need Moose; he’d throw the punch himself.

Planting his palms on his desk, Devil bent his head. His shoulder-length hair swung forward, momentarily hiding his face from the others. Frowning, he studied the map. “The location?”

Finn sighed. “This section here,” he said, indicating a small stretch of street between two alleyways. “It’s narrow and should be deserted at that time of night.”

“You have the girl’s schedule?”

“Aye, no trouble there.”

“How many maids did you fuck for the information?”

“Two.” Finn’s smile was the same one he’d used on the maids. “But I could have stopped with the first; the second was for confirmation—and for fun.”

Devil’s lips twitched. Finn’s methods may be crude, but they were effective. No maid would ever admit to sharing household secrets, especially when it was done naked, in the wee hours of the morning wrapped in the arms of one very unscrupulous Irishman.
 

“Who do you want to use to make the grab?”

“The usual crew.” Devil folded up the map and handed it to Finn. Moose couldn’t read and wouldn’t know how to make heads or tails of the streets sketched out on the paper.

“Carver?”

The hair on the back of Devil’s neck prickled. “No,” he said, shrugging off the sensation. “He enjoys this sort of thing a bit too much. Take Jimmy.”

“The wee lad?” Finn scoffed. “Not much muscle there.”

“That’s my job,” Moose said, flexing his fingers and making a fist. A retired bare-knuckles fighter, Moose didn’t have much to add when it came to conversation, but he’d never been knocked down in the ring, and he owed Devil his life.
 

“We’ll meet back here at midnight,” Devil said. “That should give you enough time to get there and into position.”

“Excellent.” Finn clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Come on, Moose. That gives us plenty of time to visit the ladies.”

“Oh no,” Moose said, getting to his feet slowly. It was hard to believe that such a lumbering man could have moved so fast in the ring. “The ladies don’t like me much.”

“That’s the great thing about whores,” Finn said, slapping his companion on the shoulder. “They’re paid to like you.”

Moose shook his head. “Even the easy ones are afraid of me.”

Devil glanced up, considering the man as a woman might see him.
 

Moose towered over Devil’s own six feet, four inches and weighed in at close to seventeen stones. It had been years since he’d last stepped into the ring, but none of that muscle had gone to fat, and his hands could still issue a punishing blow.
 

The whores were wise to take care.

“Annie likes you,” Finn said, referring to one of the whores at the Petal & Thorn. He dragged Moose to the door. “She’ll see you set up with someone nice.”

Devil watched the two men leave. Falling back into his chair, he scrubbed at his face with his hands. Damn, Finn! The man never knew when to shut his trap, which, if he were honest, was why Devil kept him around.

The prickle of unease brought on by the mention of Carver’s name hadn’t gone away. No matter. He wouldn’t be with them on this one, so Devil didn’t need to worry about Carver doing something stupid.
 

Or insane.

“Good afternoon, my lady.”

“Good afternoon.” Jacqueline handed the Morgans’ butler her card. “Lady Morgan is expecting me.”

“Of course,” he said, taking Jacqueline’s shawl and gloves and handing both to a waiting footman. “If you’ll follow me.”

Jacqueline followed the butler to the sitting room where Catherine stood to greet her.
 

“Jacqueline!” Catherine clasped Jacqueline’s hands and pressed a friendly kiss to her cheek. “You look wonderful!”

“Me? Look at you!” Jacqueline stepped back, spreading their joined arms and smiling. “You look beautiful!”

Catherine had always been beautiful, and neither time nor motherhood had done anything to change that. Perhaps her waist was slightly thicker, and there were light shadows under her friend’s brown eyes, but the eyes themselves were bright with happiness, and Catherine’s smile practically split her face.
 

“How are you?” Jacqueline asked, letting the tension from the morning go and settling in to enjoy an afternoon visit.

“Wonderful! Exhausted…tired beyond belief.” Catherine laughed, rolling her eyes at herself.

Jacqueline laughed. She couldn’t help it; her friend’s happiness was contagious. “Tell me everything.”

“We named him Bentley, and he is the most beautiful baby in the world! Though, I suppose all mothers feel that way,” Catherine admitted, jumping right into her favorite topic.

Right. Bentley, the baby, and the reason for Jacqueline’s visit. Though, she had hoped to hear about Catherine’s travels and her time on the Continent. Jacqueline had always wanted to travel, but her father preferred to stay in London. Their trips to the museum were the closest she’d ever come to visiting other lands.
 

“Will I get to see him?” Jacqueline had never been around babies before and wasn’t sure what one did with them.

“Of course,” Catherine said. “I asked Nanny to bring him down in a bit. But I thought to catch up first. Oh! I forgot tea.”

Jacqueline watched as Catherine jumped up and hurried to give the bellpull a tug.

“I apologize.” Catherine tucked a stray lock of sable hair behind her ear. “I find myself a bit scatterbrained these days. It’s all Bentley’s fault, of course.” Catherine’s smile took the accusation out of her words. “He’s quite the little piglet and is up every two hours wanting to nurse.”

Jacqueline blinked.
Nurse
? “Don’t you have someone to do that for you?”

“Oh, I know it’s dreadfully out of fashion, but I prefer to do it myself,” Catherine said, her eyes warming as she spoke of her son. “It’s our time together, just the two of us when the rest of the house is quiet.”

“Sounds lovely,” Jacqueline said, surprised to find that it did. She pictured Catherine cradling her son to her breast, mother and child focused on one another to the exclusion of all else.

“I never thought I would enjoy motherhood as much as I have,” Catherine admitted as tea was brought in and she proceeded to pour. “Well, you remember what I was like!”

 
“What we were both like!” The two girls had come out together, their first season in London a whirlwind of dancing and parties and gentlemen. Catherine had met her husband, Lord Morgan, that year. The two had been married and the young bride whisked away to the Continent for an extended honeymoon. Shortly after her return to London, Catherine had announced she was increasing with the earl’s first child.

“Yes, but you haven’t changed,” Catherine said, not unkindly. “You’re still so carefree.”

Is that what she was? Jacqueline thought of her father and the scene at breakfast. Looking around the sunny sitting room, Catherine perched on the edge of her seat, Jacqueline felt as if her clock had stopped. She sat stagnant in the river of life, the world parting around her as time streamed past her.

No, she wasn’t carefree. She was trapped.
 

“Jacqueline?” Catherine asked softly. “Are you all right?”

Jacqueline mentally shook herself. “Perfectly.”

“Excuse me, my lady.”

Jacqueline was saved from further comment by the timely arrival of the new baby.

“Oh, here he is now!” Catherine said, reaching for her son. “How is my darling?”

“His little lordship is due for his nap, my lady,” Nanny said, handing over the sleepy newborn.

“Of course he is.” Catherine gazed down at her son. “That’s all you do, isn’t it? Eat and sleep. Thank you, Nanny. I’ll bring him up shortly.”

Jacqueline watched Catherine rock her son gently. Afternoon sunlight bathed the two of them in warm light, the image reminiscent of the many paintings of mother and child found throughout history.
 

“Lord Morgan must be thrilled.”
 

Catherine looked up. “Hm?”

“To have a son,” Jacqueline clarified. Wasn’t that what all men wanted? A son, someone to carry on their name. She wondered if things would have been different with her father had she been born male.
 

Catherine smiled. “William is thrilled, of course, but honestly I think he would have enjoyed having a daughter just the same. He’s already talking about wanting another one.”

“So soon?” Jacqueline asked, surprised. Though she didn’t know the first thing about having babies, it seemed awfully sudden.

“Well, not right away.” Catherine’s blush suggested that his lordship was already trying. “But we both want a big family.”

Family. For Jacqueline, that meant her and her father.

“Would you like to hold him?” Catherine asked, holding the infant out in her arms.

“What? Oh…no…I couldn’t,” Jacqueline said, shaking her head vigorously.

“Of course you can.”
 

Jacqueline stiffened as Catherine settled the slight weight of the baby in her arms. Bentley grunted, his cupid’s-bow mouth puckering as he was jostled and his sleep disrupted.

“Just hold his head here,” Catherine instructed, tucking the baby into the crook of Jacqueline’s elbow.

Jacqueline froze.

Catherine didn’t go far. Pressed close to Jacqueline’s side, she appeared ready to catch the baby should holding him prove too much for her.

“He’s the image of his father, don’t you think?”
 

Jacqueline didn’t think the baby resembled Catherine or her husband, not unless Lord Morgan had recently taken on resembling a pug.
 

Staring down at the sleeping baby, Jacqueline traced his flat nose and chubby cheeks with her fingertip. “He’s so soft,” she muttered, awed.

“You should smell his head,” Catherine murmured, her eyes on her son.

Jacqueline jerked back. The baby was cute, but there was no need to get personal. “I think I’ll pass,” she said, handing Bentley back to his mother. “He really is beautiful,” she said, knowing the new mother was waiting for affirmation on the state of her young.

“He is, isn’t he?” Catherine gazed down at her son, her face soft and radiant despite the lack of sleep. “I’m biased, I know, but I can’t help but think he is the most beautiful baby in all the world.”

“Of course he is,” Lord Morgan said, strolling into the room. “He takes after his mother.”

Jacqueline rose, offering Lord Morgan her hand.

“Lady Edwards, how lovely to see you.”

“Lord Morgan.” Jacqueline watched as Catherine’s husband bent down, pressing a kiss to his wife’s cheek and cupping his son’s head gently.

“I ran into Nanny,” Lord Morgan said. “I wanted to check on you both before I stepped out for the day.”

“Escaping to your club?” Catherine teased, smiling up at her husband.

“Hardly.” William cupped his wife’s cheek, noting the circles under her eyes. “You should get some sleep while he naps.”

Jacqueline sat silently, watching the small family. A pang in her chest told her this was a private moment, and it was time for her to go.
 

“Your husband is right,” Jacqueline said, rising. “I should go and let you get some sleep.”

“Oh no! So soon?” Catherine asked.

Jacqueline nodded. “It was wonderful seeing you both.” Jacqueline glanced from Catherine to her son. She could still feel the ghost of the baby in her arms.
 

“I’m so glad you came,” Catherine said, starting to rise. “I’ll see you out.”

“No, don’t get up.” Jacqueline motioned the new mother back into her chair. “I can see myself out.”

Catherine’s smile was full of appreciation. “I fear I was dreadfully boring, going on about the baby the way I did.”

“Nonsense.” Jacqueline kissed Catherine’s cheek as she passed. “Congratulations, again.”

“Thank you, Lady Edwards,” Lord Morgan said, tipping his head to his wife’s friend. “I hope you will call on my wife again soon.”

“Of course.” Jacqueline’s response was noncommittal. There was very little reason for her to return. Catherine wasn’t the same girl Jacqueline had known during her coming-out. Neither was she, for that matter. The two of them had ended up in vastly different places, and the distance between them was a long way to travel.
 

Outside, Jacqueline took a deep breath, and a moment to collect herself.
 

Catherine was happy. Well and truly happy in a way Jacqueline had never witnessed before. The woman practically glowed with love for her husband and son.