Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (241 page)

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Both Jessica and Devlin were pensive through the evening meal. Fry’s glower continually directed at Jessica got no response.

As they finished eating, Hardwick was telling a long, involved account of an adventure in Scotland, when Devlin interrupted to excuse himself, saying he had business to consider.

Jessica watched him climb the stairs. Almost immediately, Henry scurried from the duke’s chamber, having obviously been dismissed.

Staring at the stairway after Devlin disappeared, the dowager quietly — speaking beneath Hardwick’s narrative — suggested she and Jessica retire to “sit by the fire” in Lady Anne’s chamber and “leave the men to their stories and their brandies.”

As she had conscientiously ignored Fry’s ruthless squints and thinly veiled verbal threats, which had become less and less subtle through the meal, Jessica was happy to leave. While she was not concerned about Fry for herself, she felt restless about Devlin’s safety.

Disregarding Fry, Jessica nodded at the dowager’s suggestion, stood, and left the room without excuses or wishing good evening to the others.

Although Jessica and the dowager each took needlework, neither seemed inclined to it.

“I don’t like Devlin’s sudden dark mood,” Lady Anne said. “I’m surprised. I expected Lattimore and the others to lift his spirits, not send him plunging back to the depths.” She held quiet for a moment or two. “Jessica, do you think the change in his mood signals a relapse?” She slanted a glance at the younger woman. “I thought we were beyond that. If it hadn’t been for you, my dear, he would not have managed as well as he has until now. You perform a vital service in this household, dearest.” When her companion did not respond, Lady Anne tried again. “Do you think we came to town too soon?”

Jessica laid her handwork aside. “May I be excused, Your Grace?”

“Certainly my dear. Do you have a headache?”

“No, Your Grace.” Without further explanation, Jessica rose and walked listlessly to her quarters directly across the hallway.

Lady Anne was curious about the behavior of both of her usually vibrant companions. Questions begged answers. She did not like to interfere in the relationships of others. This was neither her business nor her responsibility.

If not hers, then whose? Thinking her way to a conclusion, she set aside her knitting and, whipping her mind to resolute, walked to Devlin’s rooms.

He did not respond to her light knock until she identified herself. After another moment’s delay, he called for her to enter.

He stood in the center of the room, his hands fisted behind his back as if he had been pacing. The dowager duchess studied her son’s expression and wondered at the tension in his stance as she entered and closed the door quietly behind her.

“Jessica has gone to her rooms. I suppose we all need rest.” She advanced the innocuous salvo as a peace offering.

“I see.” He scowled at the rug as if entertaining troubling thoughts. “Lattie’s arrival changes things.”

The dowager’s concern deepened. “Oh, darling, they are just here for a couple of nights, to check on us and as a respite from living at their club.”

“And to inspect Jessica.”

“It is quite natural for Lattie to be curious about a person we have taken into our home and our hearts. Perhaps he was concerned she might be a different sort, cunning or someone with evil intentions.”

“Do you think he believes neither you nor I would recognize evil intent? We would need the baby to rescue us?” Devlin grimaced. “Don’t be ridiculous, madam.”

She didn’t care for his tone, but thought it best to disregard it for the moment. “Regardless, Devlin, they are leaving soon, going to the Hardwicks’ country home in Bristol.”

“To Bristol?” He pivoted to face her. “The way is near Shiller’s Green and Welter. They said none of them had been that direction.”

“Perhaps they did not realize the proximity. They are going to deliver a new brougham and team purchased by Marcus’s father, and to visit his family, of course.”

“Does Lattie go to Bristol often?”

“I don’t know, Devlin. If he did, I think he would stop in on us when we are at Gull’s Way.” She glanced away. “Although Lattie says the keep holds too many sad memories. He is terribly sentimental about your father and Roth. Losing them was a terrible blow to him, coming during his formative years.” She looked again to her elder son. “What does it matter who goes to Bristol or when?”

“I was on the road from Bristol when I was attacked.”

“Darling, I doubt one thing has to do with the other.”

“Still, it seems a curious coincidence.”

“People from London travel west all the time. Are you worried about Lattie’s safety? I hardly think thieves would attack three of them. If they did, the brigands probably would get the worst of it.”

Devlin gave a thoughtful frown. “Yes, I suppose.” He appeared to shake off his dark thoughts. “All right, madam, what activities have you scheduled for you and your charge tomorrow?”

“I thought we might take a day or two away from the gadding about and let Jessica rest?”

“Rest? Why? Has she complained of fatigue?”

“No, darling. I thought she might need to recuperate after your brutish behavior.” The dowager was casting a line to test his response.

He recognized the ploy. Did his mother know? Had someone mentioned his inappropriate behavior? He needed to cover his confusion. “If that is your concern, madam, perhaps you should have this conversation with her. She may prefer not to be in my presence after what transpired.”

“Darling, Jessica knows it was an accident.” She drew close and patted his shoulder.

“The thump on her nob?” Obviously the dowager did not know more than that. “Yes, I am sure she does.”

“She has a forgiving nature. Your friendship will endure.”

“I suppose.” Still, he was troubled.

“You did apologize, didn’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Was she aware of your apology?”

He shot her an incredulous look. “What do you mean?”

“Was she addled?”

“When do you mean?”

“When you apologized.”

“Oh, that. Yes. Well, I mean, I think she was conscious and completely aware of … of what I said.” He lowered his voice. “Not, perhaps, of my bizarre behavior.”

Sensing something amiss, the duchess adopted a conspiratorial tone. “What is troubling you, Devlin?” She started to suggest possibilities, but deemed it better to wait.

He dropped into a chair. Deferring to his obvious distress, she forgave his rudeness in not inviting her to be seated first.

“For a few moments today, Mother, I had sight.”

Lady Anne was sweeping her dress to one side preparing to sit, but his words jolted and she remained on her feet. She blinked hard to stanch the instantaneous tears of joy. Noting his troubled look, she swallowed percolating joy, and responded instead with a soothing, “Darling, that is wonderful. How grand to have your sight back.”

“It isn’t back. It merely comes and goes, rather whimsically.”

“Oh.” She had no idea why such happy news had made him so miserable. She decided to delve further. “When did it happen?”

“Today’s occurrence was not an isolated incident. I have had glimpses of light beginning even before we left Gull’s Way.”

“Did you mention this to Dr. Conner?”

“Yes.” He bit his lips. “For the most part, I have had teasing glimpses of light and form. Recently, they are more distinct and last longer.” He shook his head. “This one came when Jessica was injured on the floor, barely conscious.”

“Seeing her in that condition, is what has upset you so?”

“No, Mother. I couldn’t see her at first. She was concealed behind protective gear.”

“Her face too?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, well, I knew you could not be annoyed seeing her face. The child has quite a pleasing countenance.” She waited for him to agree or comment. When he did neither, she continued. “What was it about the incident you found disturbing?” She watched his expression darken. “Darling, she is all right, you know.”

He flapped a hand at her, as if her conjecture were a swarm of gnats. “No. You miss the point.”

“Perhaps you could enlighten me.” She was annoyed by this sparring. “Jessica would be miserable if she thought her behavior had added to your burden.” The dowager crossed the room, moved a straight chair to position it directly in front of his and sat.

As soon as she was settled, he leaped to his feet and resumed pacing. “The glimpse I had enabled me to reach her. I fumbled to remove the protective mask to facilitate her breathing.”

“I see.”

“Yes, well, then I unlaced and removed the breastplate.”

“Was she properly clothed beneath the protective pad?”

“Of course. She is not a wanton, for heaven’s sake.”

Baffled by this even-tempered son’s mounting agitation, Lady Anne held her tongue. Obviously he needed to get this out and seemed to be mincing his way toward it.

“Then what happened?” she prodded.

“My sight failed. I intended to listen to her heartbeat. That was the reason I … ” He stopped pacing and stared at nothing with his sightless eyes, before turning to face his mother.

“Is Jessica … well is she … ah … unusually well-developed for a female her age?”

She was so relieved, she suddenly felt like laughing. Instead, the dowager pressed her handkerchief to her mouth to muffle any telltale sound. So that was what was troubling him. Finally, he had discovered the truth: that Jessica was not the hatchling he had assumed, but was instead, as the girl herself so often declared, “a woman grown.” The revelation was one Devlin was not prepared to face. The dowager had wondered when and how this discovery might occur, yet now that it had, she hardly knew what to say.

Candor was probably best. “How old do you believe Jessica to be?”

“I thought her a child of ten or eleven at first, as I told you. Later I thought perhaps as old as thirteen.”

“Devlin, Jessica told you she was a grown woman.”

“Yes, but I thought she was putting on airs. Her interests — her devotion to her hens, for heaven’s sake — marked her as a person of tender years.”

“Her naiveté provided your conclusion?”

“It was convincing enough, but add to that her behavior. She mounted and rode a strange stallion — astride, mind you. She crawled through brambles, slithered on her belly, to find me. She devised ways to cope with me and persist, in spite of my own obstinacy.” A smile played at his mouth as he detailed Jessica’s efforts. “No mature woman of my acquaintance would have attempted any of that.”

He began pacing again, head bowed, hands locked behind his back. “Once I was on Vindicator, she bid me farewell as if she were glad to be rid of me. I could not allow her simply to go trudging off afoot, unrewarded, but I had a devil of a time convincing her. She resisted, but I had the impression she was frightened, perhaps of being abandoned alone in the dark. Besides my own reluctance to leave, Vindicator refused to budge without her.

“When I finally had enough of bickering, I ordered her to ride. My assumption that she was a child was confirmed when I grasped her wrist to haul her into the saddle. It was like lifting a bag of thistle down.”

As if he thought his description demeaned Jessica, his voice grew earnest. “She was strong, but sinewy. I even commented about her being built more like a young lad than a girl.”

Again he paused before he continued. “How old is she, Mother?”

Lady Anne lowered her tone to match his. “She looks to be the eighteen years she claims, Devlin, just as she told you.”

Devlin raked both hands into his thick hair and gave an agonized groan. “I thought she was pretending, just as she played at being competent to order me about. I made her vow to stay with me until my sight returned. Sometime during my delirium, I entertained your very thought, that I should make her my ward and provide for her until some unfortunate knave took her off my hands.”

“If it’s a knave you want to marry her to, Devlin, why not the one to whom she is already betrothed?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

The dowager was drawing insights. Devlin Miracle, the Twelfth Duke of Fornay, with little knowledge of innocent, unsophisticated females, wanted to take custody of this one. He wanted to make her part of his family, establish her in society, provide a respectable dowry, and find her a proper husband.

At Jessica’s age, she was no waif. She was a woman whose reputation might be sullied by association with an unmarried gentleman. Lady Anne did not speak her thoughts.

“Her reputation is not ruined for rescuing you.”

“How about spending the night in my arms, unchaperoned?”

“On a horse? For the time required to return an injured man to his home? For attending your wounds? If anything, the reputation of a scullery maid would be enhanced by reports of her courageous efforts on your behalf that night.”

He stopped pacing and considered his mother’s words. Since she had him reevaluating, Lady Anne continued.

“Devlin, I want her to stay. I want to spoil her just as badly as you do.”

“I made an agreement, Madam. Gave her my word. As soon as my sight returns — returned — I am, was, to pay her five hundred pounds and provide safe passage home.”

“Darling, we cannot allow that dear creature to go back to Swelter.”

“Welter, Mother. The village where she comes from is Welter, not Swelter.”

Lady Anne dismissed his correction with a wave. “Since Jessica has been with us, I have served as incontrovertible chaperone. Because I have always been aware of her age and of your regard for her, I have made a plan. We will announce that she is a cousin whose family is on hard times. We shall host a ball, a closed affair with carefully selected guests, to introduce her. We shall do it soon, while so many are out of town. We might make a fine match for her in some lesser family.”

“Wed her to some dolt? Absolutely not. Jessica shall have no less than a baron.” He frowned. “He must be a man schooled as a gentleman.” His shoulders slumped. “That was perhaps a better possibility before today.”

“What transpired today to change things?”