By the time Ian reached the fifth or sixth driver, the passengers from the ship were swarming across the pier and he was shoved aside. When the noise and activities settled down again, he was left alone with his headache. Ian shaded his eyes and peered up the hill toward the distant rise where he knew his estate stood.
It was going to be a long walk home.
Chapter 37
Cecily woke and found Devin propped up on one elbow next to her. A crooked grin spread across his face and Cecily couldn’t help but smile too.
“How long have you been watching me?”
“Not nearly long enough,” he answered softly. “I still can’t believe you are here.”
Cecily’s smile widened. Devin always seemed to know the right thing to say, or do, to make any situation better. He caressed her cheek. His light touch sent a ripple of goose bumps flowing down her back. She shivered.
“Cold?”
She shook her head. She was anything but cold. Cold had been living with Ian, desperately trying to fill every hour from one day to the next, month after month, year after year with something, anything to keep her from feeling so numb.
And yet in one passionate, crazy, lust-filled, wanton night, Devin had rekindled the fire inside her and she felt truly alive again. Each sensation flared crisply in her mind, each sound, each taste. Everything seemed sharper. Her body sizzled from his simple, tantalizing touch. Even her mind felt awake again, as if the hazy fog of her stagnant life had lifted revealing a bright, colorful new world, a world she hoped included Devin again. She sucked in a quick breath. Could she allow herself to dream that dream?
Everything was moving so fast. Cecily sat up and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. Her life had become similarly knotted. She was tied to a man who did not love her. He had been unfaithful and . . . a twinge of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. Her brow furrowed. Ian had been unfaithful first, she reasoned, she wasn’t doing anything wrong. At least, nothing Ian hadn’t done wrong first!
“Something troubling you, my dear?”
“Can you show me Ian’s other warehouse?” Cecily blurted out. “The one where he beds his whores.”
She hadn’t intended on asking him that first, but perhaps if she saw the warehouse her conscience would be put at ease.
Devin studied her for a moment, his violet eyes seeming to penetrate her very soul. “Yes, of course.” He rolled out of bed and disappeared into his adjoining closet. “I can show it to you right now.”
“Now?” Cecily glanced out the opened balcony door. The first hint of rose painted the soft underbellies of the clouds clustered along the distant horizon. What was that little proverb, ‘red sky in morning . . .’ She couldn’t remember the rest. “It’s rather early, isn’t it?”
Devin appeared in the doorway, pulling on a pair of blue trousers and offered her a reassuring smile. “The sooner the better.” He disappeared again. “You are worried you have acted too hastily.”
“No . . .” Cecily protested weakly.
“You forget I know you, my dear. I know what those furrows mean.”
Cecily rubbed at the lines on her forehead. Devin had penetrated her thoughts and had read them correctly. She had never been ‘in love’ with Ian, but up until yesterday, she had at least believed he was an honorable man. The guilt was . . . what? Ingrained?
“Devin, I’m sorry.”
He reappeared again with a white silk shirt in his hands. “For what?”
“I don’t want you to think I regret last night.”
“Cecily, my dear, I was thinking nothing of the kind.” He shrugged into his shirt and pulled it down over his wide chest. “But come. Dress. They are terribly out of fashion, I’m sure, but I do have a few of your old gowns still hanging in the back of my closet here. The sooner you see the proof of Ian’s deceit, the sooner we can ease that guilty conscience.”
“You are not mad?”
Devin laughed merrily. “Of course not, my dear, I could never be cross with you.” He gestured for her to rise. “Come along now. Put yourself together while I go downstairs and procure a carriage.”
He gave her a long, passionate kiss. Cecily was tempted to pull him back into bed, but he broke from her embrace and grinned. “Hurry, now. There will be plenty of time for that later.” He swept out of the room before she could object.
A short time later, she and Devin were riding eastward toward the docks. Devin insisted they keep the curtains drawn even though it made the interior of the carriage warm. If they were seen together at this early hour, he explained, rumors would swirl throughout the city and by nightfall, a simple carriage ride would have turned into a lewd affair.
Cecily reflected on the irony.
“But what about the driver?” she asked, as they drew near the docks. “Won’t he talk?”
“He is paid well to keep quiet.”
Cecily gave him a sidelong glance. “And have there been many of these types of secretive rides? Ones he’s had to be quieted about?”
“None. No one has been beside me since you left.”
“You mean,” Cecily swallowed hard, “for all these years, you haven’t . . .”
A bit of blush touched Devin’s cheeks. “I told you once, a long time ago, you were the only woman for me.” He wrapped his hand around hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “That still holds true today.”
Cecily couldn’t breathe. He had remained celibate for all those years, just for her!
Devin excused himself and leaned out the window. “Driver, park over there.”
Cecily composed herself. “Are we here?”
Devin parted the dark curtain a fraction. “That’s his warehouse.”
Cecily leaned across him and peered out the window. A cacophony of noise and a pungent blend of odors assaulted her awakened senses, but the harshest of either and the one that brought tears to her eyes, was the stench of decaying fish.
“Where?” She coughed and covered her delicate nose with the back of her hand.
He pointed. A tall, whitewashed warehouse stood proudly among the other buildings on the block and despite the distance she picked out the familiar black emblem painted on the door.
“The Weatherall Dragon,” she whispered.
“Does this satisfy you? Is your conscience clear now?”
“I want to go inside. I want to see the cargo. If the crates are there, then . . .”
The warehouse door burst open and a dark-haired Gyunwarian woman rushed out. She wore a tattered blue dress which she hiked up in one hand while she ran.
“Is that one of Ian’s-?” Cecily began, but her question stuck in her throat when Ian appeared at the door next. He stopped just outside the building, cringing, shielding his eyes from the early morning sun. His clothes were also torn and tattered and his black hair was an unruly, unkempt mess.
The Gyunwarian woman raced past their carriage. Cecily gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “What did he do to her?” She turned to Devin. “Did you see all those bruises?”
Devin nodded. “I’m so sorry Cecily. I had no idea we would see him with one of his whores. He has never . . .” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “. . . beaten you like that, has he?”
“Thank the gods above, no!” Cecily glared at Ian. How could he hide such a monstrous nature? The twinge of guilt she’d felt earlier for making love to Devin immediately disappeared. Ian was an animal. The sooner she was rid of him the better.
“Let us confront him now!” She reached for the door. “I wish to-”
“Cecily, no.” Devin stopped her. “Have you forgotten our plan?”
Cecily hesitated. Devin was right. Confronting Ian here, now, would not be as effective as confronting him in the royal courts, in front of her entire family and the other noble lords and ladies. News of his fraud and infidelity would spread throughout the country like an untamed fire, burning away any support Ian might find among the people. She resumed her seat, deep in thought. If she bided
her time and played the role of a helpless innocent, she might just gain the freedom she had previously found so elusive and perhaps even the love of her people again.
She peered out the window. Ian straightened his ragged clothes and began walking toward them.
“Devin!” She shrank back in the seat. “We can’t let him see us together!”
“Driver! Take us home!” Devin called out.
The carriage lurched forward and began its climb up the narrow cobblestone road toward the city. Cecily turned around and peeked out the curtained rear window. Ian approached the next carriage in line and was clearly turned away. She wasn’t surprised. He looked like a vile, dirty Gyunwarian vagrant.
“Devin?”
“Yes, my dear?”
She leaned against his broad shoulder. “I want to be free of him.”
“I know.”
“Soon.” She paused. “Immediately.”
“Patience . . .” His jaw tightened. “I need to-”
“Are you sure you can help me?”
“Of course.”
She entwined her arms around his, delighted by his thick muscular biceps. “Do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“Tell me,” she whispered, her ruby lips curling into a triumphant smile. “Let me hear you say the words.”
He leaned in and brought his warm mouth close to her ear. “I love you.”
“Enough to see this through to the end?”
“Yes.” He straightened a bit in his seat. “But you must do as I say, without hesitation, without remorse,” he paused, and she looked at him waiting for him to continue, “without any more guilt.”
“I will, Devin, I swear,” she said solemnly, and she sealed it with a kiss. “Without any more guilt.”
“Then I promise I will do everything in my power to set you free.”
Cecily sighed and melted back into his arms. “It will take years,” she said, allowing a pinch of helplessness to flavor her words. “Even with your help.”
“Oh, I think it will be sooner than that.” He glanced out the window and Cecily saw a smile touch the corners of his mouth. “Trust me.”
A warm feeling settled over her like a cozy blanket and she snuggled into his side. Devin wrapped one of his large arms around her and pulled her close. Thoughts of Ian faded as they rode in silence back toward his estate. He hadn’t asked her if she wanted to return home, he simply knew she did not. Cecily liked that about him. Devin knew without asking what she wanted, needed . . .
Desired.
As soon as the mahogany front doors had closed, Devin whirled around, caught her and pressed her up against them. His velvet lips left a moist trail of kisses from her mouth to behind her ear and down her neck to the hollow spot next to her collarbone. Her head lolled to one side. A slight moan escaped her lips. She clung to him and pulled him closer. His fingers deftly worked the buttons down the back of her dress and as he freed her from the snug bodice his lips slid further down her body until he captured one of her hardened nipples between his teeth. His tongue flicked across the tip and he bit down lightly on her tender flesh. She gasped at the tingling pain and her breath caught in her throat. She threw her head back and found herself staring up at the glass chandelier. The hundreds of flickering candle lights seemed dim now compared to the bright light shining inside her. That’s what his kisses did to her. It took away the shadows and turned her into light.
He pulled her dress and undergarments all the way down her body leaving them pooled around her ankles. She felt a bit naughty standing in his foyer wearing nothing but her little white boots, but that only heightened her pleasure. Goose bumps rose across her creamy pale skin. The thrill of maybe getting caught . . .
He released her nipple and knelt in front of her.
“Oh, Devin!”
He buried his face between her legs. His lips found her lips. His tongue swabbed over her mound, flicking lightly, darted inside, came back out and swirled over her tiny hood. Her eyes rolled up and her knees weakened. Gods he hadn’t forgotten how she liked to be kissed!
She forgot everything for a while. Her entire world centered on the pleasure he was giving her with his tongue, his mouth, his probing fingers. The light inside her grew brighter, warmer until she felt like the sun itself.
Her cries echoed throughout the foyer. She blinked, swallowed, struggled to catch her breath. The foyer came back into focus. The chandelier. The black and white marble floor. The arched hallway beyond with the rows of polished suits of armor. The wooden door across the way cracked open . . .
There was someone there. Watching. A hulking figure in the shadows. Her first instinct was to cover herself with her arms and scream, but then she recognized the observer and did neither. A hint of a smile played over her lips.
“Take me . . .” she whispered to Devin, her eyes on the door. “. . . Now!”
Devin stood, dropped his trousers, lifted her easily in his arms and swiftly pushed inside her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck and held on as he thrust up into her. Her backside banged into the mahogany door but her bouncing gaze never left the door across the way.
She hoped Amarias was enjoying the show.
An hour or so later, Devin rolled off her and onto his side of the bed. He had made love to her in the foyer, in the hallway with the suits of armor, up the long flight of stairs, out on the balcony beneath the hot sun and finally he had carried her across the room and had finished up in a flurry of hard thrusts which had rocked the entire bed. Her exhausted body tingled everywhere. Devin rose and ordered a hot bath drawn. Cecily delighted in the thought of spending more time with him, naked, in his huge tub, but when he began dressing, she frowned.
“You aren’t joining me?” she asked, rising from the bed. With feline grace, she slunk past him, knowing his eyes were following her swaying hips. When she reached the edge of the sunken tub, she dipped a toe past the floating rose petals and into the steaming water. A curl of heat rose up her naked calf and warmed her inner thigh like a moist tongue lapping at her tender pink skin. She glanced over her shoulder. “Devin?”
“I would love to continue this hedonistic day with you.” His face flushed with excitement. “But, I must meet with some pesky bankers. Business . . .”
Cecily pushed out her bottom lip in a mock pout. “Can’t they wait?”
“They have been waiting for hours already.” Devin’s violet eyes drifted down along the curves of her body as he approached her side. “Once my business is concluded, I promise, I’ll return and devote the rest of the day to your . . . Every. Possible. Need.” He punctuated each of the last few words with lingering kisses along the side of her neck.
Cecily shivered with delight. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Devin arched an eyebrow. “I never do.”
Chapter 38
Josephine ran past the row of carriages and fled into a narrow shadow-filled alley. Hiking the hem of her dress up freed her legs and she sprinted to the opposite end and ducked down a second to catch her breath. Zigzagging through the dock area in such a manner, she worked her way back south, away from Lord Ian’s warehouse, stopping only when her lungs ached, and her legs felt like molten lead. She leaned forward, hands on her knees, gasping for air and fought the urge to vomit. Hazarding a glance back the way she had come, she saw no sign of pursuit. She was alone.
Dropping beside a broken set of wooden stairs which led up to the rear of some tavern, Josephine struggled to regain control of her breath, her emotions, and her life. Stinging tears filled her eyes and she swiped them away with a corner of her dress. Her once beautiful dress. Now it was a tattered mess. Natham Lipscombe had insisted on ruining it. He had insisted on a lot of things last night . . .
It was just after midnight and Josephine had been waiting for hours in the dismal room above the warehouse. She paced the floor, eager to be done with whatever task she needed to complete to free her father. When heavy
footsteps sounded on the stairs though, her eagerness turned to fear. Who was climbing the stairs? The heavy and deliberate steps couldn’t belong to Lipscombe; he was rail thin. Who was making all that noise?
The door burst open. To her surprise, Lipscombe staggered into the room with a body thrown over his shoulder. “Lazy, good for nothin’ but screwin’ whore, why didn’tche open th’ damn door for me?” He tossed the man onto the floor by the window and straightened.
“Father?” Josephine ran to the man and turned him over. It was Lord Ian Weatherall.
“I swear they think I’m a damn draft horse,” Lipscombe muttered. He rolled his head back and forth cracking his neck and stretched his lanky arms skyward. “All I’ve been doin’ is haulin’ damn bodies ‘round all night long.”
“Where’s my father?”
“Yer daddy’s still breathin’ ‘nd as long as ye do as yer told, I’ll let him keep breathin’”
“I did what I was told, and you promised you’d let him-”
Lipscombe raised the back of his hand level with her face. “Shut yer hole, whore!”
“I’m not a whore.” The words were out before she could stop herself.
Lipscombe slapped her face. Hard. “Damned if I care two bits wha’ ye think ye is or ye ain’t.” His one good eye stared her down. The left twitched and sputtered around in its socket. “Ye’ll do as yer told or yer daddy won’t ever see the light o’day again, y’understand?”
Josephine nodded, tasting blood inside her mouth.
“Now as I sees it, we hav’ta make him,” Lipscombe pointed to Lord Ian, “think he done beat ‘nd raped ye.” A nasty little grin slunk across his face. “‘nd since he ain’t, shall we say, up to th’ task, I’ll hav’ta ‘fill in’, if ye know wha’ I mean.”
With speed she hadn’t thought possible by such a crudely put together man, Lipscombe tackled her to the floor.
“NO!” she cried out, fighting against his hands as he ripped her gown. “NO!” she screamed again, but he slugged her in the face stunning her. He laughed maniacally and yanked her dress up. She clawed at his face.
Stolen Dagger Page 16
