The Devil's Gift

by Laura Landon

  Jenna waited for Maggie to expound on her enthusiastic warning. When she didn’t explain, Jenna prompted her. “Well, why shouldn’t we meet the carriage?”

  “Because...”

  Maggie worried her lower lip and fidgeted nervously.

  “Well?” Jenna repeated, beginning to lose her patience. “You said we shouldn’t meet the carriage. What did you see in your vision that warned you away?”

  “It was a... a...”

  “A what?”

  “A...”

  “Yes?” Jenna said louder.

  “A monster!”

  Jenna’s jaw dropped and she was unable to say anything.

  Now that she’d said the word, Maggie rushed on as if she needed to defend her unbelievable vision. “The carriage stopped and you ran to meet it like you always do. But this time when you opened the door, it was a monster that stepped out instead of a lass like usual.”

  “A monster,” Jenna repeated, trying to digest this latest revelation.

  “Yes, Miss.”

  “What did this monster look like?” Jenna asked trying as hard as she could not to laugh. It was evident from the lack of color in Maggie’s face that she truly believed her vision.

  “It was dark so I couldna see him clear, but he was ever so fierce lookin’.”

  “He?” Jenna asked.

  “Yes, Miss Jenna. It was a he. And he was powerful big.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes!” Maggie stepped away from the corner and enthusiastically extended her arms. “His shoulders were nigh on this big,” she said, holding out her arms as far as they would reach. “And he had to bend nearly in half to step out of the carriage door, he was so tall. I’ve never seen such a giant.”

  “Was he handsome?” Jenna couldn’t help but ask, thinking that Maggie would see the humor in her question and it would lighten the mood. She didn’t.

  “It was dark and I could na see,” she answered seriously. “But I do na think so. I’ve never heard that he is,” she finished, clutching the brass cross she always wore around her neck.

  “Who never is?”

  “The divvil, Miss. It was a divvil-monster that stepped down from the carriage.”

  Jenna almost burst out laughing. One look at Maggie’s face, though, stopped her. The girl was deadly serious.

  “Now, Maggie. You can’t believe it was a devil. Or a monster.”

  “Can’t I, Miss? I know what I saw. There was a divvil ridin’ in that carriage.”

  Jenna tried to think how best to resolve this dilemma without Maggie thinking she was laughing at her. “Do you think we should take Benton with us?” Jenna asked as solemnly as she could. “For protection, I mean?”

  “You’re going to go? Even after my vision?”

  “Oh, yes. I must. If it’s truly a monster, I can’t let some unsuspecting soul be caught unawares.”

  “But you could be killed.”

  “Benton will protect me.”

  Maggie worried her bottom lip again, then lifted her chin. There was such a determined look on her face Jenna almost laughed.

  “I’ll go with you,” she said confidently. “But we’ll na take Benton. The wee man’s afraid of his own shadow.”

  Jenna did laugh then. Benton was the Kingston butler, and had been Jenna’s guardian more than once. Except, he was neither wee, nor was he afraid of his shadow.

  Jenna guessed Benton was close to seven and thirty, nearly six feet tall and broad-shouldered. He exhibited an impressive strength Jenna had seen demonstrated when he’d helped lift a chest two workmen had been unable to move.

  Jenna had no idea where Benton had come from or what he’d done before he showed up at Kingston Manor and from the scar that ran from his left eyebrow to below his left ear, she thought perhaps it just as well she didn’t ask. He came seeking employment shortly after she’d begun her mission to rescue wayward street girls and his arrival had been a blessing in disguise.

  The first time they’d met, she knew he was someone she could trust. In the two years since, Benton had proved her right over and over. He was an invaluable part of her scheme and she wasn’t ashamed to admit how grateful she was to have him.

  Maggie surely realized how necessary Benton was in assisting them—only she refused to admit it. In fact, Maggie resisted everything about Benton, which was too bad. Because if the two would stop arguing long enough to take note of what was happening between them, they would realize they each had a fiery attraction to the other.

  If only Maggie would stop daring him to trust every vision she had. Which she would not do. Instead, she demanded total belief in her gift. Which Benton could not give her.

  And if only Benton would keep his doubts concerning Maggie’s visions to himself. Which he would not do. Instead, he continually demanded she admit that there was at least a chance of error in some of her visions. Which Maggie would not do.

  So, each time Maggie related a new vision, Benton became her most vocal critic.

  After considering Maggie’s demand that Benton not accompany them tonight, she decided that might be wise. Since this was one of the most far-fetched visions Maggie had ever had, Benton was sure to cause a row before they even left the yard. Jenna could hear his skeptical remarks already. She could almost hear him laugh when Maggie told him about this latest vision.

  And, she could hear Maggie’s fiery retort.

  Yes, Jenna agreed it was best if Benton remained behind.

  “Are you sure you don’t want Benton to come along?”

  “I’m sure, Miss.”

  “Then run ahead and bring MaryJane down the back stairs. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  “Yes, Miss,” Maggie said, rushing toward the door. She stole a glance down both sides of the hallway to make sure no one was coming, then quietly left the room.

  When she was gone, Jenna put on her cloak and gathered the bundle she’d wrapped for MaryJane to give to Aunt Chloe. When she was certain the hallway was clear in both directions, she softly latched the door behind her and tiptoed down the hall.

  She didn’t know why she was so worried her stepmother might hear her since her rooms were in the other wing of the house. But she couldn’t take a chance. Her stepmother and Aunt Chloe were bitter enemies, and if her stepmother discovered what Jenna was doing, a war would break out between them—with Jenna caught in the middle.

  Jenna stole down the back stairs, then down the short hall and into the kitchen. Maggie was waiting near the door with MaryJane.

  And Benton.

  “We don’t need your help,” Jenna heard Maggie say to the butler, who already had on his hat and coat and looked as if he’d been waiting for them.

  “I’ll want the mistress to tell me that before I let three women traipse out into the dark alone.”

  Maggie propped her fists on her hips and glared at the butler. “The mistress told me and I’m telling you. That should be word enough.”

  “Well, it’s not.”

  “Good evening, Benton,” Jenna said, stopping the discussion before it turned into a shouting match that woke the whole house.

  “Good evening, Miss. Is the girl ready to go?” he said.

  Jenna looked at a terrified MaryJane. “Yes, but—”

  “Good,” he interrupted, reaching for the latch on the kitchen door. “I’ve been waiting for you. The carriage should be here any minute. I wouldn’t think of letting you go out unescorted, so you’ll save a lot of time by not asking.”

  “Like you could fight off any attackers,” Maggie whispered, loud enough for Benton to hear her.

  “I doubt I have to worry about anyone attacking you, Miss Maggie, since no one who knows you is likely to bother with you. It’s the other ladies I’m concerned for.”

  From the glare in Maggie’s eyes and the grin on Benton’s face, he’d achieved his intended reaction. Jenna knew she had to stop their sparring now or she’d have an all-out war.

  “We’d best be going, then,�
� she said, wrapping her arm around MaryJane’s shoulder and ushering her to the door. “If we don’t hurry we’ll be late. And the driver knows not to wait for us more than five minutes.”

  Jenna pushed MaryJane out the door ahead of her and let Maggie and Benton struggle behind her in their attempt to avoid each other. The faster she made her way to the assigned meeting place, the less opportunity the two would have to squabble. And the less chance there’d be that they’d awaken some of the household’s lighter sleepers.

  Except, the faster Jenna rushed toward the waiting carriage, the quicker she thought she might be rushing into danger.

  Jenna couldn’t erase Maggie’s prediction from her mind. She couldn’t remove the vision of the devil-monster Maggie had described. Of course, Jenna didn’t believe there was actually such a thing, or that something so fierce would be waiting inside her aunt’s carriage, but the night and the dark and the owl in the tree did have its way with one’s imagination.

  Jenna tried to keep her heart from racing inside her chest. Maggie’s visions had an uncanny knack for being accurate more times than not. What if there was something out there waiting for them? It wouldn’t be a monster or a devil. Jenna’s practical side told her that. But it didn’t mean Maggie hadn’t envisioned a danger awaiting them. And Jenna trusted in Maggie’s visions enough to know to be on the alert.

  With a slowness to her steps she couldn’t afford if she didn’t want to be late, Jenna made her way around the side of the house. When she reached the corner, she turned onto the path that led through the vegetable garden that was Cook’s pride and joy, then ducked through a small opening she’d cut into the hedgerow two years earlier when she’d taken in her first girl. She emerged into an open meadow on the other side.

  Although it would have been shorter, she didn’t cross the meadow for fear someone from the manor would see them, but stayed in the shadows along the hedgerow until they reached a small grove of trees.

  The trees provided shelter from the brisk north wind and Jenna led her small party over the weeds and grass that two years of walking upon had stomped to a semi-smooth path. When they came to the clearing, Jenna stopped and looked to the right.

  Her aunt’s carriage sat in the shadows where it usually waited, and Jenna felt a rush of relief that was quickly followed by a wave of trepidation.

  What if some danger did await them?

  “Is something wrong, Miss Jenna?”

  Jenna started at the sound of Benton’s voice and realized she’d stood on the edge of the clearing for longer than necessary.

  “N...no,” she stuttered, then turned her gaze to where Maggie stood a few feet behind Benton. There was terror written on her maid’s face.

  “I don’t see the driver,” Benton said moving his gaze from the carriage, to Maggie, then back to Jenna. “Would you like me to go first to make sure everything’s all right?”

  Jenna wanted to shout that was exactly what she wanted Benton to do, but she knew how ridiculous it would sound. Besides, the panicked look on Maggie’s face told Jenna her maid would rather take a bullet through the heart than have Benton find out why Jenna was afraid to approach the carriage. Or open the carriage door.

  “No, Benton. I was just thinking. Come, MaryJane,” Jenna said, taking her first step toward the carriage.

  And the monster.

  Jenna led the way over the familiar path toward the carriage but the closer she got, the slower her feet seemed to move. She looked around, searching for the driver, but he was nowhere to be found.

  Maybe the monster had killed him.

  Jenna gave herself a mental shake and forced one foot in front of the other.

  “I don’t see Higgins,” Benton said, stepping in front of Jenna and stopping her with an outstretched hand. “You and Maggie and the girl stay here while I see what’s happened to him.”

  His demand seemed logical enough and Jenna was only too glad to let someone else go ahead.

  “See,” Maggie whispered in Jenna’s ear when Benton was far enough away not to hear. “It’s already killed Higgins. The minute the monster goes after Benton, you grab the girl and run back to the house.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jenna asked, unable to believe this was happening. She couldn’t breathe. Her hands trembled, and it was all she could do to keep her knees from buckling beneath her.

  “I’ll be helping Benton. Somebody’s got to make sure the fool doesn’t get kilt.”

  Jenna kept her eyes focused on Benton as he walked closer to the carriage. She clutched MaryJane’s hand in hers and half turned so if Maggie yelled the warning she was ready to begin her escape.

  Just as she was about to run back to the house, Higgins—Aunt Chloe’s regular driver—stepped out from the grove of trees.

  “Where the devil have you been, man?” Benton asked, his voice containing a shortness of temper Jenna had never observed in the mild-mannered butler.

  “That should be plain, Benton. I got needs no different ’n you.”

  There was no devil. The driver had gone into the trees to relieve himself. No monster had attacked him. There was no danger. The whole thing had been a figment of Maggie’s imagination.

  Jenna felt her cheeks burn and she spun around to glare at Maggie. “You and I are going to have a talk when we get back,” Jenna said, pulling MaryJane along behind her as she stomped toward the carriage.

  “Is everything all right here?” Benton asked the driver as they approached.

  “’Course, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just that you’re usually here when we arrive and when you weren’t...”

  “I already explained about that. Besides, I was just gettin’ ready to leave. The mistress said to wait five minutes and if no one showed, to come back. That meant the girl needed more time.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Higgins,” Jenna said, reaching the carriage. “It’s my fault. It took me longer than usual to get ready tonight.”

  “That’s all right, Miss. Everything worked out. But we’d best get going before we’re spotted.”

  Jenna gave MaryJane a quick hug, then handed her the small bundle. “The cloth and the letter are for my aunt. Please, give them to her. The coins are yours. Best of luck, MaryJane.”

  “Oh, Miss. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  The young girl threw herself into Jenna’s arms and hugged her again.

  “Have a good life, MaryJane,” she said when they separated. “Knowing you’re happy is thanks enough.”

  Jenna and MaryJane took a step to the carriage as Benton opened the door. MaryJane looked up, stepped back, then let out the most blood-curdling scream Jenna had ever heard. Only Maggie’s scream held more terror.

  Jenna’s heart leaped to her throat and Benton reacted with a speed that was hard to imagine in someone of his build. With an outstretched hand, he pushed both Jenna and MaryJane behind him and pulled out a pistol Jenna didn’t know he owned, let alone carried.

  Jenna clutched her hand to her breast to stop her racing heart and lifted her gaze...

  ...to look into the face of the devil incarnate.

  THE DEVIL’S GIFT by Laura Landon

  Chapter 2

  It was all Jenna could do to keep from snatching MaryJane’s hand and racing back to the manor house. Maggie’s vision of a devil-monster towered in vivid clarity above them, as huge and menacing as she’d said he’d be. Jenna knew before he attempted to descend that when he reached the ground he’d be at least a head taller than she.

  Benton was the only person she had to compare him to and although she knew this stranger was without a doubt taller than their butler, he was also more broad-shouldered.

  He looked to be about ten years younger than Benton, and Jenna doubted he’d as yet reached his thirtieth year. He was as dark and raven-haired as she imagined the devil to be, and the frown on his face as foreboding. But there was a sharpness in his gaze; an intelligence in his eyes that said he knew a secre
t he had no intention of divulging.

  Everything about him was exactly as Maggie had described, except...

  Maggie had said the devil in her vision wasn’t handsome.

  Something beneath her breastbone shifted. The man standing before her was most remarkably handsome.

  “Step down out of that carriage,” Benton said, still holding the pistol in his outstretched hand.

  Jenna moved back to join Maggie and MaryJane, who’d already separated themselves from any possible danger.

  The stranger raised his hands in a submissive gesture and descended.

  His movements were marvelously smooth and Jenna was startled by how swiftly he reached the ground. She was inexplicably mesmerized by his grace and she didn’t want to look away.

  The moon was full, a detail Aunt Chloe always took into account to give the driver better vision on the road. Its light gave off a silvery glow that illumined the area with a shimmering brilliance. And it highlighted for Jenna something other than the stranger’s physical features.

  His clothes were tattered, the collar of his shabby black jacket frayed beyond redemption. His faded black trousers were threadbare and worn at the knees, and had obviously been made for a man not nearly as tall nor as muscular as he was. Even the boots on his feet had holes in the scuffed leather where a light morning dew would soak through and dampen his socks.

  The man was obviously destitute. But regardless of his lack of resources, he didn’t seem desperate. The slight lift of his chin and the critical look in his eyes made her think he was judging them far more than they were judging him.

  From his shabby appearance, Jenna wouldn’t have been surprised to see a broken man—a man crushed under the weight of living in poverty and despair.

  Instead, she saw a proud man—a man whose intelligent gaze contradicted the ragged condition of his clothing. A man whose demeanor spoke of someone used to living in a far different world than his appearance suggested.

  Jenna experienced an overwhelming rush of delight that the stranger hadn’t been defeated by life’s hardships. That he seemed to possess the will to fight. To live. And she felt an intense kinship with him—a connection that startled her.