Only one thing kept her from simply packing her things and returning to Effie. Marina. The child still needed her. In the few days she’d been there, Marina had begun to open up. Where before she’d said nothing, the child had begun to utter small phrases and to answer questions, though not with any real consistency. Still, it was progress, and if she left, it would not only cease but the child could potentially regress. At that point, not only would her coming there have been a waste, she would actually have caused harm to the child. It would be an unforgivable sin.
Willa was in an untenable position. She could not stay under Lord Deveril’s roof and resist him. She hadn’t the strength. And her behavior, going into his chambers, had been courting disaster. She’d known it and had done so anyway, using his injury as an excuse to be close to him, to flout convention for a moment. Seeing him there, shirtless, in such an intimate setting, had weakened her already tremulous resolve and she had fallen, quite willingly, into his arms. On that score, he was absolutely correct. But what woman could resist him?
Truly, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen with his dark, chiseled visage and sardonic wit. More than that, there was a hint of vulnerability in him. At times, he failed to hide that part of himself, and she could glimpse the pain of his father’s rejection, the guilt he suffered for the terrible tragedy that had befallen his sister and his resolve to do better by his sister’s child. It was those things that made him truly irresistible to her. It was also those things that made him a danger to her. Falling prey to his naturally seductive nature was bad enough, but the rest of it endangered far more than her virtue. He was not a man to whom she could ever risk giving her heart. It would be returned to her in shattered pieces no matter his intentions.
It occurred to her that she’d been very fortunate to be a student at Effie’s school. It had given her an unparalleled education and an opportunity to have suitable employment without facing the pitfalls so many young governesses did. As a general rule, Effie vetted all prospective employers of her students very carefully. The rather impetuous decisions that had resulted in her now being employed in such a scandalous house was quite out of character for them both.
But her time at the Darrow School had also sheltered her significantly. She knew all about the dangers of men, at least in a very abstract sense. But she’d had no opportunity to learn about the dangers of temptation. That was something she was ill-equipped to handle. Clearly there was a wildness and a recklessness inside her that had not been accounted for.
“It cannot happen again,” she murmured aloud. “Whatever is required, whatever I must do, it cannot and will not happen again. My duty is to help that child. Not to fulfill his desires or my own.”
Uttering that statement offered her momentary strength. She had no idea how that self-imposed edict would be maintained but, for the moment, it helped her to remember both her purpose and her place. It was a sham engagement. Whatever her feelings for him or about him, she needed to remember that at all costs. It wasn’t only her reputation at stake, after all. Her feelings for him were complicated at best and far too tender for her peace of mind.
Crossing the room to the delicately carved dressing table, one of the many fine pieces of furniture that graced the suite of rooms she’d been given, Willa seated herself there and surveyed her reflection critically. The high color in her cheeks, her swollen lips, and the wild mane of hair that fell over her shoulders made her look as wanton as she had felt in those moments in his arms.
There was no denying the truth she saw there. Things had escalated quickly and heaven knew he’d taken liberties, but none she hadn’t given freely. The very instant she’d protested, he’d halted. But while she was a virgin, she was not so innocent that she hadn’t understood what the firmness of his body pressed against hers signified. His passions had been aroused and, yet, at no point in time had he taken more than she’d been willing to give, nor had he encouraged her to reciprocate the pleasure he’d been lavishing upon her. With the distance of the corridor and several chambers between them, Willa could admit that she’d been perfectly safe with him. She might not have left there untouched by him, but given what she knew of his reputation, his intent had not been to relieve her of her virtue. He’d been in control the entire time. The Devil Lord himself had preserved her innocence on that occasion, for she’d have given it to him for the asking. It was a lowering thought. But honesty, even with herself, was a necessity. Lying to herself, hiding from the truth, would only leave her vulnerable to her own fallible nature.
With more force than was necessary, Willa began to brush her hair. It was as if taming the mass of wild curls and restoring some semblance of order would somehow erase the past half-hour. When the task was complete, she carefully braided the heavy mass as tightly as possible and then pinned it securely back from her face. The style would flatter no one. It was the quintessential look for a plain spinster or a governess and a stark reminder of precisely who and what she was in the grand scheme of things.
*
Jeannette knew to the second when Miss Marks had left her nephew’s chamber. Whatever she might have said to the contrary, she had not retreated to her chambers at all but had remained close by to monitor the situation. Lurking in a nearby room, she watched, waited, and listened. The last thing she needed was for Devil to be taken in by some gutter-born doxy who’d managed to convincingly put on airs. She was dependent on his charity, after all, and the one thing wives always managed to do was to convince their husbands to curb their generosity to relatives not their own.
If Devil married, she’d likely be cut off without so much as a tuppence, or expected to exist in a kind of penury that was worse than death to her. No servants, no new gowns, constantly dodging creditors! She was barely avoiding that existence already. Of course, it was her own fault to some degree. She’d spent too much, saved too little, and often failed to pay her debts. Invariably, Douglas had covered them for her without complaint and was much more agreeable about it than her late brother had been. But a wife would alter that, she was certain. Then there was the other matter… the parentage of the little urchin he’d foisted upon the family.
Gossip bandied about that she was his bastard would ruin the family. Not that siring a bastard was such a terrible thing. Most gentlemen did, after all. No, it was bringing her into the home and making her part of the legitimate family! They would never recover from such. They would have been far better off if the child had perished in the rookery where he found her. She was naught but a burden to everyone, both Devil and her dear, dear Alaric. It was unfortunate that Alaric had failed to retrieve her that afternoon with the information she’d provided to him. Another opportunity would have to be engineered, and that would not be easy. Devil would be on guard. More so than ever, and Miss Marks was now confined to the house because Devil was so concerned for her well-being. If there was any doubt that the phony betrothal bore a threat of becoming a legitimate one, it was the degree of her nephew’s concern.
The child wasn’t the only one who would need to be eliminated, Jeannette decided. Miss Marks would simply have to go.
Chapter Eighteen
He hadn’t been sleeping. Thoughts of Wilhelmina Marks had kept him from it. From the very moment she’d entered his home, he’d recognized that there was something different about her. She was singularly pragmatic, not in the least impressed by his station, his looks, or his reputation. Her opinions were offered freely and usually cast him in a dim light. Yet she was not unkind. Nothing she’d said of him was untrue or especially scathing. Perhaps that was why it stung so deeply. Had she been offering vitriol and recriminations, he could easily have ignored her as he did all others who spoke against him in such a way. But she was simply unfailingly honest and not at all swayed by his position or any of the charms that had worked so well on others. Not that he’d been overly generous in being charming to her. In fact, he’d rather been an ass. He found her prickly responses were far too satisfying not to be inv
oked frequently.
It had been a novelty at first, a woman who wasn’t looking to cuckold her husband in a rogue’s bed or, worse still, reform him through the venerable institution of marriage. Those thoughts led him deeper down that path. What would a woman like Willa expect in a marriage? Fidelity to be sure. She’d brook no nonsense on that front. She’d likely expect to marry for love. And romantic love, in his opinion, was hardly more than a tactic of seduction. It was simply a word that people uttered to make their dirty deeds seem less so. There was something, if not admirable, then at least understandable in succumbing to love. But succumbing solely to lust was simply a weakness of character, or so society would have everyone believe.
In short, their viewpoints would likely be diametrically opposed. Night and day. Black and white. Heaven and hell. There was little doubt in his mind that he’d make a miserable husband and, no doubt, any woman unfortunate enough to call herself his wife would be steeped in regret for the rest of her days. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of their “betrothal”. They’d not gone out in society. They’d not announced anything. If the truth were told, no one likely even realized who she was, what her role—real or fictional—was in his household, unless his servants had been gossiping. There was not a single reason to suspect that he would ever have to actually do the honorable thing by her, despite their earlier encounter.
But never in his life had he more fervently wished to have been caught in a damning situation. Had his aunt, who was clearly a terrible failure at being a chaperone, stumbled upon them in such a passionate embrace, there would have been nothing for it but to offer for her in truth. And yet his aunt had made herself scarce at his own insistence.
Turning over in his bed, Devil slammed his fist into the pillow. That small bit of temper actually made him feel better and so he did it again. But as he closed his eyes to will himself to sleep and forget the erstwhile and shockingly buttoned up temptress who was tormenting his every thought, a scream rent the darkness. It was Marina.
The nursery was not far from his own chambers. Though he suspected his presence would not comfort her, getting up to check on her appeased his own restlessness. Clad in breeches and only his shirt, Devil padded down the hall toward the child’s room. When he arrived, the door was already open. He could hear Willa inside, murmuring softly to the little girl. After a moment, the child’s cries subsided and he heard the soft, lilting notes of a lullaby. He stood there, listening to that sweet sound.
Such comfort and care was foreign to him. His own mother had died giving birth to Alice, and their home as children had been a cold place. Their father had never permitted such tenderness from their governesses toward them. In fact, their nurses and governesses had often been cruel and indifferent and had been hired for just that reason. Was it any wonder that Alice had been so vulnerable to West’s advances? She’d lived her entire life without even a hint of love or affection and, false or not, the bastard had promised her that.
The singing from inside the nursery became softer and softer, the sound fading slowly into silence. A moment later, with Marina settled once more in her bed, Willa emerged from the girl’s room wearing her nightrail and a velvet wrapper. When she saw him, she stopped immediately, her expression wary. It was an intimate thing, chance meetings in the hall while both were dressed for bed. Even as the thought occurred to him, she tugged her wrapper more tightly about her, but that only served to emphasize just how little covered her body beneath it.
“I’ve no intention of pouncing on you like a ravenous beast, Willa. You’re safe enough in my presence,” he said, and while his tone was soft, there was a bite to his words. He didn’t like the notion of her fearing him. For perhaps the first time in his life, he wanted to be the hero rather than the wastrel villain.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she answered. “I was simply startled by your presence.”
Somewhat mollified by her answer, he commented, “I heard Marina crying out. Is she well?”
“It was only a dream. She has them frequently… I think they feature Mr. West though she has yet to tell me why. She is very afraid of him. She did say to me today, in the midst of all our other events this afternoon, that he is her father.”
“I’ve believed him to be all along, though he hardly deserves the title.”
Willa nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. My own father is absent and unfeeling, but he certainly never went out of his way to be cruel. I suppose that is a point in his favor.”
“No it isn’t,” Devil said. “Because he certainly never bestirred himself to halt anyone else’s cruelty, did he?”
She glanced up then, her gaze locking on his for a moment. It left them both breathless, before she abruptly looked away. “No, I suppose he didn’t. And you’re right. It doesn’t make him a better or worse man than West. They are just terrible in different ways. To that end, I think it isn’t just Marina that West was cruel to. I think he was also very cruel to Alice, abusive even. And I’m very certain that Marina saw the worst of it.”
Devil’s jaw clenched. “I think it likely.” And Alice would have tolerated it because their father had been just as vicious and cruel. How many times had he struck them? How many times had he locked them in their rooms? Alice, bless her, had continued trying to please the man up until West had come into her life. For himself, Devil had given up long before and had done everything he could to deserve the displeasure his father had heaped on him all along.
Willa nodded. “I believe that is the source of her fear and why she is so cautious with men. But until she begins to speak more, it’s simply a guess.”
“She needs you,” he said. “I don’t understand how or why your presence has made such a difference to her. But in only a short number of days, she’s made more progress with you than in the entire time she was here before.”
“We understand each other,’ Willa answered softly.
Her head cocked to one side and her blonde braid slipped over her shoulder, drawing his eye to slender column of her throat.
“And why is that?” Devil asked. Despite the temptation she presented, or perhaps because of it, he was reluctant to see her go. He craved her presence. Not her body, not the pleasure they could find with one another, though heaven knew he wanted that as well. Perhaps it wasn’t only Marina who needed her.
Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug as she shook her head thoughtfully. “We are alike in many ways, I suppose. Illegitimate. Fathers who are unfeeling at best, who viewed us as an inconvenience. She has seen the worst of mankind at a very early age.”
“And you did as well?”
She paused for a moment as if considering whether or not to answer. Finally, after a moment, she met his gaze very directly. “Yes. I was living in a terrible place with my mother. She’d had an offer from a gentleman to become her protector, but not with me in tow. She deposited me on the doorstep to my father’s bachelor abode and told him he could tend to me himself or sell me to an abbess. Then she walked away.”
It was not what he’d expected her to say. She’d offered that explanation as a challenge, as if she were daring him to challenge his exalted position or her lowly one. “I’m sorry for that, sorry that those who should have cared for you failed to do so.”
Her lips pursed in a frown, clearly not expecting his answer to have been so lacking in judgement of her. “It wasn’t so terrible, not all the time, at any rate. My father put me in a school that was a terrible and cruel place. Lillian, my half-sister, was already there. That was where Effie found us. She couldn’t abide the way we were treated. We were her first students… the very reason she founded her school. I was very happy there with her. Effie is the kindest person I know, but she is no one’s fool. I don’t think there is anyone whom I admire so much, and whom I aspire so much to be like.”
“You inspire aspiration yourself, Willa. Far more so than you realize,” he whispered.
They stood there in the corridor, silent for the longest time, watchi
ng one another. Both wary and painfully aware. The moment grew, stretching, becoming charged with the same tension that had exploded into passion between them earlier.
Finally, she spoke. “I should go. Goodnight, Lord Deveril.”
Devil reached out, catching her wrist as she walked past. The idea that had been floating around the periphery of his mind since that heated exchange earlier in the evening reared its head again. It was a radical notion, something that he’d thought would never occur to him. And yet it had. In fact, the thought of it had been circling relentlessly. He could not let her pass without saying it. “I’ve watched you with Marina, Willa. You’re not a woman who will be content to only love the children of others. Do you not want a family and home of your own?”
Her gaze was focused on his hand still clasped about her wrist. His hold was gentle, one she could easily break free of with the slightest of effort. Yet she did not. Instead, she stopped there, looking back at him over her shoulder. “I’ve never given it a thought. The unfortunate consequence of my education at the Darrow School is that I think of myself as a lady while I know, to my shame, that others will not. No gentleman would have the bastard daughter of a notorious rake, one who had worked as a governess no less, as his wife.”
“There are gentlemen who would,” Devil protested. Then he said something he would never have imagined uttering in a thousand years. “In fact, there is no reason why our sham of an engagement could not become a real one.”
She laughed softly. “There is a reason, my lord. A man of your standing could not marry a woman like me!”
His hand slipped from her wrist to capture her hand, twining their fingers together in the darkness. “I have courted scandal all of my life, Willa. Why should my choice of bride be any different?”
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