Ladies of Deception 03 - Betraying the Highwayman

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Ladies of Deception 03 - Betraying the Highwayman Page 17

by Ginny Hartman


  “Splendid, actually. You'll always have a scar, but it's nothing too ghastly.”

  “That's a relief.” Devon wasn't sure if he imagined it or not, but it seemed as if Sister Genevieve was just as hesitant to remove her hands from his arm as he was for having her do so.

  Finally, she pulled back and he reluctantly pulled his shirt over his head to make them both more comfortable. “I know you have done a lot for me, but I have another favor to ask of you, a big one.”

  “Please do not tell me you have more sick relatives that need nursing. I'm not certain my sanity could handle that.”

  Devon chuckled. “No, it's nothing quite as deplorable as that. I need you to escort me to a dinner party.”

  Sister Genevieve scooted back from him, shaking her head furiously. “No, I cannot do that...I'm a nun. It's not proper. Besides, you wouldn't want to show up with a nun in tow anyhow.”

  “You're right,” he said and watched as she exhaled in relief. “I don't want a nun to escort me, but I do need a beautiful lady to do so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I need you to escort me dressed as a lady. One of the men who has won a significant amount of my father's money has invited me to attend a dinner party at his residence. It's the perfect opportunity to search for the missing money or at least try to find out what he might have done with it.”

  Sister Genevieve surprised him by laughing. “You can't just go into somebody's house and start looking for money. And what would you do if, by chance, you found it, stuff it into your pocket and walk away? This is a ridiculous plan.”

  “No that's not what I plan to do. I need you to go with me so I can distract the host while you take a look around. I know the exact amount of money that he won, so I'll need you to look for that amount or anything that might indicate what he did with it.”

  “I still don't think it's a very wise plan.”

  Devon's shoulders sagged. “I know, but it's the only one I've got. It may not be worth much, but I have a hunch that there's more going on with this man than he's letting on. All I'm asking is one evening of your life. I would do it myself, but I can't just leave the party for any length of time without raising suspicion. You, on the other hand, could excuse yourself to see to some personal needs and nobody would question your absence. Please, I need your help with this.”

  “Devon, I've already given you nearly two months of my life when we previously agreed to only one.”

  “I know, but you must believe me when I say I'm working on it. I would have had your trip all arranged if it hadn't been for the accident,” he said, indicating his arm.

  “I apologize, but there is no way I can do it.”

  Devon leaned forward, grabbing both of her hands in his, his eyes pleading with her to assist him in his endeavor. “Sister Genevieve, I would not ask you to do this if there was any other way. You are the only person who can help me because you are the only person who knows of my identity as Black Lightening. If there was anyone else I could ask, I would. I hate putting you in the vexing position of posing as somebody you are not, but I need to find that money if I can. My father is threatening to arrange my marriage to a lady with a large dowry, if I do not chose a wife soon, and there's no one that I wish to bind my life too. I need to buy myself more time, and the only way I can think to appease my father is by recouping some of his money. I will do anything if you will agree to help me.”

  Sister Genevieve was thoughtful for a moment. “It's impossible for me to imagine agreeing to this plan. Is there no one you can see aligning your life with?”

  Devon's brown eyes filled with pain. “The only person that I want won't have me.”

  “Devon, that's not fair. It's not you. I've told you that my calling is to go to America. I've already explained to you that I cannot leave my current ministry. It just isn't done.”

  “I know,” he said with sadness. “But please, I need your help. Isn't there anything I can do for you in return, anyway I can convince you to help?”

  Ignoring his question she asked, “Is this dinner party to be held in London?”

  “Yes, at Lord Grayson's residence.”

  “And who all will be in attendance?”

  “The invitation said it's a small, intimate party. Lord Grayson and his wife, of course, will be there, his friend, Lord Trent who supposedly has some profitable investment opportunities to share, and myself. My father is invited, as well, but there is no way I'm letting him anywhere near London.”

  “Is that all the people who will be attending?” She had to know if anyone she knew would be there. If there was any way she'd be recognized, she couldn't agree to help him.

  “Yes, as far as I know.”

  “And if I agree to go with you, what would I wear? Surely you don't want me to show up dressed in this?”

  Devon's eyes wandered over her habit. “Of course not. I will make sure you have something suitable to wear. Are you agreeing to go?”

  “Not yet.” She leaned back into the couch and nibbled on her bottom lip. Devon hated the way he became distracted by the motion, but he couldn't find enough self restraint to look away.

  When she turned to look at him, her eyebrows were furrowed together in concern. “I'm not convinced it's wise for me to go to London and play a lady. What if...what if somebody doesn't believe me?” What she really wanted to ask is, what if somebody recognized her. She knew the chances were slim, seeing as how she had only resided in London for a short time, but all it would take is one person to recognize her to ruin her plan of fleeing to America completely.

  Devon leaned into her, cupping her face with one hand. It was a gesture meant to comfort her, but his palm tingled at the contact. “I wouldn't ask you to do something I didn't believe would work. You hold yourself well, and I believe you can do anything you set your mind to. I'm only asking for you to pretend to be a lady for a few short hours, not an entire lifetime. We'll be in it together. Please.”

  Watching his pleading, brown eyes, she felt her resolve slip. It was so hard for her to tell him no. Finally she sighed. “Fine, I'll do it.”

  Devon's face lit up as he smiled. “Thank you.”

  “But,” she interjected, “there is something you can do for me in exchange.”

  “Anything,” he agreed.

  Sister Genevieve rose from the couch. “Wait right here. I'll be back momentarily.”

  Devon sat waiting, relieved that she had agreed to help him. He didn't know what he would have done had she not agreed to his plan. He wished he could have been as persuasive at getting her to leave her life as a nun behind and give up her dreams to go to America, but he refused to dwell on that right now and let it sour his mood for the rest of the evening.

  It didn't take long for Sister Genevieve to return, and when she did, she sat next to him and thrust out one hand towards him. Devon cautiously reached his hand forward, palm face up and waited as she poured the contents of her hand into his. He pulled back his hand and held up the necklace in front of his face. It was a dainty yet elegant necklace featuring many small diamonds that angled down to form a V.

  Devon looked at her curiously, one eyebrow raised. “What would you like me to do with this?”

  “It was my grandmother's necklace. I need you to sell it for me so I can have some funds to live off once I reach America.”

  Devon looked at what he was sure was a sentimental family heirloom, before glancing back at her. “I can't do that. This belongs with you. It belongs in your family.”

  Sister Genevieve sighed. “I've already thought things through, and you have agreed to do whatever I asked. The money will be much more valuable to me than the jewels, once I start my new life. Please do as I ask.”

  Devon hesitated before sliding the necklace into his pocket. “Very well, if that's what you wish.”

  “Yes,” came her simple response.

  “Then we have ourselves a deal. The dinner party is in a week. I will get everything prepared and th
ink everything through before we go. Rest assured that everything will work out just fine.”

  Sister Genevieve's only response was a nod.

  Chapter 23

  Sunday, June 26, 1814

  Elenore sat on the edge of her bed wringing her hands in nervous anticipation. Devon had instructed her to inform Charlotte first thing that morning that she was ill so that his father wouldn't expect her to care for him for the day. Fortunately, it seemed as if she had been successful in convincing the girl that she was truly unwell and nobody had disturbed her any further.

  Truthfully, she was anticipating an entire day free of Lord Brat, but she was much too nervous about the possibility of somebody recognizing her in London that she didn't know if she'd be able to enjoy herself.

  A soft knocking sounded on the door and Elenore bolted up off the bed. She had been anticipating Devon's arrival for some time now. As soon as she opened the door, Devon slipped in hurriedly, shutting the door behind him. “Are you ready to leave for London?”

  Elenore shrugged. “I suppose.”

  Devon reached out and placed both hands on her shoulders, crouching down just enough so that he could look directly into her eyes. “Everything will be fine. My father will never know you are gone.”

  “I know,” she muttered without any real conviction.

  “Now listen closely because we need to be on our way. I will meet you at the cottage in a quarter of an hour. If you leave right after I do that should give you just enough time to get there. I'll go to the stables, get Calvin, and meet you there. We will have to share the horse but we've managed before, so I don't foresee a problem. As soon as we arrive in London, I'll let you off somewhere discreet not far from my townhouse with instructions on how to get there. You will then meet me at the rear of the house where we can discreetly enter. My sister has several gowns in her old room, so I will find something suitable for you to wear. We'll inform everyone that you are my cousin on my mother's side and have come to London for a brief visit. Is everything clear?”

  Elenore swallowed hard, trying to process all of the information. “Yes, I understand.”

  “Excellent. Give me a few minutes head start before you leave,” he instructed as he quickly slipped from the room.

  Elenore watched the clock tick by several long minutes before she decided it was time for her to go. She carefully stuck her head out the door, ensuring that the coast was clear, before slipping quietly into the hall. Her heart beat frantically as she raced down the stairs and from the house, making sure to go through the rarely-used dining room and leave from a set of French doors on the back of the house that opened up to the veranda. As soon as she was free from the house, she felt her heart begin to slows it's erratic pace, grateful that nobody had seen her. She lifted the hem of her robe and raced across the wide expanse of lawn towards the abandoned cottage she had visited only once—the night she had returned Devon's Black Lightening clothes.

  She must not have hurried as fast as she thought because she and Devon met at the cottage at nearly the same time. He slid from atop Calvin and assisted her into the saddle, before climbing behind her without uttering a single word. The feel of his lean body behind her brought back many memories from the first day she had encountered Black Lightening and been brought to Westbrooke Hall. She watched as his arms slid around her to grasp the reins and couldn't help the flutters that exploded in her stomach at his nearness. She wished there was something for her to grip on, as he took off in a gallop, being conscious of not clinging to his thighs as she had that first day.

  The ride into London was long, and though she had hoped to sleep part of the way to pass the time, her awareness of Devon's nearness prevented her from doing so. She could feel his hard chest on her back, and instantly, images of that hard bare chest would pop into her mind, heating her cheeks. For the millionth time she wished that things could have been different between them, that she would have had the opportunity to meet him before she had decided to create an assured scandal by running away from the duke, before she had committed to herself that she would go to America and start a new life and find her aunt, some of the only family she had remaining. His nearness was tormenting her, and she wondered if it was affecting him as well.

  It was with great relief that they finally arrived in London. He helped her down from Calvin, before giving her directions to his townhouse. She was relieved that he had chosen to deposit her at a location only about a block from his home. She watched him leave before heading in the direction he had given her. Elenore walked along the street, careful to keep her head downcast so her veil could fall forward and hide her face. She was tempted to look at the carriages and men on horseback that were passing her by, but she reminded herself of the risk it would entail if she saw somebody she knew.

  Part of her wanted to laugh at her overcautious reaction—of all the people in London, what would be the odds of her running into one of the select few she knew? Regardless, it wasn't a risk she was willing to take, so she fought the temptation to take in her surroundings and left her head down.

  When she reached Devon's townhouse, she didn't have to wait long before he waltzed out of the stable and came to stand next to her. He pushed the door open and scanned the room, before instructing her to follow him. Though they were constantly on guard that somebody might catch them, she had to admit that the fear of being caught only heightened the adventure.

  She followed Devon quickly and silently all the way into the house and up to the second floor where the bedrooms were located. When he pushed a door open, she obediently followed him inside.

  As soon as the door was shut, she spoke. “It's miraculous that we made it all the way up here without encountering a single servant. Truthfully, I wasn't sure it could be done.”

  “That's because I've had to cut back on the household help significantly since my father's addiction increased. Funny now how that has proved to be a blessing.”

  Elenore smiled at Devon, “There's always a silver lining.”

  “I suppose. I'm going to go find you a dress. Then I'll speak with one of the maids about helping you dress your hair.”

  As soon as Devon left, Elenore looked around the room. It was clearly meant for guests, with no personal belongings to be found. She curiously opened each drawer in a chest of drawers, only to find that they were all empty. Peering her head into the closet she found that it too was empty. She wondered when the last time the room had been occupied. When she had finished snooping around, she walked to the window and parted the drapes so she could look down on the busy street below. It might very well be the last time she ever had the opportunity to be in London, to enjoy the hustle and bustle of the city. She wondered if she would miss it once she got to America or if she'd much rather prefer the new country. She wondered how Boston would compare to London and wished she had somebody to ask.

  Her musings were interrupted when Devon returned, a pale pink gown draped over his arm. He walked towards where she was standing and held the dress up for her to see. It was delicately feminine, made with pink satin, featuring a pale, sheer-lace overlay. She reached out and gently touched the fabric. The dresses that the duke had provided for her coming out had been beautiful, albeit simple as befitting a debutante, but this dress was exquisite.

  Devon watched her examine the dress before he spoke. “Will this do?”

  “Of course,” she replied breathlessly. “It's the most beautiful gown I've ever seen.”

  His handsome face broke out into a pleased grin. “I'm glad you approve. Now as soon as I leave, you need to remove your nun's clothing and hide it in one of these drawers. I'll have a maid sent up shortly to assist you with your dress and hair.”

  “Thank you,” she replied politely.

  “No, thank you.” He responded sincerely, before once more slipping out of the room.

  ***

  Devon waited eagerly in the parlor for Sister Genevieve to appear. He was incredibly anxious to see how she would loo
k all dressed up and ready for the party. He had seen her the one time in the stables without her nun's habit and was desperately trying to brace himself for how he'd react to her appearance. He took a drink of his scotch then looked up expectantly as the maid walked into the room.

  “Where is my cousin?” he inquired, confused when Sister Genevieve didn't enter the room as well.

  “There seems to be a slight problem. Your cousin sent me to fetch you. She refuses to leave the room.”

  Devon grew alarmed. Walking towards the door, he handed the maid his unfinished glass of scotch, as he passed. He hurried up to the room he had left her in, taking the stairs two at a time, his mind racing with possibilities of what could be wrong. He tapped lightly on the door, before entering the room uninvited, his eyes searching for Sister Genevieve. He inhaled sharply when he found her standing next to the window, the setting sun causing a brilliant glow to illuminate her person. She looked breathtaking. The pale pink dress was the perfect color for her, just as he thought it would be. He took a step towards her and watched as she flung her arms up to cover her chest.

  “What is the matter?” he asked.

  “I cannot go out looking like this,” she exclaimed frantically. “Did you say this dress belonged to your sister?”

  Devon stepped closer. “Yes, though I must admit, I much prefer it on you.”

  His eyes roamed over her whole body, causing goose pimples to appear on her flesh, his eyes darkening with desire. He had tried to anticipate what she would look like, bracing himself for the temptation, but none of his imaginings had done her justice. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her lips had been painted with a tinted lip salve that made them all the more tantalizing to Devon. Her thick hair was piled in curls on the top of her head, with ringlets framing her face, causing her eyes to appear wider and more alluring than normal. His eyes dropped to the tiny baby hairs at the nape of her neck, and he couldn't resist the urge to reach up and feel their softness.

 

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