Ladies of Deception 03 - Betraying the Highwayman
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When her tears had abated somewhat, he gently guided her to his carriage, anxious to be alone with her so they could talk, so he could find out the reason behind her heartache, but also anxious to remove her from the prying eyes of the public.
Elenore blindly followed him inside his carriage, sitting dejectedly on the seat next to him. Once more, he pulled her tightly to his chest, his long fingers stroking her face then neck in a soothing manner.
“Can you tell me what is wrong?” he gently pried, anxious to know what was causing her such grief and sincerely hoping it wasn't him. He felt her jaw clench and unclench against his chest, as she struggled to keep her emotions at bay. He was patient, waiting for her to speak when she felt like she was ready.
“My brother was killed in the war,” she finally spurted out. It hurt just as bad to say it as it had to read it, and she wondered if the pain would ever cease.
His grip on her tightened, “Oh El, I'm so sorry.”
“He was the only person left who loved me,” she sobbed.
Devon's heart clenched inside his chest. He wished he could take her pain upon himself, to suffer on her behalf so she wouldn't have to. Instead he chose to be truthful with her, with himself. “That's not true—I love you.”
Elenore's head snapped up, her watery brown eyes wide in surprise. “But I lied to you. I hurt you...how could you?”
“That's true, you did,” he answered honestly. “Why did you do it? Why did you lie to me? Why didn't you tell me the truth about who you were when you found out I was Black Lightening?”
Elenore didn't feel as if she had the emotional stamina to endure such a conversation, but she knew it wouldn't be fair to Devon to leave his questions unanswered. “I thought about it Devon, honestly I did, but the consequences of you finding out were too much to bear. You would have forced me to come back to London, and I wouldn't have been able to go to my aunt. You don't understand because this is where you belong, this is where your family is, but it's not home to me, and I'm lonely here.” Her voice cracked and his heart broke. “I thought that maybe if I could get to my aunt I would feel as if I belonged. I had hoped it would ease my loneliness to be around somebody who loved me and wanted me, to share my life with family.”
The sadness in her voice tugged at Devon's heartstrings. He had no idea she felt the way she did. He wondered how it would be if he had no family, and he could begin to understand some of her sadness. His heart began to thaw towards her. Pulling her into his arms he couldn't help but ask, “Do you really think you'd be happier in America?”
“I don't know, but I do know that staying here and having you hate me forever would kill me.”
“Oh sweet, Elenore, I don't hate you. I never hated you. What I hate is how I spent so much time consumed by guilt, feeling as if I had done something wrong, and you never once were honest with me when you knew you could have alleviated that burden.”
“For what it's worth, I had decided I was going to tell you the night of Lord Grayson's dinner party, when I realized how much I had come to care for you. But you were so disappointed when we couldn't find your father's money. You had finally agreed that you would need to marry for money, and I knew then that I couldn't tell you. My dowry is so small. It would never have helped your financial position and I knew then that you couldn't be with me.”
He was beginning to understand more fully the dilemma she had struggled with. “If you had told me that you returned my feelings I wouldn't have hesitated to marry you, large dowry or no. I've never wanted an arranged marriage. I just felt like it was my last resort.”
Elenore looked at him sadly, her wet eyelashes kissing her cheeks as she blinked rapidly in an attempt to fight back another onslaught of tears. “And now you have one.”
“Don't you see.” He grabbed her forcefully, pulling her face close to his face. “I wanted you. I still want you, but I don't want you like this. I don't want you to be forced to be my wife, to regret our union for the rest of your days. I wanted you to come willingly, because you love me.”
Could it be true? She searched his face, his creamy brown eyes intently searching her own. “Oh Devon,” she sighed. “I do love you. I love you so much that I didn't want you to be married to me out of obligation. I wanted you to be happy.”
His heart soared at her declaration. “You love me?” he asked, needing to hear the words from her lips once more to reassure him that it was true.
“I do, for quite some time now. I'm sorry I was too scared to tell you the truth.”
He bent his head, needing to feel her lips on his own. The kiss was tender and bespoke of emotions long suppressed but just freshly voiced. He nuzzled into her neck, kissing a trail of whisper-soft kisses along the trail of tears that had run down her throat. It felt so good to kiss her with only the deep emotion of love consuming him, the warring guilt that had previously been present during their romantic encounters noticeably absent.
She reached forward, placing her hands along his jaw and pulling his face up to hers. She planted sweet, searing kisses along his jaw before returning to taste his chiseled lips, perfectly formed and pressing madly against hers. It amazed her that she could feel such extreme emotions at the same time—an all consuming grief and an even more overpowering sense of love and belonging.
Pulling back from his addicting lips, she kept her face close as she whispered a confession that was troubling her, “It feels so odd to be alone, to have no one to call family.”
“You're my family now. You'll never be alone.”
“Do you mean that?” She asked hopefully, searching his eyes for the truth.
“With all my heart,” he confessed huskily as he took her lips captive once more, showing her just how serious he was.
Epilogue
Wednesday, July 13, 1814
Elenore awoke with a start, pulling the covers up to her chin as she struggled to make out what had caused the noise that had startled her from her peaceful slumber. She rolled over to feel for Devon and became alarmed when her hands met the cold cotton of the sheets. Where could he have gone?
Ever since their wedding day, six days prior, he had come to her chambers nightly where they could enjoy each other’s company and share in the love that was continuing to grow and blossom between them as only a husband and wife could. Though she still mourned Paul's loss and the pain was still acute, her budding relationship with Devon went far in helping her repair her wounded heart. She had been filled with a satisfaction and deep rooted peace knowing that she had her own family now, one that, God willing, would never leave her alone.
The duke had insisted, that because of the circumstances regarding Paul's death, she and Devon not wait for the customary two weeks while the banns were being published, instead purchasing a common license that allowed them to be married within the week. They had talked amongst themselves and decided she would forgo the observance of the customary mourning period, seeing as how she had spent the previous year in mourning her parents. And, since Paul's death was already four months past, they agreed it wasn't necessary for her to observe the custom, insisting, to her relief, that she go through with the wedding to Devon as previously planned.
Turning on her side, she swung her legs over the side of the mattress, deciding that she would go look for Devon and see where he had gotten off to, knowing she'd never return to her peaceful slumber without him by her side. Just as her feet hit the cold planks of the wooden floor, she saw a shadowy movement rustling the drapes. She gasped in shock as a lone figure entered spryly through the window, her body frozen in fear.
Her brain told her she should scream but her throat felt paralyzed, refusing to cooperate. The man turned towards her, his silhouette illuminated by the bright summer moon. He was dressed in black riding breeches that were tucked into the top of his black riding boots. His shirt was stark white, the collar open in a V revealing a hard, tanned chest. Tied around his face was a black mask and atop his head sat a worn black tricorn hat.
He took slow, deliberate steps in her direction, never saying a word. Though she knew she was looking at Black Lightening, she couldn't help but wonder if her eyes were deceiving her. As he neared the bed, he leaned forward and with expert precision and speed scooped her off the mattress and cradled her in his arms.
Elenore let out a shriek. “Devon what are you doing?”
“I'm not Devon. I'm Black Lightening, and I've come to steal you away.” Elenore's body relaxed at the sound of his voice, being reassured that it truly was her husband went a long way in settling her nerves.
Reaching up to toy with the hair on his exposed chest, she lowered her eyelashes seductively, “So dangerous and attractive. I hope my husband doesn't find out.”
Devon growled lowly, “Where I'm taking you, he'll never find us.”
Elenore laughed. “And pray tell, where are you taking me?”
Devon refused to answer. “You'll find out shortly, I promise.”
Reaching the window, he reluctantly lowered her to the ground. “I'm tempted to make you escape in your nightdress, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be proper. Put this on.” He handed her one of her simple day dresses, followed by a pair of kid slippers.
Elenore eagerly did as he was told, anxious to know what he was up to, excitement coursing through her veins. He watched her change in silence, and she wished he didn't have the mask on so she could see his face, see the smile she was sure was present.
As soon as she was changed, he lifted one booted foot and propped it on the window sill. “I'm going to go first. As soon as I'm on the ground, I want you to jump.”
Elenore took a step back. “I'm not jumping out of the window,” she said in alarm.
“Where's your sense of adventure? I'll catch you, I promise.” Without waiting for her to respond, he hoisted himself out the window and leapt to the ground below. Elenore watched in horror, but as soon as he stood and she could see that he was fine, she relaxed. That is, until he called out, “It's your turn.”
She cautiously balanced herself on the sill, pulling her dress up and around her legs in an immodest fashion. She made the mistake of looking at the ground below and was tempted to scurry back into the room. “Are you sure I can't just go down the stairs and meet you?”
“That would ruin the adventure,” came the reply. “I'll never let you fall. Now hurry.”
Elenore glanced down at him one last time before closing her eyes and leaping. Just as he had promised, his strong arms caught her, holding onto her tightly, as if he was loath to let her go. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair, his warm breath curling into her ear, causing her to shiver involuntarily. Every nerve was taut with awareness as she tilted her head up so her lips could meet his.
Before she could enjoy the soft press of his perfect lips, she had to reach up and untie the mask from his face, letting it fall to the ground, as she became distracted by the promise of his kiss. Every kiss they shared seemed to awaken a new part of her being. It was as if she became more and more alive each time their lips met, his love revitalizing her soul. He reluctantly pulled his mouth from hers. “We need to be on our way.”
She asked him once more where they were going, but he ignored her as he carried her across the grass to the waiting carriage. Elenore looked up in surprise, wondering how he had convinced his driver to take them about in the wee hours of the night. As soon as the carriage began to roll, Devon reached for Elenore, scooping her into his lap and nuzzling into her neck, her hair, inhaling the scent that was uniquely hers.
“Can you tell me where we are going now?” she asked lazily, enjoying his displays of affection almost to the point of distraction.
“We're going to America.”
Snapping out of the passion-induced trance she was in, she cried, “You can't be serious,” as she pulled back to analyze his face. Even in the dark she could tell his brown eyes were twinkling with excitement.
“I never had the chance to tell you that I booked your passage to America. I was coming to tell you the day my father informed me of your disappearance and we found you in the cottage. I'm a man of my word, and I kept my end of our bargain.”
Still dumbfounded she spoke, “But you there's no need for me to go now.”
“Yes there is,” he insisted. “I want you to find your aunt. I want you to have the opportunity to live one of your dreams of setting your feet on America. I want to make you happy.”
Elenore threw her arms around his neck. Holding tightly, she proclaimed, “You already have.”
About The Author
Ginny Hartman has always loved writing, and when her love for the regency era blossomed, she decided to combine the two, resulting in her first published novel, Deceiving the Duke of Kerrington, which became an Amazon Historical Romance bestseller.
Ginny's favorite thing about writing is the escape it gives her and the people who read her stories. For a behind the scenes look at the creation of Deceiving the Duke of Kerrington, Misleading Lord Martineau, and Betraying the Highwayman, as well as a sneak peek at her upcoming projects, visit her website www.creatingromance.blogspot.com
Besides writing, Ginny enjoys reading and spending time with her favorite people: her husband and three beautiful children. She also enjoys traveling the world with her husband and gaining inspiration for her books. She currently resides in Northern Idaho.