Hold Your Breath 01 - Stone Devil Duke

by K. J. Jackson

  No more. She had to steel herself, because she was on her own again.

  But first, she had to sit down. She wasn’t going to make it up the stairs at the moment.

  Aggie let herself sink to the second stair, thudding on the wood. She exhaled. Sitting was good. Lying would be even better.

  It would just be for a moment, just until she could get up and tackle the stairs. She leaned down on her side across the step, ignoring the pain the movement caused. Using her right arm as a pillow, she propped her back on the stair tread behind her. Blackness hit, and she welcomed it.

  Not sure how long she had been asleep, Aggie suddenly felt the sensation of being lifted. She cracked her eyes. Everything was still dark. But now she was moving up the stairs through no effort of her own.

  She turned her head upward. Devin’s eyes were on her, but in the dark, she couldn’t see what was in them.

  She offered a weak smile. Maybe he wasn’t done. Not done at all.

  She drifted back into darkness. Darkness that was safe. Darkness that held no dreams.

  { Chapter 14 }

  Aggie opened her eyes slowly, not quite sure where she was, or what had transpired. Then the pain hit, and her eyes flew open. She was greeted with darkness.

  In Devin’s bed, she turned her head to see the room. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the stairs. Wait. Devin carried her upstairs.

  “You are awake.” Devin’s gruff voice reached from the side of the bed.

  Head still deep in the pillow, she looked toward the sound of his voice, her eyes beginning to adjust to the darkness.

  “You are here.”

  “Yes.”

  His hand moved off her leg. She hadn’t noticed it was on there until the cold absence of its removal. Aggie pushed herself up onto her good elbow.

  “Does this mean you have reconsidered?”

  “I was hoping you would forget about our conversation in the library.”

  “I am not about to forget something so important. Devin, have you reconsidered?”

  “It is your choice, Aggie. If you would like to go back to London, I will make sure you are untouchable.”

  “My choice?”

  Devin nodded.

  “Then I choose here. Here with you. I am safest with you. There is not a part of me that doubts it.”

  Devin slid back in his chair, straightening. “Thank you for your confidence. I do not deserve it.”

  Aggie slumped back down into the soft bed, but she used her right hand to fluff the pillow to keep her head up as she kept her eyes on Devin. “I am not even going to argue that point, as it is a ridiculous statement.”

  “Not ridiculous as I see it.”

  Aggie’s voice turned soft in its sincerity. “Then you need to re-look, Devin. You have done nothing but earn my complete confidence. My very life—you are the only one I trust with it.”

  He gave a weary shrug. He wasn’t going to believe her.

  “Did your men find who was shooting at me?”

  “They did. There were two.” Devin’s eyes turned dark. “Hired. Neither one was of the same build as the leader.”

  “But can you be sure? You said you didn’t see the leader’s face, so maybe one of them—”

  “I saw their bodies myself, Aggie. Both were skinny and short. The leader was tall, burly. He wasn’t there.”

  “And they are dead? Did they say anything, have any clues with them?”

  Devin shook his head. “They were dead before any information could be extracted. Both had nothing except for guns and bullets on their bodies. I am sorry it did not turn into a lead.”

  Aggie closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath. Not another dead end. She was so sick of not being able to find the bastard. She just wanted to be able to stop thinking, stop worrying about him at every corner.

  After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked around the room. “Why is it so dark in here?”

  Devin looked up at the windows. “I had not noticed.”

  He stood from the bedside and went to open the thick blue velvet drapes. Sunlight streamed into the dark room full force. The room was huge, and in even in the light, dark. Dark browns, blacks and blues surrounded her—a dark cherry valet in the corner, a matching writing desk, wardrobe, and two sitting chairs dotted the room. The bed she was in was wide, framed by a lush, mahogany four-post bed. A man’s room. A man who felt extremely comfortable in the shadows.

  “How long have I been asleep?” Aggie asked, the fog in her mind beginning to lift.

  “Since falling asleep on the stairs?”

  “I did, didn’t I? I was only planning on resting for a moment.”

  “Yes, and you actually looked comfortable. You slept through yesterday and last night.”

  Aggie watched him look out the window. The sunlight revealed an unshaven, haggard-looking Devin. “When was the last time you slept?”

  A slight smile raised the corners of his hard mouth. “About the same amount of time.” He walked back to the bed and sat down by Aggie’s legs.

  Devin stared at her with a peculiar look on his face, a strange mix of relief, anger, and happiness, mixed in with something odd she couldn’t quite name. She wasn’t quite sure how to react to it.

  “I have sequestered Doctor Christianson in the guest quarters. He has been in every other hour to check on your progress, and he will be pleased to see you are awake. Are you hungry?”

  “Thirsty.” Aggie reached over to touch the bandage wrapped around her shoulder. It was tight and clean. “Have you seen it? Is it infected?”

  “I have. It looks good, and you have not had much of a fever.” Devin stood from the bed with a satisfied nod. “I will send the doctor in to check on you. Your eyes look bright, but I want you to stay in this bed for the next few days. I imagine Christianson will agree with me, so don’t try to convince him otherwise.”

  “You think I will not listen to you?”

  “I think you will think you are ready to move long before you actually are. Be patient. I want you healed. The doctor says you should be up and around within the next couple days. At which time, I will introduce you to the staff and show you about Stonewell.”

  Aggie’s teeth kept her tongue in place. There wasn’t much room to argue, and her slight poking at her shoulder had stung. Plus, unprovoked, he had just offered to show her about Stonewell. She might actually get some information from him about his life and childhood. She wanted to know Devin. Not just because he was her husband, because she liked him—liked him in the moments that weren’t filled with drama. Maybe she could hurry it a bit.

  She sat up. “If Doctor Christianson checks the wound and says I am healing fine, perhaps we could start my introductions to Stonewell this afternoon? I am feeling much better.” She offered up what she hoped was a beguiling smile.

  Devin laughed. “Good try, but no chance. That will not work on me, and it will not work on Christianson. You will rest today, and rest well. That is an order.”

  Aggie leaned back into the soft bed, giving a sigh, then grimaced as pain shot through her shoulder.

  “See, you need the rest.” He walked to the door. “When you can make a simple movement like that without agony crossing your face, you will be free.”

  Aggie groaned as Devin exited. His chuckle echoed back from the hallway.

  Would nothing get by that man?

  ~~~

  Apparently, no.

  Four times throughout the rest of the day, Aggie tried to escape the bed. Each time, Devin, exerting a peculiar sixth sense as to her whereabouts, caught her either with toe perched on the hallway floor trying to exit the room, or within two steps of the monstrous bed. Each time she was sternly ordered back to bed.

  Devin did take his dinner with Aggie in his room, and by the curious looks of the servants bringing in the food, table and chairs, Aggie guessed it was out of the norm for the household.

  Nonetheless, she was ecstatic at having his company, for he
was being more than pleasant to her. Which was more than welcome after their encounter in the library. Aggie still didn’t know what to make of his demand that they split. But as he had said no more on the matter, she hoped desperately it was just drunken ramblings and their conversation in the morning was the end of the matter.

  The next day was a repeat of the first, save for one exception. If Aggie promised to stop trying to escape the bed, Devin would allow Aggie out of the room to visit the library and to pick out some readings to pass time. She gladly snatched up the deal. Boredom was the entire reason she was trying to sneak out.

  At her first step into the vast room, Aggie gasped at what she hadn’t seen before in the dark. From floor to the two-story ceiling, all neatly arranged in mahogany bookcases, were thousands of books. No knickknacks or trinkets filling in empty spaces—there were no empty spaces to fill. This was a serious collection.

  Fat books, skinny books, new books, old books, and really, really old books that looked like they were going to fall apart if she breathed on them. Awestruck, but beaming at the wonder of it, she almost skipped into the center of the library. Which she would have done, had her shoulder allowed. Devin followed her, amusement plain on his face.

  “I take it by your reaction you enjoy a good read?”

  Aggie laughed. “Yes, I adore reading. Growing up, if I was not outside with Jason, I was inside with a book. How in the world did you amass a collection so large?”

  Devin pointed high into the shelves where it looked like a good portion of the ancient texts were grouped. “My ancestors were enthusiastic proponents of the written word. This collection has been growing for hundreds of years.”

  “Have you contributed many to the collection?” Aggie spun in a circle, taking in the scores of volumes about her.

  “Too many, I am afraid. It is a weakness.”

  “I am glad to finally have a flaw of yours flaunted.” She swept her hand around her. “Although I would hardly call this a flaw.”

  “It is a flaw in that we have run out of space. At this point, I am afraid I am faced with either going through the volumes, and putting some of them into storage, or knocking out a wall and expanding the library into the next room.”

  “Knock the wall out.”

  Devin laughed. “No question about it?”

  “None.”

  Aggie took in the enormity of the room once more. “Where do I even begin?”

  “Follow me.” Devin walked across the room over three dark-hued Oriental rugs with deep reds splashing into haunting greens, blues, and blacks in intricate patterns. “I had the collection cleaned and reorganized five years ago. It had become a slight nightmare with each generation having differing methods in categorization.”

  He stopped at the far right back corner of the library and pointed to a section at the very bottom of the bookcase, one column wide and three rows high. “This was my mother’s section. I am sure you will find something entertaining here.”

  Devin stepped back to let Aggie have a look. Aggie moved forward, tightening her pale green robe at her waist, and bent gingerly to her knees in front of the section.

  Aggie scanned the titles. Curiosity piqued as she contemplated the rows.

  “What was your mother like, Devin?” Aggie asked after a few moments, not turning around. It wasn’t an answer, but what she was seeing before her was giving her a possible clue as to why Devin had never spoken about his parents.

  “She was a mother.”

  Aggie looked over her shoulder up at Devin. His answer was curt. Too curt.

  “Yes, but what was she like as a person?”

  He stiffened. “I did not really know her well enough to answer that question.”

  “But you must have known a little bit about her. Was she happy? Sad? Content? Bitter? You must have been able to discern that much.”

  “No.”

  “But surely—”

  “Aggie, it is time for you to get back to bed, so either pick out some books, or you will just have to lie there bored.”

  Aggie glanced at the books in front of her, then back to Devin, ready for combat. But the look she saw on his face stopped her cold. Harsh. Murderous. The same look that surfaced just before he slit the throat of one of her attackers.

  She wasn’t afraid of the look. But she wasn’t about to make it worse, either. As much as it irked her to bow to his refusal to speak of his family, she also knew that his face just told her more about his mother, than he would ever actually speak.

  She was not going to let it go, not in the long term. But in that moment, she had to let it go. She hadn’t regained enough strength yet to fight what his face had already manifested.

  But at some point, she was going to find out why he was such an expert at avoiding conversation about his family.

  Aggie turned back to his mother’s section of the bookcase. As much as she enjoyed a good romantic novel in the line of Edgeworth or Scott, the few titles she recognized in this section were too risqué for her. They were the type of titles whispered about in the corners of drawing rooms—glorifying prostitution, torture, murder, debauchery. Aggie could only guess the few titles she had heard of were indicative of the rest of the section.

  Aggie randomly grabbed a thin one with a red spine and tucked it into her arm, not even looking at the title, and then stood to move onto other sections of the library.

  “Is that all you want?” Devin asked, nodding to the one book Aggie held in her arm.

  Her face crinkled. Did he really believe she would limit herself? Close-by, she spied a brass plate attached to the front of a shelf that said “Modern Philosophy” on it. Aggie brushed passed Devin to move along the wall, taking in all the brass plates and scanning titles. She passed by several sub-categories of philosophy, then on to history, mathematics, geography, poetry, engineering, and she was only a fourth of the way around the room.

  She pulled from several sections as she went, balancing the books in her good arm. When it became awkward to both pull books and hold them in her arm, she went over to the gleaming rosewood desk and set the stack down.

  “Done?” Devin walked over to the desk, flipping through her selections.

  Not answering, Aggie had already moved to a new section of the wall, poking through an area on the Tudor reign. Grabbing a few more titles, she went back to the desk and added them to the stack.

  Devin half-sat on the desk, waiting for her. “Done now?”

  “Yes, for now, this will do.” She slid the stack to the edge of the desk and started to struggle to get them into her good arm.

  “It is a nice selection.” Devin slipped his arm between Aggie and the stack, sweeping them up. He offered his other arm to her.

  Aggie took it and he led them out of the room. She looked back at the walls of books, not hiding her sadness at having to leave the room. “I may come back down later this afternoon? A short trip—not too strenuous?”

  Devin looked at the books in his arms and shook his head. “If you wish.”

  { Chapter 15 }

  Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, and Aggie sat up the instant her eyes opened. It had been a week of her bed captivity, and Doctor Christianson had given her the freedom for activity today. She had immediately made Devin promise her the tour of Stonewell first thing in the morning.

  She glanced down at the bed next to her. Empty. He had slept every night with her, hand on her hip, giving her the security that set her mind to calm in her sleep. The last few mornings he had stayed in bed for a while talking about Stonewell, or what he was going to do during the day, but this morning he was gone.

  Blasted. He was going to renege on his promise.

  Furious that he thought he could keep her in the room another long day, Aggie jumped out of the bed. Landing on the floor jostled her wound, but it didn’t stop her as she jerked her robe over her night chemise, muttering to herself about the prevalent injustices from the man she married.

  She turned
the knob on the door, half-surprised it wasn’t locked. At least Devin had the good sense not to imprison her in the room. She peered out into the long hallway, curious. She had only been taken to the library a couple times, had fumbled in the dark the first night, and had no idea where anything else in the house was.

  But she would look in every room if need be to find Devin. Her first guess was the study, if she could find it. Bare heels thumping on the wood floors, she stepped into the hall, turning right at the corner to the stairs.

  She crashed into the chest of a grey haired, distinguished man, who could only have been Devin’s steward, Thompson, if Aggie recalled correctly what Devin had told her about him.

  He stepped backward, horrified at running straight into his injured duchess. “I am so sorry, your grace.” He managed to maintain a dignified air, even though he now teetered on the top edge of the stairs.

  Aggie reached out to grab his arm and pull him forward. She didn’t want crippling the house steward to be her first act at Stonewell. But the crash, coupled with the pull, sent sharp pains through her shoulder.

  “No, no,” Aggie said, gripping her shoulder tenderly as the pain peaked, then ebbed away. “It was my fault. I was at a near run when I turned the corner. You are Thompson?”

  Thompson nodded. “I should have been further out in the hall, your grace. Please accept my apologies.”

  “There was no way you could have seen me coming, Thompson. Truly. I was too fast in my hunt for his grace.”

  Thompson gave a worried look at her shoulder. “Duchess, if I may be so bold, perhaps I shall have a soothing bath drawn up for you? Once refreshed, I am sure the duke will be pleased to take you on the grand tour of Stonewell. The staff has eagerly awaited your recovery.”

  Aggie sighed. The temptation of a nice hot bath overrode her immediate need to find Devin and demand her tour. Even if it did mean being stuck in the room a bit longer. She did, after all, want to look her best when she was presented to the staff. “Yes, that does sound nice. But you will find his grace for me?”