Shrouded Passions

by Faye Hall

  Patrick pulled away from her. “You’ve been swimming in the waterhole again, haven’t you? Your hair is damp, so are your clothes.”

  “Well, after you and Father decided to pass me around through all those disgusting men I felt I deserved it.” Going to her brother, she again linked arms with him. “Please don’t tell Father. He will only worry.”

  When Lotte and Patrick returned to the hall, they halted outside, Patrick needing to straighten his sister’s attire.

  “You look as if you’ve been up to mischief,” he muttered to her as he helped straighten her hair.

  Catching a glimpse of Devon returning to the hall, Lotte’s stare lingered on him, memories of their recent passions returning to her. Smiling slightly at him, she turned back to face her brother. Patrick’s once playful tone quickly vanished and Lotte began to fear what he had discovered.

  Patrick yanked on his sister’s elbow painfully. “You were with him, weren’t you? You were with Devon Munroy?”

  Lotte pulled herself free from his hold. “I don’t tell you who you can and can’t spend your time with, brother!”

  Patrick persisted. “Have you any idea what you’re doing? Have you any idea who that man is?”

  “I know who he is, Patrick!” Lotte spat at her brother, again pulling herself free from his grasp. “Father told me about the family and their connection to ours. But Devon isn’t his father!”

  Patrick looked unamused. “You’re right, Devon isn’t his father, but that still doesn’t change the fact that he’s engaged to be married!”

  “What?” Lotte asked, pain filling her heart at what she was hearing.

  Patrick tried to reach for her hand, but she evaded him. “It’s true, honey. His father announced his engagement to Elizabeth Fanti a few days ago.”

  Leaving her brother as if in a daze, ignoring his cries for her to come back, Lotte walked into the dancehall, all she’d just been told ringing in her head. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.

  No sooner had Lotte entered the dancehall than she was approached by her cousin, Elizabeth Fanti.

  “I’m so happy to see you again, Lotte,” Elizabeth said, grabbing hold of her hand and pulling Lotte along behind her. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

  Rushing up to Devon, Elizabeth stopped, pulling Lotte to a halt directly in front of him.

  “Lotte, I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Devon Munroy.”

  As she had been well taught Lotte reached out her hand to greet him, knowing she could not risk showing any familiarity.

  “Devon,” Elizabeth said, “this is my cousin, Lotte Higgins.”

  Reaching out to her, Devon took her hand in his, kissing it softly. “It’s lovely to meet you, Lotte,” he said as if rehearsed. “It’s always a pleasure to meet some of Elizabeth’s family.”

  Lotte smiled in return. “Likewise, Mr. Munroy.”

  “My two favorite people together,” Elizabeth chimed, her tone sickly. “I do hope you can be friends.”

  Lotte smiled. “Unfortunately, I don’t get out much anymore, Elizabeth. Still, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Munroy.” Lotte curtsied politely. “Please forgive my rudeness, Elizabeth, but it appears my brother needs me.”

  Lotte had barely taken a step away from them when she heard Elizabeth ask Devon, “Did you like her?”

  “If it pleases you, my dear,” she heard Devon reply. Glancing back over her shoulder, Lotte watched as he kissed Elizabeth lightly on the cheek. “Very sorry, my dear, but I need to go sort out some business with my father.”

  With that, he too left Elizabeth.­

  Reaching her brother, Lotte stopped before him, holding back her tears. Patrick reached out to her, taking her hand in his.

  “Are you all right?” Patrick asked.

  Lotte tried to force a smile. “As well as to be expected, considering I’ve just slept with a betrothed man.”

  “You slept with him?” Patrick near yelled at her. “Are you mad? What if you were to fall pregnant?”

  Lotte sucked up her tears, glancing around at the curious onlookers. “Keep your voice down, Patrick! Besides, it hardly matters. He has his fiancée, he doesn’t need me for any more than what he’s already taken.”

  Grabbing her by the elbow, Patrick turned her toward the approaching man. “Honey, he may be engaged, but if he only wanted you for a single moment of pleasure, why now is he walking toward us?”

  Lotte turned, her stare meeting that of Devon Munroy as he carefully approached her. Stopping before her and her brother, he bowed politely.

  “Patrick, could I please have the honor of your sister’s company?”

  Patrick eyed him critically. “Why do you want my sister’s company, Devon?”

  Devon smiled. “A dance please, Lotte. That is all I ask.”

  Lotte nodded at her brother before turning back to Devon. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Munroy.”­

  * * * *

  “Did you tell your brother about us?” Devon asked as he led Lotte out onto the dance floor.

  Lotte smiled politely. “What is there to tell, Mr. Munroy?”

  “Mr. Munroy?” he asked. “You once told me you didn’t care for my last name, or to know who I was the son of.”

  Lotte turned to face him, her hand resting on his shoulder, readying herself for the dance to begin.

  “You would have done well to tell me you were engaged to be married though, Mr. Munroy, especially before you took my purity.”

  Devon wanted to pull her aside, wanted to explain in private all that had happened tonight. Still, he knew if he did it would draw too much attention to them both, especially from her brother’s watchful eyes.

  Pulling her closer to him, his arms held her firmly as they began to move to the music.

  “Are you not even going to explain to me?” Lotte asked, her irritation coming through in her tone.

  Devon pulled her closer to him, mere inches separating their bodies. “What is there to explain, Lotte?”

  “You bastard!” she spat at him. “You have a fiancée. You had a fiancée when you joined me in that waterhole—”

  “I didn’t choose to have my fiancée though, Lotte. I chose to have you.”

  Lotte’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means my father came home from your uncle’s to tell me they had arranged a marriage between myself and Elizabeth. When I objected, my father told me I had no choice in my future bride and that if I were to persist on seeing you he would disinherit me totally,” Devon explained.

  “So why are you here with me now?” Lotte asked.

  Devon held her gaze. “Because I chose you, Lotte. I chose you over the threats of violence from George Fanti, over my father’s anger, and over my family’s money.”

  “But why?” Lotte persisted.

  Devon lifted a hand to her face, his roughened fingers brushing the softness of her cheek. “Because I don’t care for any of those things, Lotte. All I care about is you.”

  Lotte struggled to pull away from him. “I bet you’ve lured many a woman into your bed with such sweet words. I wonder if the words you say to lure Elizabeth into your bed are just as sweet?”

  Not waiting for a reply, Lotte left him on the dance floor and headed back in the direction of her brother.

  * * * *

  Lotte had barely left the dance floor when she ran into Elizabeth.

  “So what do you think of him, Lotte?” she asked, sounding almost like a giddy school girl. “Isn’t he just wonderful?”

  Lotte smiled as she nodded. “He seems perfect for you, Elizabeth. Excuse me, won’t you?”

  And with that, Lotte left her and retreated back to the safety of her brother’s company.

  “What is it, Lotte?” Patrick asked, his concern obvious. “What did that bastard say to you?”

  “Nothing, Patrick,” she tried to fob him off. “I just have had enough for this night and I want to go home. I shall wait for
you in the carriage.”

  Not waiting for a reply, Lotte started walking toward the exit of the hall. She was almost there when a male hand reached out and, holding her elbow, pulled her toward him.

  “D-Devon?” Lotte gasped when she realized whom it was. “W-what the hell—”

  “I want to see you again, Lotte. Please?”

  She tried to pull away from him. “I need to go. My family will be waiting for me.”

  Devon wouldn’t let her go though.

  “Please, Lotte,” he begged her again. “I know I should have told you about your cousin, but when I first met you, I didn’t want there to be restrictions or rules or obligations. I just wanted there to be us, only us.”

  Lotte stood for what seemed ages, studying this man before her. Was what he said the truth? She didn’t know. All she knew was how this man made her feel, and she wanted to experience more of that feeling.

  “You know where to find me if you wish, Devon,” she finally answered him. Then, pulling away from him, she turned quickly and left the hall.

  Chapter 7

  Lotte sat beneath the tall, old gum tree at the back of her father’s estate, her shoes thrown aside on the ground, her skirts hitched up in her waistband, and her long hair flowing freely down her back. On her lap rested her notepad, her hands busily scribbling away.

  Hearing footsteps ahead of her, Lotte quickly looked up, concerned who might have come looking for her.

  “What do you want, Patrick?” she asked, her gaze meeting the approaching image of her brother before returning to her writing.

  Patrick stopped before her. Bending down, he casually sat beside his sister. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You do, Lotte,” he replied. “You’ve been distant from Father and me for days now. You barely talk anymore. All you do is write your love stories and hide out here or with that native woman you’re friends with.”

  Lotte kept writing, trying her best to ignore the truth in her brother’s words.

  “He’s been asking around town for you, Lotte,” Patrick continued. “Every dance he’s been to he’s asked why you’ve been absent.”

  Lotte’s hand stilled, not daring to hope that Devon had in fact been missing her.

  “He’s even visited the waterhole every day, looking for you. Your young aboriginal friend, Sarah, has seen him there when she’s gone to gather food.”

  Shaking her head, Lotte pushed herself to keep writing. “I don’t care. I’m sure, in a few weeks, Devon Munroy will be asking for another female.”

  Patrick put his hand on hers, stopping her writing. “It’s already been a couple of weeks, and all he asks about is you.”

  Lotte tried to free her hand from his, but he wouldn’t allow it.

  “Damn it, Lotte! Devon Munroy is not some character in one of your books whose feelings you can toy with at your will. Nor is this all some steamy bit of romance for you to write about. This man has feelings, and you have no right to treat him as if he no longer exists.”

  “He’s engaged, Patrick, or have you forgotten that!” she finally yelled at him. “This man isn’t some jilted lover. He is going to be married to our cousin.”

  Patrick nodded. “He still deserves an explanation. If you are so mad with him, then you need to tell him, even if it’s only to call him a bastard and damn him to hell.”

  Lotte fidgeted with the pen she now held in her hand, her gaze staring off across the fields behind her father’s estate house. Suddenly, she felt her brother’s arm go affectionately around her shoulders.

  “Unless you don’t want to damn him to hell, Lotte.”

  She rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. “He made a fool of me. I would be an even bigger fool to go back to this man.”

  Patrick turned his head and lightly kissed his sister on the forehead. “Devon’s been making an even bigger fool of himself, asking after you at every single social function he’s been attending.”

  “I don’t understand why though. I mean, he already has a soon-to-be-wife in tow. Why would he want me?”

  “Maybe it’s not so much a want as it is a need.” Patrick sat up, retracting his arm from his sister. He moved back away from her. His expression was that of concern when he finally looked at her again. “He’s engaged to George Fanti’s daughter. It doesn’t take much imagination to figure Devon had little say in this marriage.”

  Lotte nodded. “I know. Father told me.”

  “Did Father also tell you the consequences that may well follow if you continue your affair with Devon?”

  Lotte didn’t try to hide her downheartedness. “I told Father that Devon wasn’t like his own father.”

  “George Fanti doesn’t care though, Lotte. He wants money. That’s all he wants. And he doesn’t care who he destroys along the way to get that.”

  Lifting her hand to her cheek, Lotte quickly flicked away the small tear that had fallen.

  “Does Elizabeth know about you and Devon yet?” Patrick asked, his tone quiet.

  Lotte shrugged. “I barely know the woman. She introduced herself to me at some dance almost a month ago. I hadn’t seen her again until the other night when she presented me to her fiancé—to Devon.”

  “How did she know who you were?” Patrick asked.

  “I’ve no idea.”

  Patrick sat staring at his sister, his hand gently holding hers. “So what shall I tell Devon Munroy next time he asks for you at a dance?”

  Lotte forced a smile. “I’ll take care of Devon.”­

  * * * *

  Calling for her carriage, Elizabeth Fanti walked toward her front door.

  “Where the hell are you going?” George yelled to his daughter.

  She turned briefly. “It seems if I am to rely on yourself and Jack Munroy, I may never be wed, let alone see even a glimpse of that money that is rightfully ours.”

  “How dare you!” her father roared as he began walking toward her.

  Elizabeth didn’t falter. “I haven’t seen Devon in weeks. No message. No midnight rendezvous. So I’m going to ensure he hasn’t found interest elsewhere.”

  “And exactly how do you plan on doing that?” he asked, standing before her.

  Elizabeth smiled. “I’ve never met a man who’s been able to refuse the affections of a woman being thrown at him.”

  She went to turn away from the old man then, but he reached out, stopping her. “You would stoop so low to whore yourself to this man?”

  Elizabeth pulled away from her father’s grasp, making her irritation at his interference obvious. “That money is ours, Father, and I’ll do whatever I have to so we get it back.”

  Leaving the old man then, Elizabeth quickly walked outside to her waiting carriage.

  Arriving at the Munroy estate, Elizabeth knew she would have to use all her seductiveness if she were to lure Devon back into her clutches. Stepping down from the carriage, she walked straight to the front door and knocked loudly.

  “How can I help you, Miss Fanti?” the butler greeted her.

  “Take me to Devon,” she ordered.

  Following the servant to the study, Elizabeth thanked him politely. Waiting for him to leave, she turned her attention to the man standing before her.

  “I have missed you terribly, Devon.”

  Devon didn’t look up from the papers on his desk. “Have you?”

  Elizabeth stepped toward where he stood at his desk, papers in hand. Slowly, she removed her gloves.

  “Yes, Devon, I have. Terribly so.” Stopping beside him, she ran her hands along the firmness of his arm and up his shoulder. “You’re a hard man to forget, Devon.”

  She pressed herself against him, her breasts molding around his arm. Lifting her foot, she seductively ran a trail up the back of his leg, begging for a reaction.

  “Devon… Please…”

  “Don’t touch me, Elizabeth,” Devon said, pushing her away from h
im. “If this is about the engagement, then you’d best see our fathers, as it was their idea and not mine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  Elizabeth was furious as she watched Devon go back to his business of looking over deed papers and contracts. She wanted to scream at him, but she knew such a reaction wouldn’t persuade him to see this engagement through. No man in the town would ever dare go against the orders of George Fanti, yet this man was standing there doing exactly that.

  “You can leave now, Elizabeth,” Devon said when she continued standing there, just staring at him.

  Dumfounded and humiliated by what had just happened, Elizabeth turned and stormed out of the study. Never before had any man, married or not, rejected her advances. So what made this man any different? She didn’t know.­

  * * * *

  Devon waited until he heard the study door close after Elizabeth to finally look up from his desk, throwing the papers he’d been holding across the wooden surface.

  He had expected a visit from her father wanting to know why he hadn’t been seen courting Elizabeth. Never had he expected it would be she who would come to see him. Devon had no doubt that she’d paid visits like this to men before, and he doubted any of them had been able to refuse such a willing woman throwing herself at them.

  He also knew he, or his father, would probably pay dearly for his blatant rejection of her advances. Still, Devon couldn’t have even entertained the idea of bedding this woman with her hard face and tightly tied back, black hair. She resembled an old spinster, certainly not a woman he wanted to be married to for the rest of his life.

  Pouring himself a drink, Devon knew he had to find a way to publically break his engagement to Elizabeth Fanti and soon.

  Just then there was a knock on the door.

  “Enter.”

  His father’s groundsman, Andrew Hult, walked in, handing him a folded slip of paper. “A message for you, sir.”

  Confused as to why his groundsman would be delivering a message, Devon hesitantly unfolded the piece of paper.

  I don’t care who you’re the fiancé of, Devon.