by Faye Hall
Hesitantly, Devon leaned into her, his lips touching hers, soft at first then more passionate, begging her to respond.
Lotte wanted to turn away from him. She wanted to be strong enough to not desire this man as she did. Lotte knew this was a strength she never had when it came to Devon. She returned his kiss passionately, her hands frantically pulling at his shirt, begging for entrance. Now more than ever, she wanted to feel this man close to her. She needed to feel his strong arms around her, holding her close against him as he poured his desire deep inside her.
Feeling his hand lifting up her skirts, Lotte’s breath caught in her throat. His roughened hand slid along her thigh, inching upward toward her aching center. She wanted to feel him touch her there, caress her until she begged him for release. His fingers ran through the curls that covered the apex of her thighs, and Lotte bit her lip in anticipation of more, but he pulled his hand away before he could satisfy her.
Devon walked her backward toward his bed, his hands holding her to him, keeping their bodies joined. Feeling the bed hit her in the back of her knees, Lotte broke their embrace, her gaze studying the man before her.
She knew she should stop him now, before things went too much further. She knew the threats she was inviting by laying with Devon in his own bed, as if she was inviting discovery of their affair. Still, she couldn’t refuse him.
“Devon, I… I…”
He lifted a finger to her lips, silencing her words. “Let me see you, Lotte,” Devon begged her, his fingers going to the fastenings on her servant’s attire. “I want to touch you. I want to taste you.”
Lotte wasn’t sure what he meant, nor did she try to fight him. When all her clothes had fallen to the floor, she found herself suddenly feeling very vulnerable, her hands automatically going to try and cover herself up.
“Don’t, please.” His words were barely more than a whisper. “Let me look at your beauty.”
Lotte knew she should fear him seeing her scar as she stood before him fully exposed, but now, in this moment, all she could think of was the man before her and the fire burning inside her to lay with him, their bodies entwined.
Laying her on his bed, Devon stepped back away from her slightly, as if he was admiring some scene of beauty. Slowly, his hands caressed the skin of her legs, sliding up higher to her knees. Lifting her legs slightly, he moved her knees slightly apart, spreading her thighs and exposing herself to him. Lotte shut her eyes, preparing herself to be filled with pleasure as he plunged his throbbing self deep inside her. What she felt instead was the tender caress of his tongue running along her moist slit, his hands squeezing her thighs as he held her to him.
“Devon,” she gasped as pleasure shot through her.
* * * *
Devon felt Lotte trying to leave his bed barely an hour after he had poured his seed inside of her. Reaching out, he grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Please stay,” he begged, his eyes opening to look at her. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I can’t spend the night in your bed,” she replied. “If your wife finds me here—”
Though he understood her reasoning, Devon couldn’t ignore how her words irritated him.
“Would you stay the night if this was a bed at the Pioneer Hotel?” he asked, his harsh tone making his words far crueler than he intended them to be.
Lotte tried to pull away from him, obviously not wanting to answer him. “I need to go, Devon.”
“Where?” he asked, continuing his taunting. “Back to your bed at the hotel?”
Finally, she pulled herself free from his hold, still holding the bedsheet tightly to her, covering her nakedness. “I have no bed at the hotel. I have never worked there.”
“I know,” Devon said, trying to stop her as she left his bed. “The bartender told me, Lotte. So then I wonder why you were there tonight?”
“I told you why I was there!” she said, her voice raised. “A friend of mine was found murdered.”
Devon nodded. “I know what you told me, but how do I know that’s your real reason for being at the hotel tonight? How do I know you weren’t just trying to find another desperate john to lure into your clutches?”
As if automatic, Lotte turned back to him, slapping him hard across his stubbled cheek. “You bastard!” she spat at him. “I went there to visit those girls, it was you who went there to be serviced!”
“Visit?” Devon remarked, his brow rose in slight humor. “No woman goes to a whorehouse just to visit!”
Angrily, Lotte reached for her clothes and began to dress. “I owe those girls my life, Devon. They patched me up and kept me safe until…” Her words trailed off.
“Until what?” Devon asked, his curiosity sparked.
Lotte pulled on her blouse. “Until I could come and work here for your wife.”
He grabbed for her hand then, pulling her back to the bed.
“Why did you really come here, Lotte?” Devon asked her, fighting her struggles. “You could have found work in any estate house here in Brandon, so why did you come to this one?”
Lotte continued to try and free herself from his hold. “Let me go, Devon, please.”
He rolled her beneath him, his solid form stopping her escape. His hands went to her face and he brushed her light red hair back from her still passion-blushed cheeks.
“I’m sure I know you from somewhere. I mean, before here and before the Pioneer Hotel. You are so much like—”
“I’m not Lotte Higgins,” she said, cutting off his words, keeping her eyes averted from his.
Devon nodded. “You may be right about that, honey, but still… I’ve spent time with you before. I’ve spent time in your bed before. I’m sure of it.”
Finally, she looked back at him. “How could you be so sure, Devon?” she asked. “With all the women you’ve bedded, how would you remember me?”
Devon kissed her softly, his lips savoring the taste of hers. Hesitantly, he left them, trailing kisses across her cheek and nuzzling his nose into the side of her neck. Lifting his face, he looked to her again.
“I remember your scent. You smell like roses.” Holding her crystal blue gaze, Devon looked into the depths, finding something familiar, something… Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat. “You smell like home, Lotte.”
Before she could ask what his words meant, Devon embraced her passionately, his hands holding her to him, his fingers caressing her soft, naked flesh as he again rid her of her blouse.
In truth, he couldn’t have explained to her what his words meant. All he knew is that when he lay with this woman, when he held her close, it felt like where he had always meant to be. It felt like where he had always been prior to his marriage to Elizabeth.
Sheathing his manhood inside her, his unrelenting hunger for this woman engulfing him, Devon knew that being with her finally made him feel complete.
* * * *
Their passions sated, Devon held Lotte to him, his mind struggling to make order of everything. He was certain now more than ever that this woman in his arms was Lotte Higgins, back from the dead. Were it not for her continued denials and lack of any identifying scar caused from her shooting, he would confront her about it and demand to know why all the secrecy.
Still, a small part of him feared hearing her tell him again that Lotte Higgins was dead and would never be coming back to him. But with the thought of this woman being who he thought she was, Devon couldn’t deny the fire that ignited in his heart, and he held her closer. There had to be a way for him to prove if she was Lotte Higgins or not, once and for all.
His sleep that night was restless, his dreams haunted by images of the woman he still held in his arms and images of the woman from his past he ached for her to be. Waking the next morning in an empty bed, Devon knew he would do near anything to be able to prove the true identity of the woman he had so passionately loved last night in his bed, and explain exactly what connection she had to him. Desperate for answers, Devon found himself going to his wife, hopin
g Elizabeth could tell him something that could explain just who her new handmaiden was and why she was so very much like Lotte Higgins.
Hearing familiar voices coming from inside Elizabeth’s room, Devon silently opened the door a crack and peered inside to see Lotte attending to his wife.
“I told you I wanted the blue gown!” Elizabeth spat rudely at her handmaiden.
Lotte didn’t cower down. “I know you did, Mrs. Munroy, but you wore that gown a few weeks ago, when last you saw Lady Sibson in town. She can’t see you wearing it again.”
“But blue is her favorite color, you stupid girl!”
Lotte brushed away Elizabeth’s interfering hands and continued fastening her gown. “Purple is Lady Sibson’s favorite color!” Lotte insisted. “Blue is her husband’s favorite color, which she humors him by saying she shares. In truth, she hates blue, so much so she won’t even allow any of her groundsmen to plant blue flowers.”
“You expect me to believe that a mere servant would know such intimate details about a woman such as Lady Sibson?” Elizabeth asked.
Lotte nodded. “She told me herself. She won’t even allow blueberries to be served at breakfast because she despises the color so much. She tells her husband they are just never in season here in Australia.”
Devon closed the door quietly. He felt as if he had just been bolted straight back into the past. He had heard that same story about Lady Sibson once before. Her ladyship had told him the story herself, when he had attended a function at the Sibson estate with Lotte Higgins.
To hear the same story nearly word for word coming from this woman’s mouth now, it chilled him as nothing else could. For her to know this story, she had to be Lotte Higgins. She just had to be.
* * * *
Finishing up with her duties to Elizabeth, Lotte escaped to her room, needing to gather her thoughts and remember why she had originally lowered herself to the life of a servant and sought employment at the Munroy estate. She had come there for Elizabeth, not for Devon.
Shaking her head at her continued inanity, Lotte again reminded herself that she couldn’t keep surrendering to Devon. She certainly couldn’t make a habit out of spending the night in his bed. If she weren’t careful, Lotte knew she would fall with child and then all she had worked so hard for would have been for nothing. She wouldn’t be able to fight Elizabeth then.
“Lotte,” she heard Devon’s voice softly calling her from behind.
Quickly brushing her hair back from her face, Lotte let out a steadying sigh before turning around to face him. “I need to be getting back to your wife, sir,” she uttered as she tried to squeeze past him.
Reaching out to her, his hand gently rested on her forearm, stopping her. “I need to talk to you, Lotte.”
She tried to avoid his gaze. “I really need to go. Elizabeth will be looking for me.”
Devon still held her. “Please, Lotte.”
Studying him, Lotte knew something wasn’t right. Something about him was different. “You shouldn’t be here,” Lotte tried again. “Elizabeth has told me if she ever finds you here, if she ever finds us together, she will kill me.”
Just then, Elizabeth rang the bell pull, summoning Lotte back to her room.
“I have to go,” Lotte said as she pulled away from him. “She will come looking for me if I don’t attend to her quickly.”
“Will you come meet with me after you’re finished with her?” Devon asked. “Please.”
Lotte turned and looked at him. She had no doubt that he was going to break off their affair, tossing her aside like some used carpet bag. “There’s a place near here,” she uttered cautiously. “I used to swim there as a child. It’s past the scrub—”
“The waterhole?” Devon asked. “You want me to meet you at the waterhole?”
Lotte nodded. “Do you know the place?”
“I’ve been there a few times,” he said.
“It’s a safe distance from the house and no one should see us there.”
Devon’s stare narrowed. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I used to gather water chestnuts there when I was younger.”
Lotte knew she was inviting Devon to discover who she really was, but truthfully, she no longer cared. She was tiring of this charade.
“Will you meet me there, Lotte?” Devon asked her. “I need to talk to you where we won’t be interrupted.”
Lotte hesitantly nodded before she turned away from him and hurried to the main house and her mistress.
* * * *
Elizabeth stood in her room waiting for her handmaiden to return, wondering not for the first time about the mystery that was Lotte. She didn’t question her ability as a servant. In fact, she was one of the best Elizabeth had ever seen. The secrets Lotte knew about the families of this town far surpassed just the noticings of a good servant though. It was almost as if she had some insight into these families and how they lived. It was almost as if she had lived this life with them, as one of them.
Elizabeth knew there was no point asking Lotte how she came to know so much about these families, for she would only lie as servants did. She would no doubt tell her some elaborate story, like her explanation as to how she came to the Munroy estate to begin with.
Not for a moment did Elizabeth believe that Lotte was sent to her by the girls at the Pioneer Hotel. She was more inclined to believe that Devon had brought her back to the estate after having spent the night with her at the brothel. But after observing the minimal distance Devon treated Lotte with, Elizabeth began to think that whore or not, there was something different about this woman.
Her husband had brought home his whores to work for her before, but always he treated them with such disregard, but not so with Lotte. This in itself worried Elizabeth, and for the first time in years, she feared another woman taking away the wealthy husband she had fought so hard to obtain.
No matter how brilliant a handmaiden Lotte may have been, Elizabeth wouldn’t risk losing the wealth of the Munroy family to some unseen connection her handmaiden had with Devon. But what connection could there be? Elizabeth didn’t know. After all, what could a man of wealth and position like Devon Munroy have in common with a simple serving girl?
Biding her time until Lotte returned to wait on her, Elizabeth studied her actions and behavior as she moved around the room, needing to find anything that could tell her just who this woman was. Knowing she could no longer wait to uncover the secrets this woman was hiding, Elizabeth had sent her on an unneeded errand, then took the opportunity to search the girl’s room without any interference from her or warning to hide something.
Walking into the room, Elizabeth was disgusted by the simplicity of it, horrified that any woman would allow herself to live this way. The few clothes that hung in the wardrobe were so simple and plain, and there was no jewelry anywhere to be seen.
“Poverty,” Elizabeth sniffed as she walked around, searching for the best place to start looking.
Opening the drawers of the dresser, Elizabeth looked at the sparse underclothing inside. Disgusted though she was, she reached inside and lifted the clothing to see if anything was hidden beneath. Lifting out the piece of paper she found within, Elizabeth began to read:
Devon held me to him. He is so passionate…so…
He keeps asking me if I’m Lotte Higgins, if I knew her. I keep telling him I’m not. But the way he makes love to me, the words he whispers to me…I will be her if that is what he needs me to be.
Elizabeth threw the piece of paper back in the drawer. Lotte Higgins! Even from the grave, this woman continued to haunt her. And if Devon was starting to compare her handmaiden to his once love, Elizabeth couldn’t allow this to happen. If Devon were foolish enough to fall in love with this woman, then Elizabeth knew she would lose everything.
She had killed the first Lotte for interfering in her business and trying to take Devon away from her; she would do so again if need be. Going back to her room, she waited for Lotte
’s return.
Chapter 21
Lotte walked back into Elizabeth’s room about an hour after she’d been sent on her errand.
“And where have you been?” Elizabeth targeted her as soon as she walked in.
Lotte curtsied slightly. “My apologies for taking so long, Mrs. Munroy, but I ran into some unforeseeable problems.”
Lotte hoped she wouldn’t ask what such circumstances were, because she didn’t want to tell Elizabeth that she had to stop several times to be sick. Lotte had suspected for some time now that she might be with child, but now, with the constant nausea being joined by regular physical sickness, she knew for certain that she had to be carrying Devon’s child.
“You really are the worst handmaiden I’ve ever had, Lotte!” Elizabeth continued, her tone haughtier than usual.
Unsure about her mistress’s sudden change in attitude, Lotte cautiously went about her business preparing Elizabeth’s outfit.
“And I’m sure my husband will agree with me once I tell him who you really are,” Elizabeth continued, turning to look at her.
Lotte’s eyes shot up, suddenly fearful. “What do you mean by who I really am?”
Elizabeth smiled at her as if she knew the truth. “I wonder what Devon will say when I tell him he’s been sleeping with the very woman who killed Lotte Higgins.”
“What?” Lotte cried, unable to believe what she was hearing.
“I read your touching little words, Lotte. About how Devon wants you so much to be the woman he once loved, about how you’re willing to play that bitch for him too!”
Lotte began to back away from her, concerned for her safety and that of her unborn child. “Elizabeth, I can explain—”
Elizabeth threw a vase at Lotte, narrowly missing her. “You little whore! You think you can come in here and take my money, take my husband’s money?”
Lotte ducked as another vase flew over her head.
“Get out of my house!” Elizabeth screamed. “And don’t go running to Devon, because by now he hates you as much as I. Did you honestly think he could feel anything for the woman who murdered Lotte Higgins then pretended to take her place?”
