by Darcy Burke
If she was going to be fair, she needed to give him access not only to Maddie, but also to her. If Ella did what he wanted, she would be lost. Perhaps she already was. Just then, she was reminded by her logical side that Devon would want nothing to do with her once he found out she was being blackmailed. Most men cared little of the issues of women, and it would be inconvenient when the woman you are spending time with has to give away a small fortune to unknown braggarts. With no title, save the one he gave her when they wed, Ella had no known connections and once the Ton learned of how she had been living these past years, well, she would be more of a pariah than she was her first go around. No, Devon would be wiser to tuck tail.
Ella slid from the bed taking care to be as quiet as possible. Her weight barely made any change in the mattress, so Devon slept on. Her responsibility was to the bakery and Maddie. She couldn't be concerned about Devon. He would realize he still detested Scotland and that this foolhardy venture was not worth his time. If she could keep their contact to a minimum until then, she might be able to get free with only minor heartbreak.
Ella plucked her gown and boots from around the bed. The gown was hopelessly crumpled and would need a great deal of work to bring it back to its beauty. She laid it out on the small table in the center of the room and folded it as best she could. She went behind the dressing screen to don her traveling clothes. By the layer of frost along the edge of the window, it was a crisp Scottish spring morning. She made sure to put on an extra pair of stockings. Once dressed and packed, she decided to let him sleep. He looked horrible in the light of day, as if he hadn't slept in days. Ella knew that feeling and wished she was still abed with him, but it would do no good for either of them to wake in each other's arms again today.
Taking a piece of paper from the small desk in the corner, she sat to compose a note. It had to be dismissive, but not insulting. It also needed not to let him know she had already made up her mind, because until he realized she was not what he desired, he would see her as a conquest. She thanked him for his concern, and said she would be seeing him later, hoping he would get bored long before that. Right now, she needed space— as much space as possible. If she could keep him at bay long enough, she could build her reserves to protect her heart. That is what she told herself, but that logical being inside her told her it was already too late because that had been taken four years ago.
On soft tread, Ella left the room with her belongings and made her way to the taproom. Once there, she asked Timothy to fetch Eric and get the gig ready for the trip back. She also ordered a basket of food for the trip. She was famished, but did not dare take a meal at a table. The basket would be plenty to keep Eric and her full and satisfied on the trip home. It was also important to settle her bill. That would be something Devon would try to do and she wanted none of his heavy-handed handouts. She was still an independent woman, and while the money was sorely needed to pay toward the next blackmailers' payment, Ella refused to become indebted to him again. Mayhap, Devon would wake before anyone thought to go and tidy the room, but there was not she could do if otherwise.
As the gig rambled out of the Inn lot, Ella sat with her back straight and eyes forward, not looking back. For if she did, there was a chance to decide it a better choice to return to his arms and that warm bed. No, there was nothing there for her, and she would do well to remember that. That was the only thing that saved her last time, remembering she was not a Viscountess or his lover. To let her resolve falter now would only mean more pain later. Instead, she watched the sun's rays begin to melt the frost on the grass and warm the world.
Her belly growled and reminded her of the basket. "Well, Eric, are you ready for a feast? What would you like first?" she asked, putting the morning's events from her mind, at least for the time being.
"No, you eat first, Mrs. R. I will have what is left," Eric declined.
"Nonsense, I had them put a basket together that would feed us both. Here, have some bread and a piece of cold chicken." She handed him the food, then dug in to find a juicy piece of hen for herself. The food took her mind off other parts of her body that would have argued. The last thought she allowed herself on the subject was why men could so prance into one's orderly life and muck it up with a caress or a kiss.
♥♥♥
Devon stood in the window overlooking the Inn yard and watched as his wife's gig rambled down the road and out of sight. His body ached from... well... the list was long. It ached from the journey he took to get here, the fear that he held at bay when he followed his wife to the docks, and anger he controlled when he would have chosen to throttle the man Ella was forced to interact with. It also ached from a night spent holding the woman who was his wife, but not allowing himself to take advantage, but at this moment, it hurt most of all, because he spent too much damn time this morning holding himself still as not to scare her. When she had first awoken, he was already awake and enjoying her warmth next to him, but once she roused, he held himself silent allowing her to come to terms with him in her bed. Just when he thought she would send him out with a boot to the head, she had opened to him. His body reacted at the memory, but it was something else that had him more concerned. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest.
Once sated, they lay tangled together, but he did not sleep as she assumed. He waited, wondering about her next move. He would have hoped for a repeat, but instead, in true Ella fashion, she ran. He had expected it however, so it had no bearing on his plans.
As the gig vanished over the hillside, he turned from the window and gathered his clothing. While dressing, Devon decided to give her time. Right now, he thought as he tied his cravat into a simple countryman's knot, she thinks she has the upper hand. If Devon let her alone for a while, she would be lulled into thinking his interest was waning. Besides, he would not know until he returned to Clive's if his secret weapons were en route yet. She could hold her own against a man. She just considered them all like her father, but she would not have so much luck with the two women whom she was closest to. It would also give him time to do some digging into the blackguards who were blackmailing her.
Again, he was sure Clive would see her leaving without so much as a thank you as a loss, but Devon was beginning to believe that when Ella ran, it was because she was afraid of her own feelings. Their lovemaking was amazing. He had relived their one night together more times than he could count, and today's exercise only solidified the fact that they fit as if they were made one for the other. The way her body responded to his touch told of the connection. There was not one thing about her that didn't call to him: her scent, her taste, her curves and softness, her longer than imagined legs wrapped around his hips. Damn, he needed to get on the road and let the cool morning air have its way with his ardor. When he got his wife back in his bed where she belonged, he might not let her out for a month.
Devon quit the room and made his way to the stables. He didn't even bother stopping to settle the bill, because Ella no doubt, already took care of it. She wouldn't want the owners knowing he had spent the night. He would not have to take such an unpleasant route back, so Devon let the mount saunter along at its own pace as he gave himself time to rest. He would need to be rested up to take on the blackmailers and to deal with Ella in the process. Clive would have resources and would aid Devon however he needed. For now, he wouldn't be bogged down by the details, those would come in due time. Presently, he gave himself leave to wonder what the Tate would be like filled with the laughter of Maddie and Ella. What would a family dinner be like? He was never allowed to eat with his father, but Maddie would be refused nothing. No hapless nannies or boarding schools. She would have the best of the best, but she would never be absent in the Tate. Ella had put her mark on the house before she left and he hoped she would transform it when she was back. The house, like him, mourned her for far too long. Now that she was back, everything would go back as it should. The thought brought him up short.
The horse must have fe
lt his reaction because he shook his mane and nickered in complaint. Blast, Clive may have been more on point than even his friend knew. Devon had spent four years convincing himself he was better off and that he was incapable of loving a woman, because when he did, they left. What if his father's legacy wasn't that of never being able to love, but instead, one of loving so much that you would rather leave the world without the object? His father had tried to fight it by loving every woman he could get his hands on, but Devon fought it by forgoing love all together. As the horse followed in his wife's path, he mused that both were just as destructive and painful, but perhaps it was not the time to make this a family legacy. Ella was not his mother and he was not his father after all. Sitting a bit higher in the saddle, Devon edged the beast along. Giving Ella space didn't mean he was without purpose for the next day or so. Following the sun, he began to order the tasks and the details fell into place. First being another intimate encounter with his wife. The love making this morning had proven she was affected, and before she was able to find a way to justify that, he would need to build on it. This time, however, it would be a place she couldn't help but be reminded every time she went there. He smiled to himself as he let the horse take him back to Aires Meade.
♥♥♥
The larder smelled of the new spices that Ella had yet to square away. The bakery had been busy since her return and she and Penny were out straight. She had managed to get at least a small amount of rest when she got back a day ago, but her dreams were troubled by visions of her wretched husband. Her Wonderfully talented, skillful, wretched husband and she felt lighter just thinking on him. She still wasn't sure how he found her or what he knew of her situation.
"Mrs. R?" Called Penny from the outer room. "We are ready to leave, but the princess wants a hug before we go."
"Be right there," Ella answered, tying the last bundle of sage to hang for the winter months.
Penny and Ella were going down by the river to spend the night with Penny's grandmother who was feeling out of sorts and wanted company. "Do you have the dinner I packed?" Ella asked Penny as she scooped up Maddie in a big hug filled with kisses. "You need to be a very good girl. Penny's grandmother is under the weather."
"I know, but she says I make her feel young," Maddie chirped in her mother's arms.
"We will be home by sunrise in the morn," Penny assured her.
"That is fine. Since you made a batch of bread this afternoon, there will only be one for me to deal with on the morrow. Tell your grandmother to feel better."
"Bye Mommy," Maddie called as they left by way of the kitchen door. Ella would need to take at least another hour to get the larder in order, and then she planned on eating some stew and heading to bed early.
The larder was dark, but Ella had put a candle in the small window to give her enough light to work from. After only a few minutes, she was interrupted by a knock at the door. When she opened it, thinking that Eric was looking for Penny, she was set off balance by Devon.
"Good evening." His deep voice washed over her, setting every nerve on fire. Drat him. She needed to be able to show him she was not affected. It would help if she wasn't reliving their most recent activities at the Inn, or if she wasn't lost swimming in his liquid eyes, or perhaps if his deep baritone wasn't in her ear, and his hands, well everywhere. Oh, Lord.
"Hello, I wasn't expecting to see you tonight." She faked her indifferent tone. Her breasts tightened in her dress, rubbing along the seam of her chemise to show her charade. She would consider her traitorous reaction later, when she was alone. The sooner she could get rid of him, the sooner she would be alone and able to school her emotions. Tears burned behind her eyes. If only she could trust enough, she would launch herself into his protective embrace... but her father had taught her any sign of weakness was an opportunity to hurt, and oh did she feel weak at the moment. If she allowed it, she could start to consider a life beyond her current state. That would not do.
"May I come in? I know you were not expecting me, but I thought we could spend some time together."
"Well, you are welcome to come in, but Maddie is gone with Penny for the night and I am busy organizing the larder, so I am afraid I do not have time to tarry." She turned and walked away from the open door. She needed distance, because her heart was beating too hard and she was too happy he wanted to spend time with her. This would not do.
"I would like to help if I can. Perhaps, if we work together to get your work finished, you will have time to sit down and discuss things."
"An English Lord, organizing food stores? I am sure you are not serious," Ella scoffed, surprised by his offer.
"Are you insinuating that an English Lord is too stupid, or too lazy to do any task?" he asked with a smile, sending shivers and heat low in her belly.
"Fine, you may help." If she began to quarrel with him, they might begin to enjoy it as they used to when she lived with him. "If you are tall enough, I won't have to worry about the step stool."
"Perfect. I am glad I came when I did then." He followed her dutifully into the small room that had gotten smaller since he entered. There was no room for her to turn around by herself, but with his large form in the middle of the room, she was forced to be in contact with him as she sidled past. "What first?" he asked.
"I need to hang these sage bundles on those pegs above the top shelf. Can you reach if I hand them to you?"
"I think I can handle that," he replied, his warm breath brushing over her neck and shoulder, sending shivers along her skin.
It took a moment before Ella came to her senses and began handing him the bundles. They worked for several minutes in companionable silence, which was just as disconcerting for Ella than if they were talking. Two people should not be comfortable in silence together. They just shouldn't.
"Done, now I need to put the cinnamon in the box up there." She reached around him to the wooden box on the top shelf. She had to use her hand to steady herself on his back as she leaned. His back muscles rippled as he turned, raising his arm up and over her head, until they were facing each other. Ella gasped at the contact and in doing so, inhaled his scent. Her head filled with the cleanness of his saving salve, then the smell of leather, and a cool spring night in the moors. Together with the spice smells, it was intoxicating.
"I think the cinnamon can wait," looking down at her. His body blocked the one candle in the dark room, but she felt his eyes boring into her soul.
"Why can the cinnamon wait?" she asked on a wisp of a breath, because he was taking all the air from her lungs.
"For this," he said bringing his hand to her shoulder, sliding it up to her neck in such a soft caress, Ella thought she might be dreaming. Devon guided her head toward him. He put his other hand against the wall, above her head and leaned into her. Devon engulfed Ella until it was only him. Everything else fell away.
He surrounded her and filled all her senses. She couldn't escape, not that she wanted to. She wanted this, oh God did she want this. She knew there would be a price to pay for indulging, but that would come on the morrow, right now, right here, it was Devon. She let her eyes flutter shut.
His lips lowered onto hers, his breath heating her face as he closed in. His hand, now cradling her head and cheek smelled of the sage leaves he had been stocking for her. The scent of brandy and apple danced on the whoosh of breath leaving that beautiful mouth, and the taste like a decadent dessert. His touch was as smooth as the brandy he tasted of. Devon's lips were full and soft, but with a firmness that would brook no argument. The kiss wasn't cruel, but it was demanding, leaving no question in Ella's mind what was about to happen in the larder. They could have kissed for only moments, or for hours, but the haze didn't lift when Devon pulled back and leaned his forehead on hers.
"Damn, Ella," he said with heavy breath, "if you want me to stop and not go further, you need to speak now. I don't know that I will be able to walk away if I continue." The tension in his body rolled off him swirling through the small r
oom, making the space even smaller. He rested his head on hers while she contemplated her answer.
Beyond speech, Ella reached up on tiptoes bending his head to meet her lips as she kissed him. She felt the low, deep moan from Devon as he wound his arm around her waist, never breaking their kiss, and backed her up against the cold wall of the larder. She was being devoured like one of her pastries as Devon's mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, then her ear. He plucked her earlobe with his teeth, using just enough pressure, sending shivers down to her stomach. From there, his expert mouth moved down her neck, which was decidedly more sensitive than Ella had given it credit. A soft moan escaped when he made his way to the sensitive skin just above the bodice of her dress.
With his free arm, Devon pushed the bodice from her shoulder until he had released her bare chest. The cool air mixed with his warm breath was a heady combination and her nipples hardened. His hand covered her small breast. His touch was soft, almost timid as he took his time driving her to insanity. She laid her head back and let the sensations take her; so much so that, when Devon spoke, the noise jumped her.
"I need you to sit back on that barrel, love," he rasped out. "Can you do that?" When he had taken off his waistcoat, Ella wasn't sure, but she held onto his shirtsleeve clad arms as he guided her to the assortment of barrels. He laid his jacket and waistcoat on top to make them more comfortable. "Lie back," Devon instructed. Ella did as she was bade and laid back propping herself on her elbows.
Her feet were dangling over the edge, but once Devon's hands touched her ankles and made their way up the inside of her legs, they could have been floating. His hands were warm on her stockings as he left a trail of tingling heat in their wake. The cool air abraded her thighs when Devon flipped her skirts up, revealing her to his view. Now the only part of her body that was covered was her midsection. The rest was on display for Devon's pleasure. Her hair was a riot, hanging around her shoulders. When Ella lost the pins, she didn't know. On Devon's touch at her core, she ceased caring. She would expire from the feel if he had his way. She was sure. The intimate touch set aflame feelings that kept building, and building, but when Devon knelt and replaced his hand with his mouth, she all but flew off her perch from surprise. As he laved her with his tongue, the feelings built up from the past four years demanded release.
