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Devonny Ch. 01

By: theDuskyGirl



Devonny stepped onto the doorstep, paused, and considered that this was the most impressive doorstep she had ever stood upon. She raised he hand to the gilded golden doorknocker only to draw her and back in apprehension. She self-consciously smoothed her freshly laundered skirts. She adjusted her bonnet and tucked a stray dark curl inside. She reached for the doorknocker, jerked her hand back and pulled the errant curl free again, deciding that it framed her face nicely and made her look that much the sweeter. Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin and knocked upon the door. The door swung open almost immediately startling her. A man who looked to be in his sixties eyed her a moment, looking stern. She watched him take her in from the toes of her kid boots to the top of her head. He was dressed in the garb of a valet or butler. He lifted his chin and gazed down at her imperiously. His voice was haughty, "yes?" 

He eyed the young toffee colored girl who stood on the doorstep. Devonny stared at him dumbstruck and opened her mouth although no sound emerged. 

The valet frowned at her. "Come on now, girl. Out with it."

Devonny's mouth opened and closed. 

"Oh, Miles leave her alone," came a sweetly chirping voice sounded from behind him. 

He stepped aside swinging the door open wider to reveal a round woman about his own age dressed in severe black with a white apron. She wore a mobcap on her head, crinkled grey hairs sprouted at the edges. She was beaming at Devonny, her blue gaze glittering and her face was a bit flushed. She took Devonny's hand warmly and drew her inside. "So you're Margaret's girl? She's told me so much about you and I'm so glad that you've decided to come." The woman was talking rapidly as she led Devonny through the foyer, while Devonny tried not to stare at the vastness of the place and the opulence. "I'm Moira," the woman continued cheerily, "and we can chat in the kitchen. Are you hungry? Would you like some tea?" 

Devonny smiled and shook her head at the barrage of questions. "No, thank you, not hungry. However, some tea would be nice." Moira led her into a kitchen that was many times bigger than any home Devonny had ever been in. Moira seated her at the table and sat down across from the table, still beaming at her. 

Moira considered her intently, "You sure are a pretty thing," she smiled. "My sister, Margaret, tells me you're in need of work and that you are in need of a position with some urgency. Care to explain?"

Devonny looked down at her hands folded in her lap. Her pretty mouth tightened almost imperceptibly. "I had some trouble working at your sister's inn."

Moira let out a laugh. "Is that what she's calling it? An inn?" Moira chuckled. "I know my sister's business, and that is no inn." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "A den of iniquity is what they call it." 

Devonny looked embarrassed. "Yes ma'am." 

"Now my sister told me you 'aint no working gal. That right?" 

Devonny's eyes grew wide. She shook her head vehemently. "No ma'am." She stumbled over her words. "I couldn't...I mean, I wouldn't. I..."

"So tell me what happened, child?"

Devonny made a small shrug with her shoulders. She looked at Moira "I did the sewing and the cooking there. Sometimes I would serve the brandy or wine but I never really talked to the men. Sometime they would flirt but they were just making sport." She returned her gaze self-consciously to her hands in her lap. "But I seem to have gained the attention of one of the gentlemen there. He was quite persistent even though I refused him and Margaret tried to pacify him with other girls. But he did not relent." Her voice wavered. "He attacked me and I hit him...with a bottle. He was drunk and when I hit him he was out cold." She lifted a pleading gaze to Moira. "But Margaret said that he would make trouble for me if I didn't find somewhere to go. And then she told me that you were looking for a housekeeper. She said she would speak to you."

Moira nodded. "Tell me your skills."

Devonny could feel hope swelling in her chest and she smiled faintly. "I can cook, sew, clean. I also know fabrics to shop for and the right places to shop for good produce in the market. I'm a fast learner..." She gazed at Moira. "I need this Mrs. Morrissey. I have nowhere else to go and I promise you won't regret hiring me." 

"Oh, shoo, child," Moira said laughingly . "Margaret assured me that you would be well suited here. I just wanted to hear your side of the story." 

Devonny, beamed and shot to her feet. "Oh, ma'am thank you. You have no idea..." Remembering herself she returned herself gracefully to her chair. 

Moira eyed her fondly. 

"May I ask about the family?" Devonny asked. 

Moira's brows rose. "The family?"

Devonny nodded. "My employers."

"Ah!" Moira grinned and stood to busy herself putting on a pot of tea. "Not a family. It's just the young Masters Elijah and Gabriel." 

Devonny's brow furrowed in confusion. "Young masters?"

"Oh yes," Moira responded smiling. "Brothers, they are, not a year between them. They are the sons of a wealthy merchant family. Their mother and father—God bless them—died on a voyage to the Americas when they were but wee boys. But they grew into men and expanded the family business. Some of the wealthiest young men in London." 

"I see." Devonny said absently. 

Catching her tone, Moira turned to face her. "Oh, not to worry, child. They are the kindest, most generous young men you'd ever meet. A bit rambunctious at times but always the very picture of decorum and gentlemanly behavior. You should be quite fond of them, I should think." 

Devonny considered this. "I shall endeavor to stay out of their way as much as possible." 

"If you like," Moira said. She set a cup of tea in front of Devonny. "Now drink, child. You look in need of some nourishment." 

Devonny smiled gratefully and set the teacup to her lips. 

Moira continued talking. "Now you will have your own room. There's a small bedroom for you in the far wing of the house where you can stay. Our last serving girl stayed there. As for your duties, we shan't need you for mending or sewing, the young masters send all their tailoring out to be done but perhaps some linens now and again. But we will need you to help serve the table, and the young men are wont to entertain often. In that case we shall need you then as well." 

Devonny nodded. She opened her mouth to speak when the sound of barks and deep male laughter filled the foyer outside the door. 

Moira's face broke into a smile and she stood. "The young Masters must be back. Come and meet them."

Devonny hurriedly stood and removed her bonnet, smoothing her hair pulled back into a bun though a few dark curls refused to comply and escaped to frame her face and the nape of her neck. She smoothed her skirts as she followed Moira into the foyer. She pushed open the door only to be nearly knocked from her feet as she heard an excited yip. A large greyhound pawed at her excitedly. 

A deep masculine voice bellowed, "Milo! Here now!" The sleek animal immediately dropped back to all fours and trotted obediently along with another towards his master's voice. Two tall young men stood in the entryway, their long-legged pets coming to mill around them. 

Devonny halted uncertainly where she stood. 

One of the men grinned at her and strode purposefully toward her. He stuck out his hand smiling, "Elijah Davenport, pleased to meet you."

Devonny flushed. Lord, he was handsome. She found herself gazing into the bluest pair of eyes she'd ever seen. They were an impossible shade of azure blue, tinted with streaks of grey that were long lashed and framed to perfection . He was handsome; tall, muscular, blue-eyed and golden blonde. His warm palm enveloped her hand making her feel impossibly small as he towered over her. 

"Miss?" he was still grinning at her.

Devonny blinked at him only to realize that she was staring. "Oh," she flushed and dropped a small curtsy as he released her hand and decidedly fixed her gaze on his shirt front. "Miss Devonny Clarke, sir." 

He chuckled, a sound that seemed to rumble through his chest. "Sir? Elijah will do, lass." 

"Master Elijah." she repeated uncertainly and another chuckle escaped his lips. 

"Fair enough," he conceded. "You seem intent to hold me to decorum," and she felt his fingers slip beneath her chin and lift her face to his once more, "Ah, don't hide such eyes from me." And she lifted her gaze to his once more, honey-gold meeting azure blue. 

"Eli, let the girl alone," came an equally deep baritone from behind him. 

Devonny's gaze flickered to his brother. 

Gabriel Davenport felt his heart turn in his chest as a pair of startling golden eyes slid to him. He made a curt nod of his head before abruptly striding from the room. 

Elijah Davenport laughed. "And that was my charming brother, Gabriel." He stepped back from her and made a small mock bow. "Welcome to our household, Miss Devonny." And then turned on his heel and followed after his brother. ***

Gabriel Davenport raked a hand through his dark locks and he strode back and forth across the study attempting to get a reign on his emotions. He grimaced. What the hell was wrong with him. Why this reaction to this scrap of a girl? She was a pretty thing, yes. But he was used to being around beautiful women. He and his brother were some of the most sought after men in London, and were much the object of sighs and blushes of the whole of young women of marrying age in society. The Davenport brothers were the most handsome and wealthiest bachelors in London and as such they did not want for appealing feminine company in any circumstance. 

But this girl was truly lovely. Every feature complemented the other, and each was arguably nigh perfect. None of his former or present mistresses came near to her in the flawlessness of her countenance. He'd always believed fair skinned, fair-haired women were the most beautiful, the most delicate and alluring. By all the saints, not so. Her hair was black and thick, her eyes an incredible amber shade, almond-shaped and sinfully long-lashed. Her skin was smooth and golden brown, her nose piquant, her mouth full and tempting. Her body was so precisely perfect in its wondrous curves that he felt his loins tighten. He could not recall ever having such a strong reaction to a woman. 

He stopped near his desk and dropped into his armchair. And Christ, she was to be living under his roof. He dropped his head back and groaned his frustration.

Eli leaning against the doorway as he watched his brother. He had never seen him so unsettled. His usually suave and in control older brother seemed a bit undone. "Problem Gabe?" 

Gabriel's gaze was once again veiled as his eyes slid to his brother. "Not at all. Perfectly fine." 

Eli sauntered into the study and seated himself behind the desk adjacent to Gabriel's. He crossed his legs and placed his booted heels on the desk smirked at his brother. "Our new serving girl is quite pretty yes?" 

Gabriel looked at Eli coolly. "You don't recognize her?" 

"Should I?" 

Gabriel shrugged. "She used to work at Madame Pomfrey's place." 

Elijah let out a burst of laughter. "What? She's a light skirt?" 

Gabriel shook her head. "No. I believe she was a housekeeper. Moira said she was in some kind of trouble."

Eli's brows rose in obvious interest. "Ah. And she seemed like such a shy little thing...interesting."

"Indeed."

***

Margaret Morrissey watched as Devonny packed up the last of her things into a trunk which the footman carried out to the waiting coach. 

Margaret smiled at the girl. Margaret had taken Devonny in when she was but eleven years old. A wealthy client of hers had found the child living on the street, dirty and half starved. Something about the vulnerability in the girl's eyes had touched Margaret, even as hardened as she was, and she had taken the girl in. A brothel was no place for a child, but the orphanages had no interest or charitable spirit towards a little colored girl, and Margaret was certain that a place with her was better than life on the streets. Yet despite being exposed to Margaret's lifestyle and the brothel, the girl never seemed to lose the sense of innocence that hung about her. Margaret had guarded that innocence as best she could and so she was sending her away. 

The foundling had grown into a young woman who was too beautiful for her own good and who had begun to attract too much attention from her male clientele. Margaret had come to care deeply for the girl, who was like a daughter to her when Margaret had had no children of her own. So she was sending her to her older sister where she would be safe. 

Margaret blotted her eyes with a silk kerchief and held her arms wide. "Darling," she hiccupped. 

Devonny smiled and went into the woman's arms. 

Margaret was weeping openly now. Her voice was warbled. "Oh, you will write won't you? Don't come by and soil your reputation, but we will see each other won't we?"

Devonny pulled back and smiled fondly at the woman who had shown her naught but love and kindness over the years. "I am not moving out of the country, Margaret. I won't be far at all. I'll simply send a note round and we will see each other quite often, I'm sure." She touched the older woman's cheek. "Margaret..." she paused, tears welling in her own eyes. "Thank you for everything you have done for me. Without you I don't know..."

"Shhh," Margaret shook her head. "You'll make me weep some more and I won't be able to stop." 

"Miss?" The coachman was in the hall. "Is that all?"

Devonny turned to the bed and picked up her bundle from the bed. "Yes, I'm ready." She embraced Margaret quickly once more before following the coachman outside and allowing him to hand her into the coach.

Devonny settled herself inside and leaned back in the seat. She rested her head against the window and watched the scenery of the London streets pass by. But her mind was not on the scenery. Her mind was on her new employers. Elijah Davenport was an obvious charmer. His good looks and his charm were apparent, and he carried himself as one who was used to feminine adoration. The other brother was more of a mystery. He was tall and powerfully built, and was the opposite of his brother in looks. Gabriel was perhaps the more handsome of the two but whereas Elijah Davenport was fair haired and light-eyed and almost to the point of being pretty, Gabriel was wholly masculine. He was tall and muscular. His hair was dark as sable. His eyes were a deep emerald green and fringed by dark thick lashes beneath dark brows. His nose was straight and patrician above full sensual lips. 

A muscle had ticked in his strong jaw when her gaze had shifted to him upon their meeting. She had felt that he was looking into the very core of her being as he had gazed at her and had found her lacking. The disappointment she had felt at the censure in his gaze unsettled her more than she cared to consider at the moment. 

Devonny sat up as the coach pulled to a halt in front of the Davenport mansion. She hugged her bundle to her chest as she stepped from the coach. She was let into the house and the two coachmen followed with her trunk through the maze-like hallways to a room at the end of a hall in the western part of the house. The room was not very large and with but one small circular window it had been changed even since she had been shown it the day before. A four poster bed of dark cherry wood had replaced the small narrow previous bed. A dresser, small vanity, and writing desk and chair had been set in the room along with an armchair by the small fire place. There was a silver mirror, comb. and brush set by on the vanity. She trailed her fingers over it reverently. It was all very fine. A woven rug was in the center of the floor to keep the chill away. 

The two coachmen set her trunk at the end of the bed and tipped their hats to her as they left. Devonny set the bundle down at the edge of the bed, before sitting there herself. She opened the bundle and spread it to pour over her most prized possessions: a pair of peridot earrings that Margaret had gotten for her the year before for her eighteenth birthday, a small cowrie shell on a black velvet ribbon which was all she remembered of her mother, a small pocket book of Shakespeare's sonnets, two ivory hair combs, and a set of handkerchiefs embroidered with her own initials, a corked ink pot and a small cedar box with a set of quills. She ran her fingers absently over the contents when there was a knock at the door. She tied the bundle back up and stood. "Yes?"

Moira entered the room and smiled as she looked around appraisingly. "My, it looks quite nice in here." 

Devonny returned the smile. 

"He came to look at the room after you had left and decided that it wouldn't do at all, so he had some furniture ordered up right away."

"He?" Devonny inquired. 

Moira bustled in and set some clothes down on the bed. "The young master of course. I told you that he was quite kind." 

Devonny nodded absently. Elijah. 

Moira gestured to the clothes she had set on the bed. "This is your clothing that you should wear whenever in the service of the young masters. Your own clothes, you may wear whenever you like on your own time, child." Moira shrugged. "I suppose you should change and I may set you to task." 

Devonny nodded as Moira left her alone. She undressed and dressed in what was to be her new attire. It was a black conservative, high-necked gown with a row of tiny buttons down the front and a stark white apron. She removed her bonnet and twisted her hair into a bun atop her head before setting a white mobcap upon her head, tucking stray curls beneath only to have them straggle free once more. 

She took the other dresses and aprons and folded them carefully into the dresser drawer before drawing a deep breath she headed to the kitchen. Moira grinned at her. "You do wonders for that drab outfit. Pity that such a pretty young thing should wear such dark colors." 

Devonny shrugged. "I don't mind it." 

Moira instructed her on the goings on of the kitchen and of her daily tasks about the household which would include dusting and the arrangement of flowers as well as whatever cleaning might need be done. Every other day she was to walk to the nearby market and pick up the order meats and produce for meals as well as anything else that the young masters might need. And as of right this moment she was to see to them in the study where they would be going over their reports for the day, and pour them their brandy if they so liked. 

Devonny's heels echoed on the marble floor as she made her way toward the study. She knocked tentatively at the door and entered when a deep male voice beckoned her inside. 

Devonny entered the massive library. The two Davenport brothers looked up at her from a piles of papers and maps spread across their desks. They were both in their shirtsleeves their hair loose and unruly. 

"Sirs," she curtsied and kept her gaze on the tips of her kid boots. "Is there anything you require that I could get for you?" 

Elijah's handsome face spread into a grin. "I'd like a glass of port please." 

Devonny nodded and glanced at Gabriel Davenport. "And you sir?" 

He did not look up from his papers. "Same." 

Devonny went to the liquor cabinet in the corner and poured two glasses of port into crystal snifters and set them upon the tray and delivering one to Elijah and then Gabriel. "Was there anything else, sirs?"

Gabriel glanced up at her, his dark eyes coolly searching her face momentarily before returning his attention to his papers. "No, nothing." 

She turned to Elijah. "Sir?" 

He grinned at her and shook his head. "No, thank you, Devonny. You may go. I'm sure you would like to go get settled." 


Devonny Ch. 01



Devonny curtsied once again and turned to leave. She paused in the door way and turned back to them. "Sir?" She was looking at Elijah. 

"Yes, Devonny?"

A faint smile lit her face. "I just wanted to say thank you. My room is lovely." 

Elijah cocked his head slightly to the side and leaned back in his chair as he perused her, his bright eyes lit with interest. "Your room?"

Devonny nodded. 

Elijah sent a quick look at Gabriel who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Elijah grinned at her. "Yes, of course. You're very welcome." 

She favored him once again with a brilliant smile before she left them. 

Elijah leaned back in his chair and regarded Gabriel who seemed intent on not meeting his gaze. "Her room is lovely?"

Gabriel continued writing. "I went to inspect her room. It was insufficient so I ordered some new furniture to replace the old." 

Elijah laughed. "My God," his voice was incredulous, "you're quite smitten."

Gabriel lifted his head and fixed his dark stoic gaze on his brother. "Don't be absurd. A little mulatto girl is hardly enough to pique my interest, little brother."

The corner of Elijah's mouth lifted in an amused smile . "If you say so." 

Gabriel bristled perceptibly. His only answer was an indignant snort before he returned his attentions to the papers before him. 

Devonny crept away from the doorway, ashamed and her heart feeling heavy. Her first day as a maid and she was already indulging in their archetypical behavior of listening at doorways. But more troubling was her reaction to her employer's appraisal of her. 'A little mulatto girl, hardly enough to pique his interest.' She went quietly back to her room, her heart feeling as though it weighed heavily in her chest and resolved to think no more on Gabriel Davenport.



Devonny Ch. 02



Unable to sleep, Devonny swung her legs over the side of the bed dropped her feet to the cool hardwood floor. She pulled her shawl from the armchair and wrapped it around her shoulders covering her night gown. She silently down padded down the hall, carefully down the stairs and through the kitchen to the back door that led out into the garden. It was well into the night and the sky was clear, the stars small pinpricks of light in the sky. She quietly closed the door behind her and sat down on the back stoop. 

She drew up her legs and rested her chin on her knees as she surveyed the back yard. In the far corner of the lawn was a comely carriage house with an adjacent stable where the horses were housed. There looked to be a small apartment above the carriage house, the flicker of a lantern attested to its inhabitant. 

There was a small eating area closer to the house and rosebushes trimmed the entire perimeter of the yard. Devonny lifted her gaze back to the sky and considered the stars. 

"Making a wish?" a deep voice startled her from her thoughts and she hurriedly made to stand. 

"Whoa, be still girl. I mean you no harm."

Devonny uncertainly did as she was bidden, pulling her shawl more tightly around her. 

A tall male figure emerged from the shadows around the carriage house and strode towards her. He was tall with dark mahogany skin, dark eyes that were slightly slanted above finely sculpted cheekbones. His mouth was full and perfectly shaped, and was at the present curved upwards in a smile. He was wearing a loose cambric shirt open at the throat and buckskin trousers tucked into tall black riding boots. He nodded to the place next to her on the stoop. "May I?"

Devonny nodded, still eyeing him warily as he sat next to her. He smelled of soap and tobacco. He grinned at her extended his hand. "The name's Prince Adams. You must be Devonny." 

Devonny shook his hand, feeling more at ease that he knew who she was already. "Devonny Clarke," she told him. 

His grin broadened. "Moira failed to tell me you were so nice to look at." 

Devonny laughed and shook her head. "And you are?"

Prince released her hand and nodded towards the stable. "I take care of the horses, sometimes drive the coach, sometimes do a little gardening...I'm mostly a handyman of sorts."

Devonny nodded in understanding. "And how long have you been here?"

Prince shrugged and grinned. "Since I was a boy. Grew up with Gabe and Eli." He shrugged. "And no one can train a horse like I can."

Devonny started at the overtly familiar use of their names which Prince noted and chuckled. "Like I said, I grew up with the 'young masters'. We had all lost our parents and all had the same mischievous spirit. Moira, Miles and our tutors were hard pressed to keep us under control." 

"Tutors?" 

Prince nodded. "Yep, the former master and missus wished me to be educated along with their boys. After they died and I was old enough to make my own way in the world, Gabe and Eli asked me to stay on and help them raise some horses. They have large stables in the country. Seemed like pretty good deal to me." 

Devonny smiled at him but her voice held a hint of sadness. "I suppose it does." 

He looked at her seriously. "You not happy to be here, miss? I heard you got yourself into a scrap." 

Devonny smiled wryly. "Does everyone know that?"

Prince shrugged. "Small household."

Devonny mirrored his shrug. "I'm quite content being here. I just don't think master Gabriel is too fond of me. I don't think he appreciates my colorful past. 

Prince frowned thoughtfully. "Well that doesn't sound like Gabe at all."

Devonny's voice was dry. "Apparently I elicit a very special and singular response." 

Prince looked thoughtful at this, a slight frown marring his smooth features. 

Devonny wrapped her shawl tighter around her and made to stand. Prince shot up immediately and offered his hand. 

She thanked him and smiled at him. "Thank you, Prince. Good night."

He nodded his head in response. "Goodnight Miss Devonny." And he watched her slip back in the house and shut the door quietly behind her.

*** Devonny rose early and washed quickly before slipping into her gown and tying on her apron. She scooped her dark locks into a loose bun and placed the mobcap atop her head. 

She went into the kitchen where Moira was readying preparations for breakfast. Moira handed her a bowl of steaming oats. "Eat up, child. You'll need some nourishment before getting started today. Not much to do really, but a good breakfast will help." 

After eating she rose to help Moira with the cooking. When it was finished, Moira loaded a tray and handed into Devonny's hands and gave her a gentle push towards the door. 

Devonny walked across the foyer and into the dining room. She put the tray down onto the pristine white linen table cloth and artfully began to arrange plates of fruit, breads and meats. She carefully set two places at opposite ends of the table, neatly laying out the assorted china and flatware before making her way back to the kitchen. She could hear footsteps descending the stairs from the upper level as the door closed behind her. Moira handed her a pot of tea and shooed her back out. 

Devonny took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She would feign detachment even if she did not feel it. The two men were in their seats at opposite ends of the table when she entered. She went first to Gabriel, him being the oldest, and silently filled his tea cup. She then went to Eli and did the same. She then strode to mid-table and stepped backwards a few paces until she was standing near the wall, waiting lest they make some request of her, her gaze on the toes of her kid boots. 

Gabriel glanced up as she entered the room. Her back was ramrod straight, her lovely face set in grim determination. She looked as if she were about to walk the plank and was determined to do so with impeccable grace. He struggled to keep the slight amused grin from his face. His brother, he noted with a twinge of indignation, was watching her in open fascination even as she stepped back to wait upon them. 

Gabriel frowned deeply and looked to his meal and the morning lists from the ships that had come into dock that morning. But his attention could not remain focused. His gaze kept wandering to the girl standing almost against the wall, her hands folded in front of her, her head bent and he realized that he hated seeing her that way. He did not like the dark garb nor her somber expression. He wanted to see her in bright colors in a gown cut to show off the graceful line of her shoulders and the gentle swell of her bosom. He wanted to see her smile, hear her laugh. He gritted his teeth. This would not do at all. 

"Miss Devonny," he leaned back in his chair, his gaze intent on her. She stepped forward and lifted her golden gaze to his and once again he found himself feeling unsettled by the very small gesture of her lifting her eyes to meet his own. He found himself considering their strange color against the honey-brown color of her skin and the dark fringe of lashes that framed them to perfection. His gaze absently drifted to her mouth. By God, she had the most beautiful mouth he'd ever seen. Her lips were moving. 

"Sir?"

He blinked and cleared his throat. "You need not wait on us hand and foot Devonny. Should we require you, we will send for you."

She merely nodded mutely, her dark lashes sweeping downward, dropped a small curtsy and silently left the room. 

Gabriel's frown deepened as he sat back in his seat and continued perusing the lists. 

Eli watched the exchange with interest. ***

As Moira had told her, Devonny was able to finish the majority of her chores by early afternoon. And as such she would have some time to herself before the young masters returned home and she was expected to help with the preparation of dinner. 

Devonny chose to sit in the rocking chair on the porch off the kitchen with her book of Shakespeare's sonnets. The day was bright and lovely, a rare occasion for London, and the air was warm. She loosed the top buttons of her bodice and took the mobcap from her hair, unwinding her bun and shaking loose the dark captive curls to fall about her shoulders. She leaned back in the chair, her legs tucked underneath her fingering the well worn pages of her book. It was how Gabriel found her. 

So engrossed was she in her reading that she did not notice Gabriel entering the back gate and stabling his own horse. He had been about to enter the house through the French doors led to the parlor when he saw her there. 

She did not seem cognizant of him at all and so he found himself loathe to move lest he disturb the vision she presented. She was yet dressed in black as she sat in the chair, her legs tucked beneath her, but she had unbuttoned her bodice which parted to reveal the smooth column of her throat. Her dark hair was unbound and falling over her shoulders and against the black cloth he found that her hair was not black as he had thought but a deep brown streaked with auburn where the sun touched it. Her face was as calm as he had seen it, a small smile curving upon her lips as she read, her eyes bright with amusement and something else. 

She turned held the book with one hand turning the page with the other. She then brought her fingertips to her lips, as her lips moved as she read the words softly, too softly for him to make out. A soft flush had stolen upon her cheeks and still she smiled that small mysterious smile. What the devil was she reading?

He stepped silently up onto the porch. She still did not notice him. He cleared his throat she started, her mouth forming a silent 'o' as she stood abruptly, the book falling to her feet. "Master Davenport," her words came out in a rush. 

He smiled faintly at her unease. In some small way it pleasured him to know that he had unsettled her in at least some small fraction of the way in which she unsettled him by her very presence. He stepped closer to her, his voice softening though his dark gaze had lost none of its intensity. "What are you reading that makes you blush so Devonny?" he questioned as he bent to retrieve the fallen book which lay open, its spine facing up. "Some silly novel?" The cover was so worn he could not make out the words. He thumbed through the pages. She was looking at him curiously and he was standing very close to her, he realized, but he didn't wish to withdraw just yet. 

He carefully turned the pages, "Shakespeare?" his voice was soft and tinged with a teasing quality. "Is it Shakespeare who makes you flush so lovely a color?"

She was still looking at him in that silent considering way of hers, but when she opened her mouth to speak she stumbled over her words "I--I..." and her voice trailed off. 

Gabriel grinned rakishly at her and Devonny thought she might faint. He stepped closer to her, so close that she could feel the heat of him through her dress. He slid one arm around her waist, holding her that she could not run as part of her mind bid her while the other begged her to stay. He gazed down into her stunned upturned face. The book of Shakespeare was still in his free hand, dangling at his side as he opened his mouth and his deep baritone washed over her like honey over stones. 

'Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments; love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no, it is an ever-fixèd mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his heighth be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.'

Devonny's eyes drifted closed as she listened to him recite the sonnet, feeling completely open and vulnerable to the man who held her in his arms and finding that she liked the feeling very much.

Her eyes remained closed as he finished. He was so close she could feel his breath feathering against her lips. The flush had returned to her face. Perhaps it was more than Shakespeare this time, he mused. They stood there; her eyes closed and motionless, while his gaze was perusing every detail of her face. His gaze was drawn to her slightly parted lips. He could feel her in his arms, pliant. He had no business kissing her and yet she had the most inviting mouth he had ever seen. 

"Devonny," her lids lifted to reveal her wondrous gaze and he stepped back taking her hand in his. Something flickered in her gaze. Disappointment? "There is something I would like to show you," he murmured and led her to the French doors where he had been about to enter the house. He pulled her inside and led her through the parlor to the study. 

He released her hand and gestured to the thousands of books that lined the shelves. "This is yours," he said, "for whenever you should like to use it. There's plenty...volumes upon volumes of Shakespeare and anything else you should set you mind to read." 

She gazed about her in wonder, her heart leaping at the possibility of being able to touch such treasures. Gabriel stepped closer to her once more, his face calm though emotion flickered in his dark gaze. He pulled her once again into his arms and he lifted a hand to brush the back of his knuckles over the smoothness of her cheek. 

"Devonny," his gaze was intent though his voice was soft. She had never heard such tenderness in a man's voice before. "Devonny," he said her name again. "I am going to kiss you now and it will be the very last time. We will never speak of it, understood?" he said. 

Devonny's breath caught in her throat as she gazed up at him. She was pressed against the unyielding hardness of his chest, completely enveloped in the warmth and safety that his body offered. Tears welled in her eyes at the loss of something she had yet begun to experience. But she nodded slowly, her gaze meeting his. 

Gabriel deliberately bent his head and laid his lips against hers as her eyelids fluttered and drifted closed. The kiss was soft at first. He kissed her lightly, his lips tracing hers before he deepened the kiss skillfully, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips begging entry. She clung to him as though her legs might crumble beneath her. Her lips parted and he pulled her tighter against him, delving into her mouth even as his member was hardening, anticipating the conquering of another entrance. To his surprise she curled her arms around him, her fingers burying in his hair and pulled him closer as she kissed him back with equal fervor. 

Devonny felt herself being lifted in his arms as he walked towards his desk, his mouth never losing contact with hers. He placed her to sit on the desk as he came to stand between her splayed thighs. Devonny's mind whirred. She had been kissed before, but never with such passion. And never had her body responded in such a way. Heat blossomed south of her belly button and her entire being seemed flooded with warmth. Her breasts ached and strained against her bodice as her heart hammered in her chest. As he pressed against her, his masculine hardness pressing intimately against her, he leaned over her yet still holding her tightly against him and she arched against his body. 

She moaned against his mouth and Gabriel drew back reluctantly and gazed down into her face. Her heavily lashed lids lifted to reveal her slightly dazed golden gaze. She was flushed, her lips becomingly swollen from his attentions. 

She was a lovely tussled sight and everything in him urged him to pull her dress up around her hips and take her there. The top buttons of her gown that were yet open revealed the heaving of her breasts that were still pressed intimately against his chest. He felt his cock swelling in his pants and he swore quietly before removing himself from her and pulling her to stand. Her hand trembled in his and she was gazing at him with her wide amber eyes. 

He stood gazing back at her mutely for a moment before pulling her gently into his arms once more. His touch was light this time. He tenderly brushed her dark curls back from her face. She closed her eyes as he leaned in. He softly brushed his lips over her brow and then her eyelids and then finally kissed her softly upon the mouth. 

He pulled back and released her and it was as though a veil had been cast over his dark gaze. Gone was the desire and tenderness that had been there only moments before. The cool dark gaze that she had become so accustomed to had returned. He stepped back from her and gave a slight bow. "Miss Devonny," he said quietly before turning on his heel and striding from the room leaving her quite alone to stare after him.

***

Devonny fretted. It had been weeks and Gabriel had not said a word that was not in keeping with their master-servant daily encounters and even in doing so he had hardly looked at her. 

Devonny however would catch herself staring at him while he seemed content to ignore her. She felt as though she had dreamed it all and perhaps their kiss in the library had never occurred at all. 

The day was bright and sunny, a light breeze blowing through the kitchen door left ajar, Devonny pressing the table linens while Moira way readying dinner. They were not alone. Three other cooks had been hired in order to help cook dinner for the party that was being held in the Davenport home that evening. Two other serving girls had been hired as well to see to the table. They were both young Irish women near to her own age with slight brogues. Annie and Leanna were their names. 

There were to be twenty guests arriving early for dinner which would be served. The remainder of the guests would be arriving later in the evening for cards and dancing. The house was bustling with activity. 

There would be smoking, cards and "men's talk" in the library. The large drawing room had been cleared of all furniture except for the satin seated chairs which were lined around the perimeter. A myriad of haughty valets had arrived who would see to the needs of the guests and make sure that their glasses were full and that their every bequest was answered. A string quartet was setting up at the far end of the drawing room. They were practicing their music and the house filled with sweet melody. Devonny gathered up the linens and bustled out into the foyer, dodging the men hurrying back and forth throughout the house as she made her way to the dining room. She spread the table linen and carefully began setting the places for the twenty guests, the other two serving girls joining her. The chandeliers had been polished to high shine and were being lit and the whole room was cast in a glittering light. 

When Devonny had finished she joined Moira in the kitchen, helping set platters and serving trays. 

All was accordingly ready when the first guests had begun to arrive. Moira ushered towards her room. "You must change quickly, child. Quickly!"

Devonny glanced at her over her shoulder. "Change? Into what?" 

"The young masters do not wish the household staff to wear their regular uniform." 

"Then what am I to wear?"

Moira herded Devonny into her room and the door closed behind her. 

On her bed lay a dress. It was black as her uniform had been but the cut of the gown was greatly different. It was a high waisted gown of the blackest velvet. The neckline was square cut and dipped lower in the front. The sleeves were three-quarter length, a row of tiny black buttons running from the cuff halfway to the elbow. Though the cut was simple, Devonny was not sure she had ever owned anything quite so fine. 

Black ribbons were laid beside the dress. 




Devonny Ch. 02



There was a knock at the door and Devonny let Annie and Leanna who were chatting gaily into the room to change into their identical gowns. They helped each other by buttoning the small row of buttons up the back of the gowns. Lastly they stepped into black slippers. The girls pulled their hair up on top of their heads in tightly wound buns. Devonny's riotous curls did not lend itself to such a smooth look. Rather, she took up the length of black ribbon and wound it twice around the crown of her head and tied a small bow at the nape of her neck and thus succeeded in holding the dark curls back from her face. 

When she exited into the kitchen Moira informed her that the dinner guests had arrived and been seated. Moira handed Devonny a bottle of wine and instructed her to keep an eye on the guests glasses and refill them but to use discretion and remain careful not to allow them to imbibe to the point of inebriation but never to refuse a guest any request. 

Devonny and the male butlers were lined in the doorway with covered platters, Leanna and Annie behind them with their own set of instructions. A male butler came to stand beside Devonny, he would carry the wine on its own tray whereas Devonny would serve it when necessary. 

Devonny followed the procession into the dining room where the massive length of the table was lined with guests. The men were all dressed impeccably, the women in the finest gowns of every Devonny had ever seen outside of a dressmakers display. The women at Madam Pomfrey's place had all garbed themselves in the most expensive of fabrics though they lacked the elegance of these gowns and the presence of these women here. They were born into wealth and thus assured of their place in the world. Devonny would have given anything to be assured of hers. 

Devonny made her way from guest to guest, the butler at her elbow. She made sure not to make eye contact anyone though Eli caught her eye and winked. She hid a smile. Gabriel, she was certain, was content to ignore her completely as usual. 

When she was finally able to retreat to her place near the wall, she allowed herself to discreetly peruse the guests. They were all very near to the ages of Eli and Gabriel themselves with the exception of an older gentleman here and there. 

The woman at Gabriel's right hand was a vision. She was skin was creamy and her blond locks glowed golden. Her gown was light blue silk and molded to her body contours She wore pearls about her neck and her bosom almost spilled out of the front of her gown, sculpted to perfection. She and Gabriel were talking and trading smiles. Devonny wondered if Gabriel recognized the obvious adoration in the woman's gaze. And she wondered if that adoration was reciprocated. Gabriel's face split into a smile, revealing even white teeth against tanned skin. It certainly looked as though he was equally enamored of her. 

Gabriel's gaze suddenly flickered to her suddenly, his gaze meeting hers. Their eyes held. Devonny was again found herself trapped by Gabriel Davenport's piercing dark gaze. His gaze searched her face before traveling lower to peruse her bosom swelling against the neckline of the gown. The gown showed off the litheness of her figure quite nicely and the golden color of her skin. He supposed he might as well look his fill before she was back in the black gown buttoned up to her chin and her exquisite skin was once again covered. 

When his gaze had traveled back to her face she quickly averted her gaze and busied herself filling the glass of a guest. Gabriel returned his attentions to the lovely Miss Abigail Harding at his side though he allowed his gaze to leisurely wander back to Devonny on occasion throughout the remainder of the meal. 

Dinner had finished and the string quartet had begun playing. More guests had flooded into the house and couples lined the floor and moved through the complicated dance steps. Devonny was now moving about those milling around the outskirts of the room offering trays of sweet meats and pastries to the guests. When her tray had run low she returned to the kitchen. 

Moira beamed at her. "Goodness, child. You look dead on your feet." 

Devonny merely smiled thinly as she began placing pastries on another tray. Moira stopped her hand. "Why don't you take your ease for a bit. The smaller parlor across from the dancing is closed off but you can go in there and listen to the music." 

Devonny started to protest when Moira merely shook her head, "Go."

Devonny smiled and placed a quick kiss on Moira's pink cheek before slipping out into the foyer and then quietly moving into the smaller parlor. 

There she sank into the settee. She slipped the black slippers off and tucked her stockinged feet beneath her. The leaned her head on her hand and listened to the strains of music playing. 

The door creaked open and Eli stepped into the room, making a stilling motion when Devonny would have risen. Instead he came and sat beside her, sinking into the settee with a sigh. 

A smile curved on her lips. "I see you're shirking your duties as a host," she said, her voice holding a teasing quality. 

Eli laughed and shook his head. "Gabriel is the good host at these things," Eli said, "I'd rather be at the pub." 

Devonny laughed at his blunt honesty and he turned to face her. "Ah, she laughs," he grinned and she shrugged. 

They sat a moment merely looking at one another before Eli sprang to his feet. A devilish grin on his face, he turned to her and made a courtly bow, "A dance, my lady?" 

Devonny burst out laughing. "I barely know the steps." But Eli was tugging her to her feet. 

"I'll teach you." Pulling her close he whirled her about the room until they were both dizzy with laughter. But then he removed his jacket and laid it over the back of the settee. His face took on a mock sternness as he straightened and offered his hand. Devonny slipped her hand into his. Carefully guiding her, Eli led her through the complicated steps and turns. 

Eli smiled faintly watched as Devonny caught on quickly and moved gracefully through the steps. Their hands touched as they came together then turned and moved apart. They came back together palms meeting and standing close. 

"Eli," Gabriel's voice startled her. She faltered in her steps and tripped over the hem of her gown. Eli pulled her against him to steady her holding her there yet when she made a small movement to disentangle herself. Eli's arm slid around her waist and he held her still. Face heating, Devonny stared up at Elijah then averted her gaze as Gabriel spoke.

"We have guests, Eli." His voice was stony. 

Eli shrugged not releasing Devonny. "I was just taking my ease with Devonny, here, and enjoying the music and her lovely company."

Gabriel scowled. Eli had not yet released Devonny. His jaw tightened and he felt his hands curling into fists at his side. "I'll see you back with our guests." And he turned and stalked from the room. 

Devonny pulled abruptly out of Eli's arms. "What are you doing?" Her voice was indignant. 

Eli shrugged and reached for her again pulling her close. "Shhh, Devonny," he soothed, holding her against him. She stilled suddenly. His voice was soft. "I am sorry, Devonny." 

She glared up at him. "Why did you do that?" She tugged out of his grasp and plunked down onto the settee. 

Eli sighed and sat down next to her. "My brother and I..." he began. "We have always been competitors in all that we do." 

Devonny's gaze narrowed. "And what does that have to do with me?"

Eli looked chagrinned. "It has everything to do with you at the moment." Eli continued. "My brother, though he is loath to admit it, seems to have a particularly strong attraction to you which he does not appear to understand nor care to consider at length." 

Devonny scowled. "I'm aware of that, thank you. But I would much prefer it if you would leave me out of your sport and not torment him so." 

Eli stared at her. His eyes narrowed on her, his look serious. "You are aware?"

Her eyes widened realizing what she had said. She stammered, "Pardon me, sir, I must see to some things..." she made to stand only to have him catch her elbow and draw her back down beside him. 

A frown marred his brow. "You are aware?" he repeated. 

Devonny sighed as she folded her hands in her lap and her eyes drifted closed. "I am aware and I must not speak of it."

"Devonny--" 

She shook her head vehemently. She felt his fingers slip beneath her chin and lift her face. She lifted her lids and found her face very close to his. 

His voice was soft. "Has he done something to you?"

She drew back from him slightly. "I have promised...he bade me never to mention it again." 

Eli looked taken aback. He looked both tender and concerned. He took her hand in his. "He did not..." his voice trailed off. "He did not force himself upon you did he?"

"No," Devonny seized his hand and faced him. "No he did not. He would not." 

Eli looked at her seriously and nodded. He shrugged sheepishly. "I am sorry if you feel distressed at my attention, Devonny. But you see, the irony of the situation has not been lost on me and I feel compelled to take advantage of it." 

She lifted on dark brow. "Irony?"

He sighed and sank lower on the settee. "I suppose I must tell you then..." his voice was soft. "When I was a boy, barely nineteen, I fell in love with a girl. She was the loveliest thing I'd ever seen, Devonny. Her name was Elena Marrow and I loved her instantly from the moment I laid eyes on her." He smiled faintly at the memory. "I saw her in a shop window one day. She was a seamstress. She loved me too...and I intended to marry her. But Gabriel would not hear of it. He said it would ruin our family name." His bright gaze darkened. "I intended to defy him. We were going to elope but when I went to the shop I found it boarded up and empty." 

Devonny was gazing at him intently. "Where did she go? What happened to her?" 

Eli's distant gaze slid to her. "Gabriel paid her father an ungodly sum, more than he'd make in a lifetime and more than he could refuse. He packed up his family, Elena and her mother, and left for the Americas. I did not hear from her again and had no way of finding her." 

Devonny slipped her hand into his palm which lay upturned on his knee and squeezed gently. Her voice was soft. "I'm sorry, Elijah."

He gave her hand an answering squeeze and smiled. "So you see, I find his interest in you ironic. That my brother should find himself falling--" he halted. "That my brother should find himself so distracted by someone he would find so...unsuitable...it is my primary source of amusement at the moment. So perhaps you could allow me my amusement a little while longer."

She looked at him steadily, her amber gaze searching his face. "Perhaps," she said levelly. 

Eli grinned and she returned his smile. 

She held up her hand. "But..." she said her voice growing serious, "This job is all that I have. I have no one and nowhere to go should your brother decide to terminate my employment. The moment your play threatens my place here, is the moment that it halts." 

He nodded solemnly. "I understand." 

Devonny smiled faintly. "I should be getting back to my duties," she said rising smoothly from her seat. 

Eli stood quickly. "Of course," he said. "Far be it is for me to distract you.:

Devonny laughed. "Go back to your party, Eli." 

Eli once again gave a rakish grin and a mock bow. Catching her off guard he caught her around the waist and pulled her against him to press a kiss against brow. 

Chuckling at her shocked expression, he turned and swaggered from the room. 

Devonny rolled her eyes. Was every man in this family out of his mind?

She returned to the kitchen. 

Moira glanced up at her. "Well you do look rather enlivened dear."

Devonny grinned and took up a tray of champagne flutes and retreated towards the ballroom. 

Devonny carefully threaded her way through the crowd offering champagne to the guests.

The chandeliers glittered and the sweet melody of the string ensemble floated on the air. Ladies' laughter tinkled and there was a swirl of colors as the couples moved through the complicated steps. 

Devonny moved deftly among the standing guests and then wandered towards the library with Annie and Leanna. The air was heavy with cigar smoke and raucous laughter. There were no women, only men at their card tables. 

Devonny and the other two women set their trays of champagne down only to replace the trays contents with port and brandy. Some of the men hardly looked at her as she filled their classes. Others eyed her with more than passing interest.

Devonny moved to the table where Gabriel sat as relaxed as she'd ever seen him. His dark hair fell across his brow and he tossed back his drink as he grinned and dealt the next hand laughing with his companions. He glanced up at her and nodded to his empty glass. Devonny filled his glass and moved to the man at his right.

"Well, hello." 

Devonny started, nearly dropping her tray as an arm closed around her waist. She twisted, setting the tray down on the table, as she steadied herself with her hand on a strong broad shoulder. Devonny gazed down at the man who held her half kneeling against his thigh. 

He was young, not much older than she with light brown hair streaked with gold and swept precariously back from his face. Bright grey eyes assessed her from a startlingly handsome face. 

He wore an officer's jacket, his cravat beneath undone. He grinned up at her, his gaze searching her face. "I don't believe we've met," he mused. 

Devonny did a mental eye roll but smiled faintly and feigned a fittingly demure expression. "No, sir, we have not."

"Captain Andrew Roetke," he grinned. "And you are?"

"Uninterested," Devonny retorted. 

She gasped at her own boldness, clapping a hand over her mouth and flushing with embarrassment. 

The men at the table erupted into raucous laughter. Andrew Roetke's grin broadened. "Touché," he conceded. He took her hand in his and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "Fair enough then, mysterious maiden. I release you."

His arm slid from around her waist and she stood, smoothing her skirts. She glanced at Gabriel whose dark gaze was lit with laughter. A smile curving on her full lips, she deftly refilled Andrew Roetke's glass and moved onto the other guests. The men returned to their game and Gabriel beckoned her to his side. 

She bent close to hear him. "You may retire, Devonny if you like. The other two young ladies as well. I will have the valets take over here." 

Devonny withdrew feeling eyes on her the whole way. She wondered if a particular emerald gaze was among those appraising gazes.



Devonny Ch. 03



It was with a sigh of relief that Devonny slipped her nightgown over her head and pulled her hair from the coif on top of her head. The dark curls spilled around her shoulders and she absently combed her fingers through the locks. It was well into the early hours of the morning, though she had been allowed to retire, she helped the rest of the staff make sure that the house had been returned to it's former state before returning to own her room. 

And yet despite her physical exhaustion she found herself unable to quiet her mind enough to fall asleep. She thumbed through her meager collection of books and sighed. She'd read them all backwards and forwards. 

A small smile lit her face. She did, however have permission to access to a veritable treasure trove of books . She carefully lit a candle and slid her feet into her slippers and draped a shawl over her nightgown. 

The house was dark and silent as she made her way down the hall and then into the library. She lit an oil lamp wit her candle casting the room in dull light. Her fingertips trailed over the spines of books until she found the collection of Shakespeare and pulled Much Ado About Nothing from the shelf. She smiled, running her fingers over the lovely leathern cover.

She then blew out the lamp and took up her candle once more and moved to return to her room. She padded silently down the hallway, her head already in the book when she bumped into a tall male frame. 

She shrieked, dropping the book and the candle. 

"Good God, woman." Gabriel snatched up the candle before the flame went out. 

Devonny bent quickly and retrieved the book. "Good God, woman?" she retorted. She tossed her hair over her shoulder in indignation. "Well, I'm not the one roaming around in the dark." 

"This has been my home since childhood. I have no need to light my way." He frowned at her in the candlelight. "Have you always been such a saucy little piece or is it the influence of my brother's company?" 

She smiled thinly, fixing her face into a becomingly innocent expression. "Was there something you wished, sir?"

His muscular frame relaxed a bit and he shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. It would seem that I had the same idea you had. That and a cup of tea." 

"The tea, I may help you with," and she stepped around him heading back towards the kitchen. 

He followed. "I can manage on my own." 

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "It's no problem. I wouldn't be doing my job if I allowed you to pour your own tea." she answered as they entered the kitchen. 

She set the her book on the table and then turned and took the candle from him to light the oil lamp on the table. 

He sank into the chair at the kitchen table and watched as she began heating water. Devonny glanced at him as she moved about the kitchen, removing two teacups from the cupboard and then moving about to gather milk from the ice bin as well as sugar, honey, and lemon.

His dark hair was free from it's usually coaxed back waves and fell about his collar. He wore a loose cambric shirt open to the middle of his chest revealing the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen. He wore dark breaches tucked into dark boots. 

She poured his tea and set it before him with a small saucer of milk. She stood a moment uncertainly before turning and pouring her own cup. He was the master of the house taking his tea in the kitchen. Where then was she supposed to sit? She stood awkwardly near the stove, her teacup and saucer in her hands. 

As if reading her thoughts, he chuckled. The warmth of his laughter washed over her. "Please sit, Devonny. There need be no formality when it is just the two of us."

She smiled and took her seat across from him. He picked up the book on the table and smiled faintly. "Much Ado About Nothing," he mused. "Shakespeare again? You are quite fond of his works it seems."

"His comedies, mostly," she answered as she squeezed lemon into her tea and then added a bit of honey. 

"And why is that?" he asked eyeing her with interest. 

She lifted the cup to her lips and shrugged. "Everything is always such a mess, and it seems as though nothing will ever be put to rights but everything ends happily in the end."

"And you're seeking that happy ending? No affection for his tragedies?" he asked teasingly. 

Devonny met his gaze momentarily before looking to her cup as she traced her fingertips absently around the rim. "I've had enough tragedy in my life. I prefer not to make it the subject of my leisure as well."

Gabriel felt a constricting in his chest at her words and the change in her demeanor. He had meant only to tease her and make her smile. "I'm sorry that you have had such tragedy in your life, Devonny." He said softly. "I did not mean to open old wounds." 

She stirred a bit more honey into her tea. "They are just that, sir. Old wounds. Nothing more." " It's Gabriel," he corrected. Gabriel's gaze searched her face before his gaze drifted to her movements and the lemon and honey."Good Lord," he said. "What are you doing to your tea?"

Devonny laughed and glanced at him looking chagrinned.. "I know. How very un-British of me, defiling my tea this way." She took a sip before setting her cup down. "My mother was from the Americas," she said.

"Ah," he smiled. "From the former colonies."

"A slave."

He lowered his gaze to his own cup. "I'm sorry." 

She looked at him. "Do not apologize. From what I know of your family they have always been for the abolition of slavery." 

He nodded absently and she continued.

"She came to England with her master. He..." Devonny sighed. "He abused her. And I am the product of that abuse. When she found she was pregnant with me she used the benefit of English soil to sue for her freedom...you know, it had been done before but not by a woman and she had some support from prominent abolitionists. But when it looked like things were not going well she fled with the help of friends to the countryside where she wouldn't be found. Her owner looked everywhere for her but could not find her and eventually had to leave England."

Gabriel glanced at her. "And so your mother found her freedom?"

Devonny smiled wanly and shook her head. "Momentarily, only to die in childbirth. And I...I spent my childhood in the countryside with an older couple, a minister and his wife, Americans. I was happy, but when they passed away from sickness I was sent to an orphanage here in London."

Gabriel winced. He knew the condition of the city orphanages. They were much like prisons, the conditions deplorable.

"I ran away," she said, "and spent the time from when I was eight until I was eleven on the streets." 

Gabriel reached across the table and took her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles. 

"A man found me, a gentleman. He was kind and I begged him not to take me back to the orphanage. I told them how they treated me there. He took me to Margaret instead. She was his mistress, I think. She was more wonderful to me than I could have ever asked. And then that...this man came and took that from me too."

She gazed at her hand in his as his thumb caressed the smoothness of her skin. He released her hand abruptly and stood and walked around the side of the table to stand next to her. She did not look at him but rather lifted her cup to her lips once more. 

He sank to one knee at her side. She set down her cup and he reached up and brushed his fingertips over her cheek. She turned to look down at him. He lifted his hands to cup her face. 

His voice was husky. "You...you are..."

She cut him off and surprised him by leaning in and pressing her lips against his. His lips were soft, made pliant by his surprise. When she pulled back he was staring at her. 

She straightened suddenly her mouth forming a silent 'o'. She flushed and stammered. "I--I'm so sorry." her words rushed out. "I don't know what I was thinking." She stood abruptly, him swiftly standing as well as she grabbed up her cup and saucer and began hurriedly clearing the table. She was reaching for the cup of honey when he caught her wrist and gently tugged her to face him. 

She kept her gaze on his shirtfront as he pulled her close and slipped his arms around her. She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I had no right...I should not have..." her voice trailed off as he brushed her hair back from her face and lifted her chin. 

"You're so beautiful," he whispered in reverent tones as he perused her features. 

She met his gaze, her lips parting slightly. He watched as her wondrous gaze drifted to his own lips. He couldn't help but smile. Yes, she definitely wished for him to kiss her again. And so he deliberately laid his lips against hers. 

Gabriel kissed her, holding her against his body, trying to show her with his kiss that in his arms she was safe. She had nothing to fear and that he would do all that was in his power to keep her safe. His fingers moved through her hair as he pulled her tighter against him and deepened the kiss. In response she wound her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer. 

He stole the breath from her lungs as the kiss intensified. But she was convinced that she didn't need air. All the needed with this. She was gasping for breath when he pulled back and grinned at her, a bit of sadness touching his gaze. He smoothed his hands over her dark hair. "Come." 

She blinked up at him as he swept her into his arms and carried her from the kitchen, upstairs and silently made his way with her into her bedroom. He laid her on the bed and pulled the covers up around her. She gazed up at him in confusion. He smiled thinly and pressed a kiss to her lips. 

He turned to go and paused in the doorway to glance back at her. She was propped up on one elbow, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. She looked lovely, he thought, and confused. 

"Stay," he begged. "Just please stay here." His dark eyes were fervent on her. "I haven't the strength..." his voice trailed off. 

Devonny sat up, gazing at him wide-eyed as he stood rigid, hands curled into fists as he looked at her. His voice was low when he spoke. "I am your employer. We took you on as a favor to Mrs. Palmer as you had nowhere else to go. It is unseemly that we should--" he cleared his throat and drew himself upward. "It is unseemly that we should breach any proper boundaries, physical or otherwise..."

Devonny stared at him wondering at his ability to distance himself so completely from the emotions that had seemed to overtake them both only moments before. 

He watched as confusion flitted over the girl's exquisite face nodded stiffly. "Goodnight, Devonny," he said, his voice hushed as he closed the door behind him.                    Devonny stared at the closed door in dismay before letting out a frustrated growl and burying her face in her pillow.

It would be long before Gabriel got any sleep that night. The image of Devonny's features betraying her bewilderment would not vacate his mind. 

He groaned. It was as though he'd completely take leave of his senses. He had no business kissing her and he had better learn to control his impulses.

It was unlike him to lose control with a woman the way he did with Devonny. The girl was beautiful, yes. But he'd been surrounded by beautiful women since he was old enough to desire them. But there was something about this little mulatto witch that drew him inexplicably to her.

His mind drifted back to the way her mouth felt under his own and the way her body felt crushed against his. He grinned to himself. She was a cheeky little piece when her mouth got ahead of her. But tonight he'd seen another side of her, drawing him ever closer to her. 

A disturbing thought crossed his mind. Perhaps she wasn't as innocent as she seemed. For a girl who had grown up in a brothel she seemed utterly naïve. But it could simply be an act. 

The homes of London's elite were full of young women of the lower classes who were intent on seducing the master of the house for their own advancement. 

He did not think Devonny the conniving type but perhaps she was simply that adept. He did not like to think he'd been so easily managed. 

***

Devonny settled into life at the Davenport mansion over the following weeks. Prince and Elijah became great friends to her while Moira became a watchful guardian figure. She grew accustomed to her duties and found herself content with the exception of the fact that Gabriel Davenport treated her like a plague and barely acknowledged her existence. 

But she was used to being invisible. Working at Madam Pomfrey's had taught her how to go about unnoticed. However, it wasn't simply that his dismissal of her that hurt. It was the open hostility in his gaze whenever his eyes came to rest on her.

And so Devonny went out of her way to avoid him whenever possible. 

She was hurriedly dusting the bookcases in the library while Gabriel and Elijah were out at a meeting. She balanced on the ladder, lightly running the feather duster over the leather bound treasures.

She stretched her reach, not quite willing to descend and roll the ladder along quite yet. She balanced precariously on the step, gently dusting the spines. 

"Careful," came the deep voice below her. Devonny squeaked, startled and teetered on the ladder attempting to right herself to no avail. With a shriek she fell sideways off the ladder, her body twisting in midair as she grasped for the ladder and missed. She squeezed her eyes shut as the ground rushed up to meet her. 

But the jarring impact never came. She felt strong arms enclose her, taking the force of her fall as she was caught and cradled against Elijah Davenport's strong chest. 

"Whoa," he grinned at her as she clung to him, eyes still shut. "Perhaps we should keep your feet on the ground, love." 

Devonny's face flooded with embarassment when he did not release her. 'I-I'm sorry, sir" she stammered looking at him and wriggling out of his grasp as he set her on her feet. "I was startled. I thought you were someone else." 

"Ah, thought I was the brooding Davenport brother?" He grinned. "I apologize for causing such terror and damn near causing you to have a tragic accident." He gave her a mock frown. "And how many more times must I tell you to stop calling me 'sir'?"

"At least once more," she gave him a small smile. "You're back earlier than I expected."

Elijah shrugged and made his way to his desk. "It was a brief meeting." 

"Is Gabriel with you?" She glanced apprehensively toward the shelves she had yet to reach.

"Planning to flee?" Elijah mused, noticing her look. "Why does he frighten you so?" 

Devonny's gaze flashed defiantly but it was quickly masked behind her generally demure façade. "I'm not afraid of him" she said quietly. "I simply prefer to stay out of his way." 

Elijah's brow wrinkled as he studied her. No, she wasn't afraid. But something obviously made the girl seem to disappear inside herself when his brother was around.

Elijah jerked his head toward the shelves. "Leave them. It's time to be packing up anyway." 

She cocked her head. "Packing?" 

Elijah lifted one honey colored eyebrow. "I suppose Mrs. Palmer has forgotten to mention it to you. We go to the country house in the summer months. London is God awful in the heat." He continued. "We have a full staff there as we often entertain and the house and grounds are substantial. However, we often take Moira and Miles. They get a bit of a break from running a household."

"Annnd I am going?" Devonny ventured uncertainly.

Gabriel scoffed. "What, you wish to stay here? Alone?"

Devonny considered this. Months without anxiety or tiptoeing around. Months without Gabriel. The idea was at once appealing and saddening for reasons she could not name.

"Argh, Devonny," Elijah growled before rummaging in his desk. "You're going." He looked her in the eye, daring her to refuse him. He began scribbling something on a sheet of paper.

"But Elijah I don't want--"

He stamped the envelop with wax and thrust it at her. "Take this to Madam Baskett's as soon as you get a moment." He eyed her. "I don't want you see you baking in that dark high necked gown in the country. Forget the dusting for now."

***

Moira had indeed forgotten to mention that the Davenport house would be vacated during the summer and that she go on Elijah's errand to Madam Baskett's. 

When the hackney dropped Devonny off in front of Madam Baskett's, she was certain that there had been some mistake. 

Dressmakers models were displayed in the window garbed in the latest fashions from Paris. 

She hesitantly stepped into the shop and was instantly approached by a woman nearing middle age with furious red locks and vibrant blue eyes. 

"Bonjour chérie," she cooed smiling warmly. " 'Ave you come to pick something up?"

Devonny blinked at the woman, momentarily accosted by the woman's bright striped silk gown and the cloud of French perfume that hung about her. "I-I am not sure," she stammered, thrusting the letter Gabriel had sealed at her. 

Smiling faintly, Marie Baskett opened the letter. "Ah," her smile widened. "From monsieur Elijah." she scanned the letter and gave Devonny an appraising look. She slowly circled the young woman while Devonny tried not to fidget. The woman purred low in her throat. "Monsieur Elijah has stated that you are to accompany his to his country estate at the end of the month and that a suitable wardrobe is to be made up sparing no cost." 

Devonny frowned. "Surely he's joking."

Marie waved the letter dismissively. "I think not." She locked the front door of the shop and placed the 'closed' sign in the window. "You've come at a good time. I was just closing up and I like to be discreet. Goodness knows the gossip when one mistress and another, or even a mistress a a wife end up unwittingly shopping together."

Devonny's mouth made a shocked 'O'. "Oh! I'm not Elijah's--he and I--" 

"Shhh, mon chou," Marie soothed. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Monsieur Elijah is a beautiful man and rich too. His taste is impeccable."

Marie drew Devonny further into the shop and quickly divested of her clothing, ignoring Devonny's faint protests.

Marie presented an array of fashion plates featuring the latest and most daring styles from Paris. All the while Devonny protested the extravagance, insisting that Marie simplify the gowns, leaving out the flounces and instating that she had no need for an evening gown. They haggled over necklines; Devonny begging her to raise them just one inch please, while Marie simply clucked her tongue and shook her head but agreed, lamenting: " 'Ow are you going to keep a man such as him enticed if you insist on dressing like a school girl." 

Hours later Devonny had been fitted for morning gowns, afternoon gowns, one unnecessary evening gown, two crinolines, torturous whale bone corsets, petticoats, lace shifts, silk stockings, black leathern kid boots, gloves, bonnets, and lace kerchiefs.

Devonny bluntly refused the lavishness only to have Marie hand her the letter from Elijah quoting as Devonny read: "Ignore any protests from the lovely Miss Madison. It is my wish that she be outfitted with a full wardrobe. Pay no mind to her refusals which I'm sure will be numerous."

Devonny growled low in her throat, cursing Elijah under her breath.

Beaming, Marie kissed Devonny on both cheeks and ordered her a coach to take her back to the Davenport house as night was fast approaching. 

Devonny arrived home and rushed into the kitchen, flinging her shawl and bonnet upon a chair and hurriedly tying on an apron. "I'm so sorry," she rushed out, helping set out rich aromatic coffee. "Elijah's errand--"

"Don't worry about it, love," Moira chided. "I've been doing this since before you were born. I can manage on my own for a couple of hours."




Devonny Ch. 03



Devonny took the tray into the study, shooting Elijah a dark look at his smug expression before pouring Gabriel a cup of coffee and then Elijah whose eyes shone with mirth as he watched her. 

She was just about to return to the kitchen when Gabriel's voice stopped her. "And where have you been all evening, Devonny?" his tone was stern. 

Devonny turned slowly. Her gaze was on the ground. "Sir I..."

"Leave her alone, Gabriel," Elijah interjected. "

Gabriel shot Elijah a glare. "I won't have her--"

"She was on an errand for me," Elijah said easily, leaning back in his chair.

"What manner of errand takes four hours?"

Devonny's gaze darted between the two brothers, both glaring at each other from behind their heavy mahogany desks. 

Elijah's smile was goading. "Interesting that you seem to keep track of her at all hours of the day, brother." 

Devonny wanted to sink right through the floor and disappear. 

Gabriel's scowl deepened, his fine lips pulled back in a near snarl. 

"Sirs..." Devonny's voice quietly broke their glares. 

"You're excused, Devonny," Elijah said gently.

Gabriel watched her go speculatively. "What are you about, Eli?" 

Elijah shrugged, fixing a bland look on his countenance. "Must I share all my affairs with you?"

"When one of our servants goes missing half the day, yes!"

"Missing?" Elijah chuckled. "Does that apply to all of our staff or just Devonny?"

Gabriel frowned at the familiar way with which Elijah spoke her name.

Elijah threw up his hands in surrender. "It was just a bit of shopping for a girl I am quite fond of, that's all."

Gabriel scrutinized Elijah's face and leaned back in his chair seeming to read veracity in his brothers gaze. "Well she seemed none to pleased about your little errand."

"No," Elijah mused. "I didn't think that she would be," Elijah returned, a small smile stretching across his lips.



Devonny Ch. 04



Devonny placed the silver tea server carefully on the kitchen countertop, when what she really wished was to do was hurl it across the room. She gripped the edge of the countertop and reminded herself to breathe. 

Gabriel Davenport was wearing on her already frayed nerves. And now he had a partner in crime. Abigail Benjamin, the vision who had been at Gabriel's elbow on the night of the Davenport party was more and more present in the Davenport household usually with of her simpering friends mooning over Elijah and her haughty aunt to watch over it all. 

They were running her ragged. Not to mention the multitude of events that the Davenport household was to be holding before leaving off for the country. Between preparations for garden and dinner parties and packing, Devonny was exhausted. The household seemed to constantly be filled with people to wait upon and Devonny highly suspected that the sudden mêlée had a dual purpose: to keep her busy, and to provide Gabriel with the opportunity to have the lovely young Miss Benjamin in his home and in his company. 

Devonny ignored the twinge of hurt. She knew she was fooling herself. She knew that she and Gabriel Davenport could never be. And she knew without a doubt that she was only hurting herself by caring. She was the wrong class and the wrong color. 

No, she knew an interracial match was not unheard of in London. Blacks and mulattoes integrated and intermarried into poor white urban populations, sharing in the misery and historical anonymity of the British poor. However, for society's elite, such a match would mean an end to the family's prominence. 

Even Devonny could not deny that Gabriel had found himself a good match. The young lady was beautiful, but she also had the family connections and money that would entice any suitor even if she had not been so comely. 

Devonny swallowed the lump in her throat as she arranged small pastries on the silver tray. She squared her shoulders and cleared her face of emotion as she exited the kitchen. ***

Devonny waited patiently across the street from Madam Pomfrey's. It was her last free day before they were to leave for the country.

Madam Pomfrey's was an inconspicuous townhouse nestled amongst the bourgeois homes masquerading as a finishing school for foreign young ladies in need of a proper British education. It hosted only the most privileged clientele, thus maintaining its anonymity amidst its bourgeois neighbors. 

When a young blonde woman with a face worthy of Botecelli's angels emerged and flounced down the steps, Devonny could not hold back a smile. Daintily lifting her skirts and giving the passing gentlemen a glimpse of stockinged and ankle, Cecile Marsh crossed the street to Devonny. "Darling!" she squealed throwing her arms around Devonny. "You look wonderful--beautiful as always--but trés sad, darling."

Devonny smiled at her friend as they linked arms and began to walk slowly down the street, ignoring the appraising looks the men passing gave the pair.

"So tell me, darling," Cecile urged. "Tell me where are you working? And your new employers? Madam told us nothing for fear that Mister Rochard might find you."

Devonny flinched unwillingly at the mention of that man's name. "I'm working for the Davenports." Her eyes were pleading. "Please don't mention it to any of the other girls."

Cecile patted her arm consolingly. "Of course not, chéri." Her blue gaze widened. "Davenport? Not Gabriel and Elijah Davenport.?"

"The same."

"Oh!" Cecile squealed. "Those two are the most gorgeous men I've ever laid eyes on. Bachelors...exceedingly wealthy. Lucky girl." 

When Devonny didn't share her enthusiasm Cecile looked at her closely. "Oh no," she said solemnly. "Tell me you're not smitten over one of them."

Devonny decided not to let Cecile know how close she was to the truth. Instead she said, "Of course not. Actually, Elijah and I have become an odd pair of friends." 

"Ah," Cecile grinned. "Not Mr. Davenport, or Mr. Elijah. Just Elijah, is it?" She lifted her brows pointedly. 

Devonny laughed at Cecile's comical expression. "No, no. It's nothing like that. We are just friends."

"Hmm," Cecile mused. "Are you certain? Well," she said coyly. " I heard some gossip about Mr. Elijah Davenport spending an obscene sum of money on a new wardrobe for a new mulatto mistress. But I suppose I must be mistaken."

Devonny gasped. "No!"

Cecile smiled triumphantly. "Yes! And you had better tell me all about it."

Devonny stopped in her tracks and groaned, putting her face in her gloved hands. "Oh no, no, no, no, no," she moaned. She felt Cecile tugging her along and dropped her hands to continue arm and arm with Cecile. 

Devonny stared at the ground in shock.

Cecile patted her hand consolingly. "Oh, it's nothing to be ashamed about, Devonny. He's a beautiful man. You could do a lot worse for yourself."

Devonny shook her head. "Oh, Cecile, you don't understand," she sighed. "Gabriel and I are truly just friends."

"But the wardrobe..."

Devonny rolled her eyes. "Gabriel decided that I was to go to the country with them and have and entirely new wardrobe to do so. There are no romantic feelings between us, I assure you...merely friendship." 

Cecile pouted. "Ah, that's too bad, darling. What a catch he would make."   

Devonny merely shrugged ruefully and shook her head. They walked on in companionable silence before Cecile asked the question Devonny knew was waiting. 

"And what about the other one, Gabriel Davenport?"

Devonny sighed. "Hates me."

"No," Cecile cooed, but one look at Devonny's desolate expression told her everything. "Oh, honey. Why would you think that?"

"Maybe because he treats me like a bloody leper or because he only speaks to me in sneers."

Cecile gave her a sympathetic look. "Ah, I'm sorry darling."

They had reached the busy Piccadilly Circus and began browsing the windows and stopping at vendors. 

Devonny wandered into her favorite book store, smiling at the shopkeeper who dipped his head in return. Cecile grew bored quickly and left Devonny to her own devices while she made her way next door for some new ribbons.

Devonny's nose was buried in William Thackney's newest novel when she turned right into a tall male figure. "Oh!" She dropped the book, bending quickly to pick it up. "I'm so sorry..." her voice trailed off as she stared up into the smug face of André Rochard. 

Her heart dropped into her stomach, her breath coming in quick breaths. She moved to step back but his hand shot out and gripped her wrist, pulling her towards him. He wrapped and arm around her waist and held her tightly against him. The book crushed awkwardly between their bodies felt like a blessed shield.

She stared up into the pale icy blue gaze of André Rochard. His pale blonde hair was swept back gracefully from his finely chiseled face. His think lips were turned up in a biting smile. "Imagine running into you here, lovely. I've been looking for you everywhere."

Devonny's heart was beating rapidly. She was sure he could feel its pounding thrugh the book between them. "Please let me go," she gasped, her gaze wildly searching the back of the shop for someone, anyone. But they were quite alone.

Rochard lifted a hand to tug at a dark curl that had escaped her bonnet. "Let you go?" He traced a finger over her cheek. "But I've only just found you. We have unfinished business."

Terrified, Devonny opened her mouth in a scream but his hand covered her mouth before a single sound emerged. He pushed her against the shelves, removing his hand from her lips only to cruelly capture her lips with his own as his hands brazenly roamed over her body.

Tears were streaming down her face as she pushed futilely against him. Bracing her hands on his chest she brought heal of her booted heel on his foot, pushing him with all her might. He stumbled backwards with a cry of pain, reaching for her as she moved by him but only managing to grasp her shawl as she fled. 

Dropping the book she carried, Devonny raced past the shocked shopkeeper and bolted out into the street. She ran, hearing Rochard call her name behind her. 

Shocked pedestrians moved quickly out of her way. "Devonny!" A hand closed around her upper arm nearly jerking her off her feet as she was swung around towards him. She collided with his chest, fighting wildly as panicked whimpers escaped her.

He shook her. "Devonny, goddamnit!"

Devonny paused, blinking back tears to stare up at Gabriel Davenport's bewildered face.

Her knees buckled in relief as she recognized him and he quickly pulled her against his chest as sobs tore free of her throat and she pressed her face against his chest. 

Gabriel held her, his face betraying her consternation. "Devonny, what the devil is going on?"

At that moment Gabriel heard a pair of hurried boot heels abruptly stop only feel from them.

Gabriel looked up to see a slightly flushed blonde man, obviously a gentleman breathing hard, clutching a woman's shawl. The man looked enraged, his gaze fixed on Devonny who had not lifted her face but trembled violently in his arms.

Gabriel's was deep and menacing when he spoke. "Who are you sir?"

Rochard grimaced and gestured to Devonny, ignoring Gabriel's query. "That girl accosted me trying to rob me. I demand you hand her over so that I may convey her to the proper authorities."

Devonny's grip on Gabriel tightened. Gabriel gazed down at her and using one finger he titled her chin and lifted her face to his. Her thick dark lashes fluttered downwards and were wetly spiked with tears that ran down her face. Her lips were bruised and the tender flesh around them was rubbed raw. 

Fury suffused Gabriel's face as he pushed Devonny behind him. His voice was mocking as he faced the other man. "So this girl who is half your size attempted to rob you by force? And obviously managed to escape you as well?" 

Rochard merely glared back at him. 

"E-excuse me, sirs," came an elderly man's tentative face. The bookstore's shopkeeper was wringing his hands nervously slightly behind Rochard.

"What do you want?" Rochard sneered.

The shopkeeper directed his troubled gaze to Gabriel. "It's not true what he says, sir, about the girl. He followed the young miss into my shop. He didn't take his eyes off her and he looked up to no good. I heard them struggling in the back but she must have broke free before I could get back there." He glanced at Devonny. "That girl has been coming to my shop for years. She's a good girl. Never given me a bit of trouble."

Gabriel fixed his narrowed gaze back on Rochard. His voice was deadly calm. "I don't know who you are, sir, although I have a pretty good idea. It is no matter who you are. You will stay away from the girl or you will answer to me. Do you understand?"

Rochard's only answer was the clenching of his fists and the hardening of his face before he turned on his heel and stalked away, flinging the shawl on the ground at Gabriel's feet. The crowd that had stopped to gawk at the scene was dispersing with low mumers. 

Gabriel picked up the shawl and dusted it of lightly before handing it to Devonny whose head was lowered, the brim of her bonnet hiding her face. She pulled the length of fabric against her chest and was silent. 

"Devonny--' he began but was cut off by a light feminine squeak.

'Darling!" Cecile raced from the crowd and threw her arms around Devonny. Placing her hands on Devonny's cheeks she searched her friend's face. "That monster didn't hurt you did he?"

Devonny shook her head mutely.

Cecile whirled to Gabriel flashing him her most stunning smile. "Thank God you were here, sir. Who knows what might have happened had you not heroically intervened." She daintily offered her hand. "Cecile Marsh."

"Gabriel Davenport," came Gabriel's clipped reply before he reached out and gently lifted Devonny's face once more with a the lightest touch of his fingertips. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she replied softly.

Gabriel held Devonny's gaze. "I will be right back. Stay with Miss Marsh while I get the coach."

Devonny watched his broad back as he departed. 

Cecile hooked her arm through Devonny's and followed Gabriel with her gaze. "Oh darling," she chided. "That man certainly does not hate you."

***

After hiring a hackney to take Cecile home, Gabriel settled Devonny into the coach before seating himself across from her. He rapped his ivory handled cane on the roof and the coach lurched forward down the cobblestone street.

"Now what the devil was that about?" Gabriel demanded.

Devonny's head jerked up and she stared at him wide-eyed.

"Well?"

She swallowed thickly. "Andre Rochard," she answered.

Gabriel's brows drew together. "I've heard of the man. Now what does he want with you? I doubt the two of you have a casual acquaintance."

Devonny dropped her eyes to her hands in her lap. "He's the reason I had to leave Madam Pomfrey's."

"Go on."

Devonny looked at him beseechingly. "Please, sir. It is improper."

Gabriel's gaze was penetrating. "That man just accosted you and chased you through the streets. I need to know how persistent he might be."

Devonny's face squinted as she fought back tears. She looked back to her hands folded in her lap. "You know what Madam Pomfrey's is like."

"I do."

"Well, Margaret liked to shield me from that as much as she could but I helped with the housework. I served as well when they were entertaining in the parlor. That's when André Rochard caught sight of me. He began bringing me presents although I refused them. One of the girls jokingly mentioned that I was 'only a naïve little virgin." Her lips twisted sardonically. "It only seemed to intrigue him." She glanced up at Gabriel. "He offered me...plaçage. He was unrelenting. He offered vast sums of money. But I refused and Margaret wouldn't hear of it."

Garbiel quirked a dark brow. "Plaçage?"  

Devonny's lips pressed into a thin line. "I assume he learned of it in the American south. It is an arrangement between a white man and a woman of color. They are quite common in the south in America."

Gabriel seemed to understand. "You would be his mistress."

Devonny snorted. "His whore." She shook her head. "He started following me or having his thugs follow me when he could not. The girls thought I was stupid. Rochard was handsome they said, and rich. Not only was he offering to buy my virginity, he was offering me my own apartments and my own carriage and staff. He said I could have anything I liked."

"And still you refused?" came Gabriel's incredulous response.

Devonny's honey eyes flashed to his, filled with fire. "Just because I am mulatto does not mean that I cannot wish for more than being some rich man's whore." Her voice was steadier and she looked him in the face. "Besides, he had a reputation for being cruel. I heard about the bruises and beatings he gave his last mistress who disappeared suddenly." She lifted her chin. "And I did not love him. I will give myself to a man out of love. I will not settle for anything less." 

She dropped her gaze once more and picked at the fringed edges of her shawl. "But he was not easily dissuaded. Nor was he accustomed to being refused. He caught me alone in the kitchen one evening." Her pretty brow wrinkled and Gabriel felt dread pool in his stomach. He did not want to hear this. 

"He forced me onto the kitchen table and pulled up my skirts. He was fumbling around when I managed to grab a bottle of wine and hit him over the head with it. He was unconscious but when he came to he raged and shouted promises that I would be hisone way or another. He would not let me go."

She shrugged although there was nothing nonchalant about the gesture. "And so here I am." She snorted. "And in such a state."

Gabriel leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. In the small space of the coach, he looked into Devonny's troubled face. His voice was steady and sure. "You are safe now. No one will harm you. I promise you this."

***

"HE DID WHAT?!" Elijah bellowed shooting out of his chair in the study. 

Gabriel calmly lit his cigar. "Calm down, Eli. She's alright."

"You should have taken his bloody head off!" Elijah was striding back and forth angrily. "Some pervert tries to maul her in a public place and you say she's alright? Blast it, Gabe, you didn't just pat her on the bum and tell her to shake it off did you?" 

Gabriel frowned and regarded his brother through the curling wisps of smoke drifting up from the end of his cigar. "I didn't get anywhere near her bum."

Elijah growled at him. "You're a bloody cold bastard, you know that? She was probably terrified out of her wits."

Gabriel examined the end of his cigar. "I wouldn't doubt it."

Elijah halted in his tracks and fixed his brother with an intent look. "You don't have to be so hard and unfeeling all the time. I know you feel something for the girl. I've seen the way you look at her when you think she's not watching."

Gabriel merely grunted. 

Elijah glared at him. "Why do you have to be so damned heartless? Just because Isabella--"

Gabriel silenced him with a scowl. "Don't ever speak of her," he gritted out. 

"Well maybe you need to talk about it and get you over this--"

"Eli," Gabriel growled. 

"Fine, fine," Elijah grumbled. "I'm going to go check on her."

Gabriel said nothing.

Elijah found her in Gabriel's bedroom closing the drapes and lighting the oil lamps. He watched them from the doorway as she pulled back the sheets and made sure the bed curtains were secure.

"You alright sweetheart?" he spoke nearly causing her to jump out of her skin.

"Elijah!" she gasped, her hand flying to her breast.

Elijah held up his hands. "Forgive me. I did not mean to startle you. Are you alright?" Taking a deep breath as Elijah came towards her, she nodded. 

Gabriel took her by the shoulder and looked down into her face. "Are you certain?"

She nodded. 

"Good girl." Elijah lightly chucked her chin. "See, now you must go to the country. Can't leave you here by yourself." He frowned. It was as stern as she had ever seen him look. "And until then you are not to leave the house by yourself. You will take Miles, or Prince, or one f the footman. If none of them are available you will wait and then I myself will accompany you." 

"Sir, I cannot ask you to--"

He cut her off with a slash of his hand cutting through the air. His voice was humorless. "This is not request. You will obey me in this."  

Devonny lifted an ebony brow. "Yes, my lord," she said and dropped a low exaggerated curtsy. 

A corner of Elijah's mouth tilted upward, marring his attempt to remain stoic. "I do believe you are growing cheekier by the day, Devonny." He seemed to consider this. "I quite like it."

Gabriel grumbled something unintelligible as he entered the room. 

Elijah gave her a quick wink and jerked his head towards the door. 

Devonny suppressed a smile and left the two brothers alone. 



Devonny Ch. 05



Devonny had all but forgotten about Marie Baskett's insinuations and Cecile's gossip about Elijah Davenport's mulatto mistress until the day Gabriel called her into the parlor. 

Devonny, wiping her hands on her apron she entered the parlor, stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh good Lord," she gasped. 

Gabriel stood, hands on hips, surveying the room around him. Covering every available surface--the couches, chairs, settees, the piano top, the side tables, and even the floor was covered in hat, shoe, and garment boxes. 

Gabriel was staring at the boxes in consternation. "Do you know anything about this?"

Devonny stepped tentatively into the room and lifted the lid of one of the boxes to peek at a pair of dainty black kid boots. She dropped the lid as though it had burned her. "Oh Lord," she repeated, gazing about the room in shock.

"Devonny, do you care to explain?"

"Eli," she breathed.

Gabriel frowned. "Elijah did this? This is the errand he sent you on the other day? To purchase some items for his new paramour I assume? Why were they sent here?"

Devonny seemed to pale beneath her lovely golden brown complexion. She swallowed, her gaze reluctantly meeting Gabriel's dark emerald gaze. "It's for me." 

Shock registered on Gabriel's face. "For you?" he murmured softly.

She watched the emotions flitting over his handsome features. "Sir, it's not what you think."

But he didn't seem to be listening to her. She heard the front door open and slam shut and she ripped her gaze away from Gabriel to see Elijah striding towards them, a wide grin on his face. 

"Gabriel," Devonny reached for him but he whirled and met Elijah in the entryway. Gabriel's fist connected soundly with Elijah's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards into the foyer, Gabriel following quickly.

Devonny shrieked calling for Miles and Matthew as the two Davenport men rolled across the marble floor trading blows. Miles and the footman came running only to stand in shock, unsure of what to do and looking uncertain as to whether they should interfere. Devonny was moving to intervene herself when Prince suddenly appeared beside her pulling her aside and hauling Gabriel off of Elijah. 

Elijah leapt to his feet and started after Gabriel who Prince was struggling valiantly to restrain. Devonny darted forward but Elijah sidestepped her and she wrapped her arms around his waist, halting him with all her strength though her heels skidded across the floor as he dragged her forward. "Elijah please!" And then Matthew was there helping her as Miles joined Prince in attempting to hold back the enraged Gabriel Davenport. 

"Stop!" Moira's voice rang out in the expansive foyer.

Both struggling men halted at the sound of Moira's voice. The woman had raised them herself--as much a mother to them as their own mother--and the fearful confused look on her face was enough to give them pause.

Gabriel carefully disentangled himself from Miles and Matthew's restraining grasps and with all the dignity he could muster he straightened his jacket which sported a tear in one shoulder. 

Affecting similar grace, Elijah stooped and swept his top hat up from the cool marble floor. 

Jaw rigid, fists clenched, Gabriel strode towards the study, Elijah stalking angrily behind. The sound of the study door slamming reverberated through the house. 

Anguished, Devonny unconsciously moved towards the closed study door but Moira gently tugged her back. "Let them be, child." She nodded towards the parlor. "I'll help you sort all this out in your room."

Devonny numbly agreed but she truly wanted little to do with the yards of fabric and absurdities which had cause such violence only moments before. 

She looked sadly at the array of beautiful garments as she and Moira began hanging them in the armoire. "I thought Elijah was just having a bit of fun with me." She sank down into a bit of free space on the bed her gaze taking it all in. "I didn't expect all this. I wasn't thinking. What was he thinking?" Her eyes flooded with tears and she looked at her hands in her lap. "No wonder people were gossiping." 

Moira moved aside a hat box and seated herself beside Devonny as she carefully folded a cashmere shawl. The older woman smiled sympathetically. "Elijah has always been an impetuous child. But it is also a wonderful quality of his that he has always been very generous with those who have earned his esteem. It is a compliment that he thinks so highly of you."

Devonny's brow furrowed. "But I cannot accept all this. It is unfitting of my station and already people are assuming the indecent. And Gabriel...." she sighed. "Gabriel is furious. 

Moira looked Devonny squarely in the face. "People will always assume the indecent. All that is important is that your own conscience is clear. Moira shrugged, a mischievous twinkle lighting her eyes so that at that moment she looked very much like her more scandalous sister. Moira winked at her."Don't forget, I was once a young pretty thng in the home of a young handsome man as well.

"But Gabriel--"

Moiira looked at her meanfully. "I'm sure Gabriel and Elijah will sort it out between themselves."

***

"What the bloody fuck was that?!" Elijah exploded, storming into the library after Garbriel. 

Gabriel wheeled on him though he'd reigned in his temper enough to keep himself from launching himself at Elijah again. He veered away from Elijah and began pacing. "God knows you're known to have a woman's skirts up over her head before you've learned her name but damn it, Elijah! I heard the bloody rumors but never did it occur to me that it was her."

Pulling a silken kerchief from his pocket Elijah dabbed at the trickle of blood coming from his spit lip. "I have no idea what you're babbling on about."

Gabriel growled and stared at him, his hands curling into fists. "You suspected--you knew--how I felt about her and yet, as always, you go and do exactly as you wish. Taking what you want with no regard for anyone else."

"Christ, Gabriel," Elijah scowled and plopped down in the armchair behind his desk. "Just tell me what you're about."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Devonny, and that trollop's wardrobe you've bought her."

Elijah shrugged. "So what? I didn't want to see her walking around like a ragamuffin in the country. I thought it would be fun for her."

Gabriel saw red. "Fun? You're planning on parading her around in her new finery. Showing off your newest conquest?" 

Elijah's brows lifted. "Conquest?" he laughed. "Hardly, Gabriel," he remarked dryly.

And then Gabriel was striding towards him, a murderous glint in his gaze. 

"Hold!" Elijah held up his hands. His voice was serious. "I never touched her." 

Gabriel had halted a within a few feet of of his brother. He eyed him disbelievingly.

Elijah continued. "Honestly Gabriel, I never touched her." he seemed to consider this. "Well...not in the way you're thinking. She's my friend. That's all."

Ethan's dark green gaze searched Eli's solemn face. 

Elijah averted his gaze and examined his nails. "It quite unique having woman for a friend." He glanced at his brother. " I mean, she's brilliant, Gabriel. She's smart and she's funny. Albeit a dry, odd sort of humor, but truly funny. And when she laughs, a rarity, she lights up a room. Who wouldn't want to shower gifts on a smart, witty, beautiful women? But I swear, Gabe, I never touched her."

Gabriel swallowed, seeming to struggle to get his emotions in check, and sank into the settee. He groaned, burying his face in his hands. 

Elijah studied him. Gabriel was not one to let his emotions get the best of him. A mere clench of the jaw was generally the equivalent of an emotional outburst. 

"You thought I had bedded her," Elijah said softly. 

Gabriel nodded, his face grim. Sighing, he stood. "This is no good."

Elijah eyed him. "What are you going to do? Pack her up and send her to the America's?" he said bitingly, reminding Gabriel of how he had handed his own 'unsuitable' desire. "She has no here else to go."

Gabriel eyes flickered darkly to Elijah. No, he had no intention of turning her out in the street. He did not like to think of Devonny alone and falling into Rochard's hands. His voice was low when he spoke. "I promised her that I would protect her. I shall not break my word." He ran a rough hand through his dark mussed locks. "We're going to Kedleston House soon. There will be plenty of entertainment and without her waiting on us I'm certain I shall easily find a diversion."

Elijah stared at his brother, finding amusement in his predicament and in his sightlessness. The corner of Eli's mouth tilted upwards, causing him to wince at his injured lip. "You think it will be as easy as that?" He leaned back in his chair and looked considering at his brother. "Might I remind you that you seemed rather intent to do murder just a few minutes ago?"

"There's nothing else I can do." Gabriel grimaced and then mused, "The Hardings are spending the summer visiting the Duke of Devonshire."

Elijah lifted a flaxen brow. "Thus, the lovely Miss Abigail Harding shall be in close proximity." 

Gabriel met his brother's gaze. "Very close proximity."

***

It as late. The candle on her bedside table was burning low. Soon her eyes would be straining to see the pages of her book. But she found it impossible to sleep. She could not get Gabriel's face from her mind. She had watched the emotions flit over his handsome face; disbelief, and then hurt quickly turning to fury.

She couldn't dismiss the feeling of dread that weighed heavily in her stomach. She had told Elijah that she could not jeopardize her position in the Davenport household and yet she had foolishly done just that.

Devonny started at the knock on her door. Heart squeezing into her throat, she very hesitantly put down her book and wrapped a shawl over her nightgown before opening the door. Gabriel Davenport stood in the doorway and lifted his dark emerald gaze to hers.

She took an involuntary step back. 

Her timid movement struck him more than he cared to admit, testing his resolve. "Please," he started, lifting a hand towards her only to quickly halt himself. He lost his words as he stood there looking at her as she stood illuminated in the hall light. 

Her dark hair was unbound, falling in dark curls past her shoulders, the light bringing out its deep auburn shades. Her skin glowed burnished gold in the light. Her wide amber gaze seemed--

"Sir?"

Embarrassed, and realizing that he was staring, Gabriel took a step back further into the hallway. Her gaze was troubled, a bit fearful. Christ, he didn't want her to be afraid of him. 

Devonny pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. Gabriel looked distraught but devastatingly handsome. He was in his shirtsleeves, unbuttoned nearly to the center of his chest, exposing a swath of hard muscled chest dusted by a spattering of dark hair. His dark chesnut locks which were generally coaxed back were falling bour his brow and about his ears. Dark stubble shadowed his strong jaw. It was as unkempt as she had ever seen him look and he looked beautiful.

Gabriel cleared his throat and her amber glaze flickered back to his, a flush spreading becomingly over her cheeks. He scowled. How was he supposed to think properly when she looked at him like that, when her lovely eyes lingered on his body with such avid attention. 

He straightened slightly, drawing himself upward. His voice was steady, detached when he spoke. "Devonny, I wanted to apologize for my behavior," he said steadily and watched her honeyed eyes widen. "I jumped to a false conclusion, one that did you a disservice and I am ashamed to think that I ever held such an unbecoming assumption. My behavior was reprehensible." 

Devonny was stunned. She seen him cold, furious, aloof and dismissive but never so visibly uncomfortable and decidedly unsure. "You mean, you are not firing me?" she ventured softly. 

Gabriel's eyes flew to hers. "No! I couldn't do that to you. Not because I was wrong and cannot control my temper."

Devonny did not know what to say. She looked down at her slippered toes, catching her lip between her teeth. Gabriel took the opportunity to freely peruse her delicate features. He smiled ruefully to himself and raked a hand through his hair. This was bloody difficult. 

"It is my hope," he began and looked at her intently. "That we can coexist amiably." She was looking at him speculatively, her arms wrapped around herself. "And I think it best that we maintain a strictly professional relationship," he finished.

Something flickered in her amber gaze only to be quickly veiled. She ducked a quick curtsy. "Of course, sir."

'Sir,' Gabriel thought, his lips thinning. He knew it was the right thing to do, the responsible thing to do. Then why did he feel like he was making a mistake? He pushed the thought aside.

Devonny was stepping back. "Was there anything else, sir?"

Gabriel shook his head. "Goodnight, Devonny." 

"Goodnight, sir," she said softly and quietly closed the door, not meeting his glance as she did so.

Gabriel stood a moment staring at her doorway, rooted to the spot. 'This is how it must be,' he told himself. 'This is the only way it can be.'

Draping her shawl over her chair, Devonny climbed back beneath the covers and turned down the lamp at her bedside. She lay on her side, cupping her face in her palm and closed her eyes though quieting her mind was not so easy. He was right of course, she told herself for the hundredth time. But she doubted that a simple agreement to adhere to a professional relationship was going to harden her heart against him.

She couldn't stay, she decided. It would only hurt her further. Even as she made that decision, a tormenting sense of loss was already taking root within the center of her chest. No, she couldn't leave now. She had no place to go and no money. But she would begin to prepare. It would be a matter of months but she promised herself that she would leave Gabriel Davenport behind. 

***

Devonny leaned her head against the side of the carriage. The constant bumping and swaying was making her ill she thought. 

Miles and Moira were in the seats across from her, dosing, lulled by the carriage's rocking. 

Devonny lifted flap and looked out. The countryside was lush green and beautiful. She'd hadn't been outside the city often since she was a young girl and the miles and miles of rolling hills beneath the wisps of white clouds and blue sky made her wish she had the skill to pick up a paintbrush. 

But she couldn't spend one more minute in that carriage. She lifted the flap and looked out the window, looking around for Prince.

He rode up beside the carriage window on a magnificent ebony Arabian. Indeed, he looked very princely sitting tall and straight in the saddle. "Everything alright?"

Devonny shook her head. "Please, Prince, let me ride." 

Prince's brows rose as he trotted alongside the carriage. "Ride what?"

Devonny switched her gaze to the horses tethered behind the carriage. Three gorgeous animals; two Andalusians and an Alter Real. "Please?"

Prince shook his head. "Oh no, no, no. Those are my darlings and I'm not going to be responsible for you breaking your pretty little neck."

Devonny frowned. "I will not."

"You can ride behind me," Prince conceded. 

Devonny pouted. "I'm not a little girl, Prince. And I can ride."

Prince shook his head again. "Elijah and Gabriel would murder me if anything happened to you." 

Shaking her head, Devonny pushed open the carriage door and hopped out while it was still rolling. She began walking alongside the carriage. 

"Devonny," Prince, sighed and reached down, hauling her up in front of him. 

"Prince!" Devonny squirmed, causing the Arabian to dance sideways. Devonny turned and looked at Prince while he wrestled the animal back under control.

"I can ride, Prince, honestly. I'm a good rider."

Prince looked at her speculatively a moment, seeming to consider this, before pulling alongside one of the horses tethered at the back of the carriage and loosed one of the Andalusians, a pale grey-white and blonde beauty. He led the horse clear of the carriages to give them room. He dismounted quickly before reaching up and lifting Devonny down. 

He pulled on the Andalusian's reigns and brought him closer to Devonny. "Devonny, this is Orion, Orion this is Devonny." 

The Andalusian butted his nose against Devonny's chest causing her her to step back laughing. 

"One moment," Prince said, and jogged back to one of the luggage carriages and hefted down a saddle. He quickly saddled Orion and stepped back. He glanced at her and rubbed his hand across his jaw. "I don't know about this."

Devonny grinned broadly and grabbed the pommel, pulling herself onto the horse's back and arranging her skirts.

Prince smiled ruefully and shook his head before swinging himself back onto the Arabian's back. "Come, let's go."

And so they set off for Kedleston Hall. It wasn't long before they had accumulated some distance between themselves and the carriages carrying the Moira and Miles and the mountains of luggage. 

The road in companionable silence, galloping once in a while before slowing back down to a brisk trot. When the carriages were no longer in sight, Prince decided that it was time that they stop and rest and allow the carriages to catch up. They decided to stop near a small stream. 

Devonny winced as she slid down from her mount. 

Prince laughed as she moved stiffly. 

Devonny tossed him an indignant glare. "You, sir, did not have to ride side saddle." 

Prince grinned and unhitched a pack and blanket from his saddle then loosed Ajax's reigns so that the Arabian could meander and graze. Devonny did the same, running her hand along Orion's flank before he wandered off to join Ajax.

Prince laid the blanket down beneath the a tree and plopped down. Devonny gingerly lowered herself to sit beside him. Prince leaned back against the tree trunk, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He drew an apple and a knife from the pack and carefully sliced it in half before he handed half to her. 

Devonny thanked him and bit into its sweetness. 

"You sit a horse well," Prince commented. "Where'd you learn to ride?"

Devonny shrugged and loosened the ribbons of her bonnet. "Margaret, Moira's sister, she had a small country house. She taught me how to ride." She smiled fondly, "Margaret was once a very sought after courtesan. She had all of the affects of a lady without the social obligations." 

She glanced at Prince and changed the subject. "So what's Kedleston Hall like? What do you spend your summer doing?"

Prince looked up at the boughs of the tree. "Kendleston is like a palace and I spend the summers riding and building my stables and training the horses. I hunt." A small smile crept over his features. "And then there's Elizabeth." 

Devonny lifted a dark ebony brow at the way he said the name, almost reverently. "Elizabeth?"

Prince grinned at her. "My fiance."

Devonny sat up straighter, a wide smile breaking across her face. "Fiance? Prince, you never mentioned anyone!"

Prince held up a hand. "Hold, Devonny. We are not telling anyone yet."

"Ah, a secret engagement." she smiled coyly. "But why all the secrecy?"

Prince examined the apple speculatively. "I've known her family since I was a child. They're good people, well-to-do members of black society. They've always been good to me, and I want to make sure that I can be good to their daughter and give her the lifestyle she deserves. I want to get my stables up and running and accumulate some wealth before marrying."

Devonny threw him a small smile and shook her head. "Any woman would be lucky to have you, Prince, wealthy or not." She changed the subject again. "So what do the Davenports' do while at Kedleston?"




Devonny Ch. 05



Prince gave her a knowing look. "Gabriel spends much of his time hunting and riding. Elijah joins him on occasion. But there are many parties and balls. There are guests coming and going throughout the season and every young woman within thirty miles is throwing themselves at one or the other, perhaps both. Count yourself lucky that there's a summer staff and you don't have to manage all that."

Devonny nodded and took another bite of her apple. "Honestly, I have no idea what I'm going to be doing with myself. It sounds like little will be needed of me and there are only so many books I can read."

"Ride," Prince suggested. "Orion seems to have taken to you. You can ride, read, and go to balls."

Devonny snorted. "I don't think I'm on the guest list at any balls, Prince." 

Prince looked at her seriously. "There are colored balls during the season. I will introduce you to Elizabeth's family. I should think that the two of you should be fast friends and would be happy to chaperon." He wanted to broach the next topic carefully. "Devonny," he said softly. "Perhaps you would meet someone. Someone who can be what you need."

Devonny looked at her hands in her lap. She knew where he was going with this. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought the same things to herself. 

"Gabe and Eli are good men," Prince continued. "The best men I know, white or otherwise. But Gabriel can never be what you want."

Devonny shook her head. "I neither want nor expect anything from Gabriel Davenport."

Prince looked chagrined. "Whether he likes it or not, Gabriel wants something from you." His tone was serious. "I've never seen Gabriel in a fury like that. Ever." he said. "I don't think I've ever seen Gabriel lose control like that. Anyone who knows him like I do would know that you've affected him." Prince's voice was soft and hesitant. "I do not mean to embarrass you. Nor would I ever suggest that you would..." he sighed. "Blast it, this is devilishly awkward. "I just don't want to see you hurt." 

Devonny smiled at him, a genuine smile. "I know, Prince. Thank you. You're a good friend." 

Prince waved off her thanks and stood offering his hand to her, pulling her to her feet. "Ah, I should mind my own business. Come, let's go. Kedleston Hall is just over the next hill." 



Devonny Ch. 06



When Prince had called Kedleston a palace, Devonny had assumed he was exaggerating. Her eyes swept over the incredible 'home' before her as she and Prince halted their mounts atop the hill.

The great northern front of the home was Palladian in character, its facade dominated by the massive six-columned Corinthian portico. The front of the home was divided into three distinct sets of bays. The central section was composed of a four-columned, blind triumphal arch containing one large pedimented glass door which reached from the rusticated ground floor atop an external, curved double staircase. Above the door, at second floor height were elaborate carvings in relief. The four Corinthian columns are topped by classical statues. 

The whole center section of the facade was crowned by a low dome visible from their distance on the hill. Flanking the front central section of the immense home are two identical wings on three floors, each three windows wide, the windows of the first-floor piano nobile being the tallest. The building was huge and imposing yet graceful. 

"My God," Devonny breathed as she stared in awe at the massive home before them. 

Prince laughed, "That's the general assessment of it." He clucked his tongue and nudged Ajax forward. 

Devonny followed Prince down the slope, urging Orion into a gallop as Prince looped around the home's massive exterior and thundered towards the stables. 

An older man came out just as they pulled their mounts to a halt. "Prince?" his face broke into a wide smile. 

Prince quickly dismounted and met the man, embracing him and heartily "Bernardo, cómo estás? Cómo esta su familia?" 

"Bien, muy bien." The man leaned back, taking Prince's shoulders and looking at him. The man was olive skinned with pure white hair and warm brown eyes. "And you, Principito. You look good!" His gaze drifted to Devonny who was still sitting atop Orion. "Well, are you going to help the young lady down?" 

Prince laughed and moved to lift Devonny down from her horse. The man who Prince had called Bernardo came forward and took both her hands in his to examine her before glancing at Prince. "Principito, who is this lovely creatured you've brought with you."  

Prince grinned and came to stand next to her. "Devonny this is Bernardo Marco-Gutierrez. Bernardo, this is Miss Devonny Clarke."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Devonny smiled at him.

"Pshh, call me Bernardo, cariña," the man smiled at her. 

Devonny returned the smile and reached for Orion's reigns. 

"Oh no, cariña," Bernardo stopped her and took the reigns himself. "I'll take the horses. Let Prince show you the house before it is overrun."

Prince held out his arm and Devonny took it, leading her around the side of the house. "You've got to enter through the front of the house to get the full effect. May not get a chance after today since Gabe and Eli are arriving tomorrow afternoon."

He glanced back towards the stables, smiling to himself. "Bernardo taught me everything I know about horses," he said. "Hopefully he will come with me when I'm ready start my own stables and stud farm." 

"Well you've got a wonderful start with the Andalusians, the Alter Real, and the Arabian." Devonny told him as they were mounting the curved stairs towards the front door. 

Prince smiled and pushed open the front door, gesturing for her to enter in front of him. 

Devonny stepped through the front door and was confronted by a vast marble hall.

Prince followed closely behind. "It was designed by the architect to suggest the open courtyard or atrium of a Roman villa." 

"Ah," Devonny said gazing about in wonder at the twenty fluted alabaster columns with Corinthian capitals that supported the heavily decorated, high-coved cornice. 

Niches in the walls contain classical statuary. Above *the niches were grisaille panels. The floor beneath her booted toes was inlaid Italian marble. Sunlight streamed down from the ceiling through glass skylights.

"Come," Prince led her to the circular saloon. The room, if it could be called such, was contained behind the triumphal arch of the south front. The marble hall rose the full height of the house to the top of the dome where it was sky-lit through a glass oculus. 

Throughout the saloon were breathtaking array of classical statues. Unable to help herself, Devonny wandered among them, marveling at their beauty. "Prince," she breathed stopping before one of a reclining woman. "It's beautiful."

Prince was beside her. "Yes, Mrs. Davenport loved art. This collection has been in the family for years. She added much to it. And when she passed, Gabriel took up her love of art."

She cocked her head. "Gabriel?"

Prince chuckled. "Yes, Gabriel." He gestured to the room around them. "The room was designed to be a sculpture gallery. I think it is based on the temples of the Roman Forum but with more modern innovations." He pointed to the four massive, apse-like recesses that looked like pedestals for classical urns. "Those are actually stoves." 

There were four sets of double doors leading to other rooms. The doors were topped by intricately carved pediments and flanked by alabaster columns. 

From the saloon, the ambiance of the Grand Tour continued throughout the principal reception rooms on the piano nobile, though on a slightly more modest scale. 

Prince led her into the principal apartment, its interior filled fine furniture and paintings. The same could be said of the drawing room with its huge Venetian windows. He then guided her to the expansive dining room. Her gaze was immediately drawn up to the ceiling. 

Prince followed her gaze upward. "The ceiling was painted to mimic the ceiling in the Palace of Augustus in the Farnese Gardens. The painted ceiling goes on through the library, the music room, down the grand staircase and onto the ground floor and into the so called great hall." 

Devonny blinked. "It's a little overwhelming. How does one live amongst this everyday?"

Prince shrugged. "Gabe and Eli's mother was a Curzon. This land has been in their family for hundreds of years. The house was commissioned less than a hundred years ago by Mrs. Davenport's grandfather, a Baron, I think." And then he led her on to the family apartments.

Devonny thought it a sensory reprieve to vacate this temple of culture and retreat to the relatively simple comforts of the family pavilion.

They left the largest central portion of the home that contained the state rooms and was intended for use only when there were important guests in the house. The eastern section was a self-contained country house in its own right containing all the rooms for the family's private use. Devonny's room was in the western block of the house that contained the kitchens and all other domestic rooms and staff accommodation. 

Prince led her into a room in the western section of the house. A thick floral carpet covered the floor. A large picture window with window seat framed by heavy drapes graced one wall. A large intricately carved mahogany bed dominated the room and matched a vanity, armoire and dresser. An elegant setee and arm chair also added a comfortable touch to the room. There was also small fireplace.

Devonny went to the window. "I like this room. It's beautiful but not overwhelming. It's simple but still elegant."

Prince leaned on the door frame. "It's good you like it. It's where you're supposed to be staying."

Devonny whirled to him. "Pardon?"

Prince shrugged again. "It's where Eli and Gabe agreed that you should stay."

Devonny crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head. "They agreed on something? Gabriel and Elijah agreed on something. And this is it?"

Prince came towards her and looked out the window over the gardens behind the house. "While you're here, you're not really part of the staff. This room is right on the edge of the staff section and the rest of the house. Elijah wanted you to feel as though you were vacationing and Gabe...Gabe wanted to keep an eye on you. There are going to be a lot of house guests, and you might attract some unwanted attention and unwanted advances." He continued. "This room automatically suggests that you are not merely a servant but someone special to the family. It means that you are less accessible and less open to any sort of advance."

Devonny seemed to consider this. She was silent. She wasn't sure how she felt about being under Gabriel's watchful supervision.

"Moira and Miles are two doors down. I have an apartment above the carriage house." He said watching her. "Come look at the grounds."

Devonny joined him at the window. 

"There used to be geometric gardens here when I was a child but they're gone now. Mrs. Davenport wanted a more natural looking environment. Trees, hills, etcetera." 

Devonny's gaze roamed over the land as Prince pointed out various structures in the distance that were also part of the estate. There was the North lodge which was built in the form of a triumphal arch. There were also entrance lodges in the village, a bridge, cascade and the Fishing Room situated on the edge of the upper lake. 

The Fishing Room, Prince told her, contained a cold bath and boat house below. There was also hexagonal summerhouse and an orangery. The Long Walk was planted with flowering shrubs and ornamental trees. 

"Goodness," Devonny sighed when Prince was done.

"Indeed," Prince said grinning turning at the commotion that could be heard downstairs. "The carriages must have arrived. Shall we? I'll introduce you to the rest of the staff."

Devonny nodded and followed him back through the maze of hallways and rooms.

***

She woke the next morning later than she had ever woken since coming to the Davenport household. The sun had already risen and there was a sense of quiet about the house. 

Devonny slipped out of bed, draped her shawl about her shoulders, and went to the window. There was movement on the grounds. She was sure everyone was bustling about getting ready for the Davenport's arrival. 

She went to her suitcase and opened it. She had precious few dresses that she came to the Davenport household with. They all needed mending and had definitely seen better days. 

She moved to one of the trunks placed next to the armoire. She lifted the lid and sighed. It was one of two trunks that contained everything that Elijah had bought her from Madame Baskett's. Moira had insisted that she bring it and that Eli was right, she shouldn't go about looking like a ragamuffin. 

Devonny opted for a fashionable yet conservative silk afternoon gown. However, dressing was a new task in itself. First came the chemise and drawers next to the skin and then the corset to shape the figure. Over these came under-petticoat, with a corset cover. Then came a stiffened petticoat, crinoline, or bustle. The skirt support was then covered by a decorative petticoat which peeked out of the bottom of the dress. 

Devonny looked at it all in dismay. This was the minimum number of petticoats that could be worn. It was fashionable to wear more but she had no interest in being fashionable, nor could she imagine carrying that much weight on her body. 

It took her longer than it had ever taken in her life to get dressed. When she was finished she stood before the mirror. The woman standing their was almost unrecognizable. The deep hunter green gown fit her body perfectly. Her waist looked impossibly small though she had laced the corset herself as best she could. The great bell skirt swished when she moved. She left off the hoop petticoat not wanting to worry about her skirts while she walked about the grounds or possibly chose to sit and read. 

She pulled her hair back into a simple bun before grabbing her gloves, bonnet and a book before making her down way to the kitchens. Breakfast was already being served to the staff and Moira, Miles, Prince and Matthew were already sitting, taking their tea, and chatting animatedly. 

Sadie and Ursula were the two cooks. Sadie was a middle-aged woman and rail thin. She had a closed solemn face and dark hair just beginning to become streaked with grey but her eyes were warm and she smiled faintly when Devonny entered. Ursula was a bit older and round. Her hair was all grey and she had a merry disposition. 

Devonny grabbed an apron from the hook on the wall and quickly tied it over the afternoon gown. She immediately went to join Sadie in making biscuits. "Oh no," Sadie shooed her. "I won't have you ruining that beautiful dress in the kitchen." 

Devonny laughed but did not stop rolling up her sleeves. "Fine, fine, just this once. Let me help." 

Devonny helped make the first breakfast to be eaten at Kedleston Hall and when they were finished they all sat down at the long dining table that was in the dining room of the servants' quarters. There were the two cooks, the staff from the city house, two plump housemaids (Laura and Rose), two valets, and four coachmen. The remainder of the staff was already hard at work and had broken their fast hours earlier. 

After the table was cleared Devonny took up her book and basket and stepped outside into the late morning sun. She put on her bonnet and tied the ribbon loosely under her chin and put a dainty pair of gloves. She then set off. 

She knew she should have brought a parasol but she didn't feel like being burdened down while she explored the grounds. She ventured far from the house, admiring the scenery. The grass was green, the sky was cloudless, and the air smelled clean and sweet. Finally she decided to settle beneath a tall oak. 

She put down her basket and and withdrew the quilt from within and spread it on the grass. She seated herself gingerly, only fleetingly worrying about crushing the gown. She drew forth her old cashmere shawl, a gift from Cecile, and draped it about her shoulders so that she could lean back against the tree. She withdrew a copy of the 'The Tempest' from the basket and began to read.

The only break in her concentration was the sudden eruption of loud familiar barking. Milo and Fritz, the Davenports' greyhounds had apparently arrived. Their masters were undoubtedly with them, and thus Devonny's reason for her morning venture from the house. 

She was going to stay out of Gabriel Davenport's way at all costs even if that meant staying out of the house. She would read outdoors, she would ride, learn to paint maybe. But whatever she did, it was going to be far far away from that man. There was no need to greet them now. Elijah would come find her eventually she was sure anyway. 

And so she turned her attentions back to her book and continued to read. She barely noticed the sun's progress overhead as time passed. Her eyes drifted from the page to the landscape. If there was a paradise on earth, surely this was it. And Kedleston Hall in the distance was the palace presiding over it all. 

She couldn't imagine growing up being privy to such wealth. What was it like having your every whim and desire assuaged. What was it like never to worry about what one was going to live one or how to survive on one's own? Elijah and Gabriel had lost their parents at a young age just as she had and yet there had always been someone to care for them. They would have never ended up on the streets, nor would they have ever gone hungry or stolen to survive. 

She lifted her gaze to the boughs of the trees and watched the light flicker in shafts through the leaves as the tree swayed in the wind. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Heaven, she felt like she was in heaven. And it wasn't long before she fell asleep.

***

It was the first roll of thunder that woke her. Her eyelids lifted slowly taking her surroundings. 

She could smell the rain though it hadn't fallen yet. The air had grown noticeably cooler. And the sound of the trees rustling filled the air. She hurriedly got to her feet shoving the blanket and book into the basket. She tugged her gloves back on and started out from under the tree only to have the downpour begin just at that moment. 

With a small cry she stepped back beneath the tree. Kedleston Hall looked impossibly far away in the distance. She glanced up at the rapidly darkening sky. Perhaps it would pass quickly. She would just wait it out. 

But the storm grew stronger, blowing her skirts around her and ripping her shawl from round her shoulders. The tree did little to protect her as the rain began to slant drastically sideways, drenching her in a manner of seconds. Tears began streaming down her face as she began to tremble with cold. She couldn't stay where she was. She had to try to make it back to Kedleston. 

It seemed as though she had been walking forever and yet Kedleston seemed so far away. She leaned into the wind, taking small steps as her gown was whipped every which way. And then she slipped. Her kid boot slipped in on the soaked grass and she pitched forward, catching herself on her hands and knees. 

She was sobbing now but the roaring wind drowned it out even to her own ears. She struggled to stand on her feet again only to fall once more down to her hands and knees. She was ready to collapse. She wanted to curl into a ball and lay down. 

"DEVONNY!" She heard her name being shouted and she looked up to see a large stallion carrying a cloaked riding coming towards her. She recognized Elijah's horse, Maddox, and she nearly cried out in relief as the horse was reigned to a halt and Eli jumped down. 

A pair of muddied riding boots came into view and she was struggling to get to her feet once more when two strong hands closed around her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. "Eli!" she shouted over the wind. She lifted her head and her eyes clashed with the narrowed emerald gaze of Gabriel Davenport. 

He pulled her against him, shielding her from the wind with his own body. His great coat flapped furiously around them. 

Gabriel stared down into her startled face. He was furious. What the hell was she doing out here? She was soaked through, her gown plastered against her body. Her lips were blue and her teeth chattered violently. She blinked at him through spiked lashes. "Gabriel?" He saw her lips move. 'Yes. Me. Gabriel,' he though to himself. Why did she have to look so bloody shocked to see him? 

He shook her. "Are you alright?!" he shouted. 

She nodded her head mutely. 

Gabriel quickly mounted Maddox and reached down pulling her up before him, seating her across his thighs and then tucking her inside his great coat against his body. He'd dreamed of having her this close, against him again but this wasn't how he had pictured the moment. 

Christ she was cold, he swore to himself. He was quickly soaked through beneath the coat but as least she was protected from the wind 

He pulled Maddox around and slowly began making his way back to Kedleston, not wanting the horse to slip and throw them both. 

He was halfway back to Kedleston when Prince and Elijah rode up to meet him and pulled their mounts alongside his. 

"Is she alright?" Elijah demanded. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Gabriel shouted back, answering both questions. He glanced down at her nestled against his body. Her thickly lashed lids were closed. She seemed to have fallen unconscious. She was pale, her lips still that faint bluish color. She was shuddering violently in his arms. 

He cursed under his breath and nudged his mount into a swifter trot. 

Moira and Sadie came racing out of the house into the rain when they rode up to the hall. Gabriel dismounted keeping the unconscious Devonny in his arms and striding into the house. He strode though the kitchen and through the halls, taking the stairs two at a time and striding into her bedroom as Moira, Sadie, and Elijah followed closely behind. 

Gabriel carefully laid her down on the settee and went down on one knee at her side. She didn't even stir as he quickly untied her bonnet and smoothed the wet strands of dark hair back from her face. "Devonny?" he said urgently patting her cool cheek. "Devonny?" Why wasn't she waking up?




Devonny Ch. 06



He felt someone pulling at him but he wouldn't be moved. 

"Gabriel," he heard Moira insistently at his shoulder bending over him. "Gabriel," she said again when he did not give any indication that he heard her. "We must get her out of those wet clothes." 

Gabriel glanced at Moira and then back to Devonny. He laid his warm palm of his hand against her face. 

"Gabe," Elijah's hand was on his shoulder. "Let them take care of her. You should change clothes too." 

Gabriel nodded his head at this and slowly stood. He allowed Elijah to lead him from the room, glancing back at Devonny before Moira closed the door behind them. 

***

Devonny burned. And then she froze. She was sick, she understood. She could hear Moira's voice floating around her and someone's soft masculine murmur. Gabriel? Or was it Eli?

She tried tried to fight through the darkness that enveloped her. She tried to open her mouth to speak but there was nothing only the darkness pulling her down further into its embrace. 



Devonny Ch. 07



Gabriel was pacing back and forth across the floral carpet in Devonny's room. It was late into the evening and he'd been there for hours. "Why hasn't she woken up yet?" he demanded of no one in particular.

Elijah watched his brother pace from where he lounged on the settee. "Gabriel you're going to wear a hole in the floor."

Their own private physician had come the morning after Gabriel had found Devonny soaked to the bone and wandering the grounds and once more earlier this very day. It had been three days and Devonny had yet to be fully lucid. She was in and out of consciousness and yet she seemed to have no idea where she was in her rare waking moments. 

"It's the fever," Elijah told him, his pale blue gaze following Gabriel's movements closely. "Doctor Lenox said she would be in and out of it as the fever rose and fell and that he doubts she will be very coherent until the fever breaks."

"Well, what the devil is wrong with her?" Gabriel demanded. 

Elijah shrugged, his face impassive though there was no mistaking the concern in his eyes. "Prince said she had a bit of a sniffle on the ride from London but nothing more. She was probably coming down with something before she got caught in the storm. And Doctor Lenox..." Elijah sighed. "Doctor Lenox said that her being unconscious is her body's way of recuperating. 

"Well, damnit," Gabriel growled. "It's been three days. What the devil are we paying the man for?" He glanced at Devonny laying in the large four-poster bed beneath a mountain of blankets. She looked unbelievably pale beneath her golden brown skin and her eyelids 

bore a bruised purplish tint. She alternately shivered violently with cold and then would kick at the blankets as she broke out into a sweat. 

"Be patient, Gabe," Elijah soothed. 

At that moment, Moira entered the room carrying a steaming tray. Gabriel stopped his pacing.

"I figured that we should try to feed her some more broth." She set the tray on the bedside table and Gabriel quickly moved to her side Moira lightly patted Devonny's cheek. 

"Devonny, child, please wake up," she said softly. "It's time for some more broth."

Devonny moaned and but made no indication that she had truly heard her. 

Moira glanced at him. "Help me sit her up?"

Gabriel nodded and moved to place and arm around Devonny's shoulders and lift her up off the pillow. Moira carefully spooned small spoonfuls of broth into her mouth. Devonny choked at first and then the hot soothing liquid went down more easily. 

Moira fed her until Devonny's brow wrinkled and she pulled away from the spoon. "Too hot," she mumbled. 

Gabriel's gaze flew to Moira's and Elijah stood. It was the most she'd said in two and a half days. 

Moira stood and put aside the bowl. "Gabriel, if you would call Sadie to me with more cloths and water." She began pulling the covers back. She looked at the two young men pointedly. "If you would excuse us, I'm going to wipe her down and see if we can get the fever to come down bit."

Gabriel didn't seem intent on moving. 

"Gabriel," Moira said softly. "I will let you know if there is any change."

Gabriel nodded to himself and left the room. 

Gabriel paused outside the doorway and Elijah placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll get Sadie, you need to get some rest."

Gabriel shook him off and started down the hall. "I'm fine."

When Elijah caught his arm in a firm grasp Gabriel tensed, his jaw clenching. Elijah carefully removed his hand but did not back away.

Eli looked at his brother through narrowed eyes. "You look awful. You haven't gotten any sleep. You haven't even shaved." He rubbed a hand over his own tired face. "Look, Moira said that she would let you know if there was any change at all." 

Gabriel lowered his head, hands on hips, and drew a deep breath in through his nose. Of course Eli was right. 

"Alright," Gabriel sighed patting Eli's shoulder. "You'll get Sadie?"

"Of course." 

Eli watched as Gabriel raked a rough hand through his dark hair and moved off down the hall towards his apartments in the eastern wing.

Elijah let out a heavy sigh and momentarily allowed the calm façade he'd been attempting maintain to drop as he glanced at Devonny's door. He sent up a silent prayer. Somehow this girl had woven her way into their lives and their hearts. 

He recognized that she had her bouts of sadness of late, though he endeavored to pull her out of it when he could. He hoped her fiery spirit was not failing her now. He could no longer imagine Davenport house or even life in general without her. 

***

Gabriel slowly lowered himself into the steaming hot bath that had been drawn for him and dropped his head back. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing deeply but he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that he'd felt since arriving at Kedleston. 

He hadn't thought much of it when they'd arrived and Devonny was not in attendance when the entire household staff had come to greet them. In actuality he'd been relieved. He'd wanted to maintain his distance from her while at Kedleston, and if she were willing to help him in that endeavor the easier it would be for the both of them. 

But Moira had come to Elijah hours after their arrival. She'd been wringing her hands, and wearing a worried expression on her face when she told Elijah that Devonny had gone out for a walk about the grounds and had not come back. 

Elijah might not have even told him that Devonny had gone missing Gabriel not caught him on his was to the stables. Gabriel gritted his teeth.

He'd fought the initial panic and the wild conclusions his mind had jumped to. He wondered if Rochard had followed them to the country. What if he'd taken her? Perhaps she'd had an accident and was laying hurt somewhere. The estate was huge. It could take hours to find her. His panic had been quickly followed by anger. What the hell was she thinking going off on her own?

He and Eli had strictly forbidden her to leave the house without an escort while in the city. The second she was outside of London she'd wandered off by herself. She was reckless and it infuriated him. 

He lifted himself out of his rapidly cooling bath and wrapped towel around himself. He glanced in the mirror. He's have his valet shave him in the morning. 

He wearily climbed into bed and after what seemed like hours of tossing and turning he fell into a fitful sleep.

***

Gabriel started awake after sleeping badly. He slowly sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. It was still dark outside and it was either very early or very late. 

Devonny had haunted his dreams and now she even haunted his waking hours. Cursing he threw back the covers wrenched on his clothes. 

He knocked softly on Devonny's door and upon hearing no response he quietly pushed the door open. The room smelled of Sadie's herbs. Moira was asleep in the armchair, her usually merry face lined with stress and worry.

Gabriel gently touched her shoulder causing her to start awake. Moira rubbed her eyes. Her voice was thick with sleep. "What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

Gabriel smiled fondly at the older woman. "Everything's fine. Why don't you get some rest?" He jerked his head towards the bed. "I can watch her."

"Gabriel..." Moira's face softened and her voice held a hint of sympathy. 

"I can't sleep," Gabriel grumbled. "I'll watch her." His gaze roved affectionately over Moira's countenance. "You need some rest too." 

Moira hesitated and glanced from the sleeping Devonny to Gabriel. It wasn't quite seemly that they should be left alone but she could see that Gabriel had no intention of leaving. 

She thought very carefully about her next words. "Are you sure you know what you're doing here, Gabriel?" 

Gabriel looked at Devonny, his eyes going soft. "I really have no idea."

Moira's bright gaze was searching his inscrutable expression. She lifted a gentle hand to his darkly shadowed cheek. "Be careful Gabriel." 

Gabriel ripped his gaze away from Devonny to stare at Moira. He loved the woman who'd raised him from infancy and she was rarely so forward with him. 

"Don't hurt her," Moira said softly.

Gabriel felt his heart seize at Moira's earnest tone. His brought his hand up to cover hers upon his cheek. "I don't ever want to hurt her," he said solemnly. 

A thin smile cuved upon Moira lips. "I know, darling. That doesn't mean that you won't. That girl loves you. Be careful with her heart."

The door clicked softly behind Moira as she left him alone, her words whispering across his mind in his absence. 'That girl loves you.' Gabriel stared at the carpet for what seemed like an eternity before he resolutely moved the armchair closr to the bedside so that he could look upon Devonny as she slept. 

Her face was serene and seraph-like in sleep though a line would periodically appear between her finely arched brows as she moaned and tossed her head.

Gabriel leaned his cheek against his hand and considered her silently from his seat. 

He couldn't fathom his attraction and his need to be close to her. She was everything that was unsuitable for him. She was poor, and beyond that she had no family to speak of. She'd been raised in a brothel for god's sake. And even if she'd grown up with a wealthy family there was still the issue of her skin color; her flawless golden brown skin.

If she had simply been poor with no family connections he would have been forgiven. A wealthy man could overlook a woman's poverty, her lack of station. If the lady in question was exceedingly beautiful the match would be understood and grudgingly accepted in society. 

But a match with a woman of another race would not garner the same tolerance. A gentleman's social status would be destroyed. His business connections would disappear and he would be cut in every sense of the word. He would cease to be considered a gentleman and his family name would be ruined.

Devonny moaned and shifted as though she sensed the troubled direction of his thoughts. Gabriel continued to watch her speculatively. She whimpered , a distressed sound. 

"No," she mumbled, tossing her head on her pillow. "Please don't."

Gabriel stood abruptly and went to her side. 

He reached out, unable to keep himself from touching her for a moment longer, and took her hand lightly in his. A line appeared between Devonny's dark brows and she murmured a deep, incoherent sound from the base of her throat.

Keeping her small cool hand in his, he stroked her hand lightly with his thumb, needing her to awaken just for a moment to reassure him though he knew it would be best if he simply allowed her to sleep. 

It seemed like an eternity before her thickly lashed lids twitched and she opened her eyes and turned her groggy, sleep-filled gaze in his direction. 

It was obvious the moment she recognized him, for she smiled faintly though with real joy. It was like being punched in the gut, causing his breath to hitch.

"Gabriel?" Her voice was hoarse and it rasped in her throat. She seemed confused by the sound and she frowned before swallowing thickly. "Gabriel what are you doing here?" Her voice was clearer but still tired and faint. 

Gabriel didn't answer immediately as she perused him with her heavy-lidded amber gaze. He couldn't think of a suitable explanation for him being with her alone in her bedchamber, clasping her hand in his own. "You've been very sick," he said carefully. "Influenza in the summer of all things."

Devonny frowned, concern etching her features. "You shouldn't be here. You could get sick too."

Gabriel grazed her with a gentle smile. "We Davenports have strong constitutions. Eli and I haven't been sick since we were boys. How do you feel?" 

She winced. "I hurt. Even my skin hurts."

Devonny glanced around at the room around her. The drapes were drawn closed over the windows. The room was lit by a single oil lamp burning on her bedside table. Her gaze roved over the aromatic tray of liquids and small bottles which held only god knows what remedies. 

She looked back to Gabriel who was watching her intently. "You've been taking care of me?"

At the soft look in her eyes, Gabriel wished he could have said that he'd been by her side nursing her back to health but he shook his head. "Moira and Sadie have been looking after you." He shrugged. "I couldn't sleep so I thought I might allow Moira to rest in her own bed tonight."

Devonny smiled faintly, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's so very sweet of you. I knew that you could be sweet." 

Gabriel grinned. She was rarely so candid with him. Her exhaustion had left her in a rare state of unguarded sentiments. 

He moved to the bedside tray and took up a small mug of one of Sadie's herbal mixtures. "Here," he said gently as he carefully lifted her head with his free hand. "They'll have my head if they find out you've been awake and I haven't given you any of this. It's cold now," he apologized. "But it should still do the trick."

Devonny obediently set her lips to the rim of the mug and drank, her nose wrinkling in distaste. 

Gabriel chuckled at her maligned expression before setting the cup aside and gently lowering her back to the pillow. 

She blinked slowly and her hand moved across the blanket as though searching for something. Gabriel tentatively touched her hand, feeling a tug in his chest when her delicate fingers curled around his own. 

Her voice was small. "You won't leave will you?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No. I will not."

This seemed to mollify her and she nodded to herself. "Good," she sighed deeply. 

Gabriel released her hand and carefully tucked the covers around her. He pulled armchair closer to her bedside and sat. She watched him beneath half-closed lids. 

"I'll be right here," he assured her. 

But she was already asleep. Gabriel leaned back and perused her silently. She looked very small lying there. She was a tiny thing really, dwarfed by the enormity of the bed. Her breathing was deep and rhythmic, and her face was turned slightly towards him. Her full shapely lips were parted slightly. She looked exhausted but she had been well tended. She wore a clean white nightgown buttoned up to her lovely throat. Her dark riotous curls had brushed, and the silken spirals lay spread upon the linens like a dark halo framing her face. She looked achingly beautiful, but at the same time terribly frail and worn. Her color, usually brightly flushed and golden brown, was now alarmingly pale and ashen it seemed. And the delicate bones of her face seemed more pronounced.

He watched her sleep until he too surrendered to sleep's pull, though her image stayed behind his closed lids and wove throughout his dreams. 

Not more than an hour later, her soft moans woke him causing him to start forward in his chair. 

She was shivering violently beneath the mountain of covers, her entire body shuddering. What was that sound? He leaned forward. Her teeth were actually chattering. 

Cursing, Gabriel stood and placed his palm against her brow. She still felt hot.

She seemed to press her brow against his palm and then nuzzled her cheek against the flesh of his hand. "Cold," she mumbled in sleep. 

Gabriel stood unsure what to do. He wanted to get Moira but the thought that Devonny might wake and find herself alone unsettled him. 

"Blast it," he growled and shrugged out of his dressing gown before kicking off his boots. He pulled back the covers and slid into bed next to her. He scooted up so that he was sitting, his legs stretched out before him as he leaned against the headboard of the bed. 

He carefully pulled Devonny against him and she immediately pressed her face against his side.

She almost seemed as though she were attempting to burrow into him as she snuggled against him, throwing her arm over his lap and winding one of her legs over his own. 

Christ she was burning up and Gabriel felt as though he were sitting next to a veritable furnace. Sweat beaded along his hairline within minutes. But her shuddering slowly ceased and her teeth stopped clicking. Gabriel held her tightly against his side, bringing the other hand up to gently smooth her dark curls back from her face. 

Gazing down at the girl sleeping in his arms, Gabriel was filled with uncertainty. It was an unwelcome emotion that he seemed to be experiencing more frequently since she had come into his life. He had spent the better part of that life molding himself into a man of decisive action. And yet he seemed to always be caught between inaction and the intense desire to act where she was concerned. He was in stasis. 

As a child, the deaths of his parents had left him feeling powerless and weak and he had determined early on that those sentiments would not follow him through life. He had mourned the loss of his parents privately, enduring stoically the weight of his grief in order to remain strong for his emotionally flamboyant younger brother. It was a burden he was prepared to shoulder alone. He preferred it that way. In his adult life he had spent little time cultivating his own emotional proclivities. He prided himself on being a private and self-sufficient individual. He kept his own counsel, and rarely was he in question over how to proceed, but he had never encountered a situation such as this one.

He'd spent months pondering what to do with the beautiful mulatto girl living under his roof and serving at his table. For many men in his position the answer would have been simple and would have needed little consideration. They would have taken her to their beds, willing or not, if they so desired. And yes, he did desire her, painfully so. But he did not wish to hurt her. He did not want to use her for his own lusts. 

In fact, he respected her. Admired her even. And though he was loath to admit it, he wanted her to feel the same about him. To seduce her would be doing her a disservice. He could not marry her. She could not be his wife, and he would not ruin her future prospects though the thought of another man having her rankled him immensely. 

It was a matter that required less decisiveness and more compassion and frankly, more genuine emotion than he had attempted in too long. He quite honestly did not know if he was up to the challenge and he was wary of testing the limits of his control.

Looking at the sleeping girl pressed against he said a silent prayer that he would do nothing to harm her by any means. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards ruefully as he marked the irony of the notion that he was offering up his prayers to the Almighty when in actuality he would have much preferred to control the outcome himself. But he was desperate he acknowledged. 

He was lulled by her gentle breathing and slowly her body seemed to cool to an almost comfortable warmth. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. Surely there was no better sleeping aid in the world than having her pressed against him. 

***

Devonny awoke slowly, shifting only to find that moving was not so easy accomplished as she had supposed. Her honey colored eyes drifted open and she found herself looking at the finely sculpted, stubble-covered jaw line of Gabriel Davenport. 

Her gaze followed the line of his jaw and over the sensual curve of his lips. He was asleep, his breathing deep and measured. She flushed momentarily at this highly intimate position. 

Sometime during the night she had slipped her hand inside his unbuttoned shirt. His flesh was warm and his heart beat strongly beneath her palm. She pulled her head back slightly from its spot against his shoulder to more closely peruse his sleeping face. 

She felt a twinge of jealousy at his long thickly lashed lids that fanned against his cheeks and at his perfectly patrician nose. The man was beautiful. His dark usually immaculate hair was mussed and falling over his elegant brow. Her gaze shifted lower once more to his mouth. 




Devonny Ch. 07



She remembered the kiss he had given her, not long after her arrival at the Davenport household. That kiss haunted her dreams. She remembered the sweet pressure of his mouth and the way he had skillfully parted her lips, how his tongue had delved into her mouth in the most caressing of ways. She thought of the way his strong muscled body had felt against hers and the feel of his arms crushing her to him. 

A sweet ache lodged low in her belly. She lightly ran her palm over the hard planes of his chest, the sparse silky hairs there tickling her flesh. And then she felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest halt.

Her eyes flew to his face to find his dark emerald gaze on her face. 

Gabriel looked at her closely from his intimate distance. She flushed, making a small noise in her throat and made to jerk away from him but he simply tightened his arm around her holding her firmly in place.

Devonny stared at him wide-eyed. A positively sinful smile spread across his handsome face and his deep voice rumbled through his chest, still husky with sleep and something else. "Good morning, love."

"Sir I—" she began.

"Gabriel," he corrected. 

She lowered her gaze to her hand still pressed to his chest, against his bare skin. "Gabriel," she murmured softly. She felt his fingertips brush delicately over her jaw line before slipping beneath her chin and gently yet firmly lifting her face to his. 

He seemed to leisurely examine her features. "You look better," he said absently as he ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. Her color had indeed heightened. But then he smiled roguishly wondering if it had more to do with their close proximity. 

Devonny was having trouble breathing. His face was mere inches away. And the way he was looking at her...

Gabriel suddenly pushed her onto her back and raised himself on one elbow to look down at her. Her lovely eyes were wide with shock. Her breasts rose and fell with her quickened breath. 

He laid his palm on her flat belly, marveling at the way his hand spanned nearly across her small waist. There was nothing really, just this thin layer of cotton fabric between her warm silky flesh and the bare flesh of his palm. He hardened instantly, straining against his breeches. It would be a small thing to simply pull up her nightdress and expose her to his ravenous gaze and wandering hands. The way she was looking at him, he was certain she would allow it. He groaned. He'd never wanted anything in the world more than he wanted to be inside her. 

Devonny's heart was beating so hard she was sure it was going to burst through her chest at any moment. Gabriel. Beautiful Gabriel was lying in her bed, running his hands over her belly looking at her as though she was the most wondrous thing in the world. 

"You're in my bed," she breathed softly, blinking rapidly in confusion when she realized she had spoken aloud. 

Gabriel met her gaze with a heated stare. She looked willing, oh so willing. He lifted a hand and slowly ran his fingertips over her collarbone, and then lower over the swells of her breast, pausing to fondle the peak with its hardened little bud. She arched slightly under his touch, a sweet feminine whimper escaping her lips. Gabriel felt his cock throb in response. 

His hand drifted lower, grazing her hip as he carefully avoided the apex of her thighs. Not yet. He drew the fabric up, groaning low in his throat as his fingers brushed against the impossible smoothness of her thighs. 

At the sound of her gasp he lifted his eyes to her face once more. Her eyes were dark with desire but there was something else too in their depths. Fear? Hesitation?

The thought gave him pause; awareness of what he was doing momentarily piercing the fog of his longing. He did not wish to frighten her. She deserved better than this. She deserved better than him. What was he doing? Fondling her in her sick bed? 

'You were going to do more than simply fondle her,' a voice whispered across his mind and he pulled his hand away suddenly. 

Devonny stared up Gabriel as he frowned and carefully smoothed her nightdress back into place. 

He would not meet her gaze. He was staring at his hand resting lightly on her belly. His voice was low. "I'm sorry, Devonny." He frowned, clearly agitated. "I apologize for what I was about to do." And he lifted his gaze to hers. 

Her heart turned in her chest at the look of anguish on her face. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it was alright and tell him that he had done nothing wrong, but her words caught in her throat. She had no idea what to say to him. Her eyelids fluttered closed as he leaned down and pressed a chaste—and yet not so chaste—kiss on her brow. 

He carefully slid from the bed as she stared at him. "I'll let Moira know you are awake." He lifted a hand as though he would touch her face, and then seemed to think better of it before dropping his hand to his side. "I'm glad you're feeling better," he said roughly before striding from the room. 

Devonny sat up on her elbows and stared at the closed door, before flopping back down on the pillow, immediately regretting the way the motion made her head throb dully. Gabriel Davenport was giving her a terrible headache. It 

It was nothing new. She frowned. Really, she would have thought she'd have been used to it by now.



Devonny Ch. 08



****To My Readers: I apologize profusely for now updating you more often. Between work and grad school I've had no time to write. I'm stealing movements here and there to try to get me thoughts down on paper. Thank you for being so understanding and wonderful XXdusky***

*

It was more than a week before Devonny could venture outdoors without anyone making a fuss over her. And when she finally did venture outside, she was to stay within sight of the house unless Prince or someone else accompanied her. All this coddling was about as much as she could take. She was still a bit out of sorts, she would admit, but she was not an infant.

She'd spent days cloistered in her room, seeing nothing of Gabriel although Eli, Prince and Moira were constant visitors. She would play cards with Eli or Prince while Moira looked on. Or she would read while Moira did some mending or sewing and simply chatted.

She could see from her bedroom window that overlooked the gardens directly behind the house, that Kedleston had grown livelier while she recovered. The Davenports were just now receiving visitors to their home. The gardens behind the house were often filled with people milling about. The women wore the most exquisite gowns she'd ever seen while the men were all immaculately dressed in the latest and most à la mode attire. It seemed that Kedleston was the most fashionable place to see and be seen and Devonny learned to avoid the crowds altogether, finding various ways to exit the house and avoiding the ever popular gardens. 

As she looked on, Gabriel and Elijah seemed to have no shortage of feminine companionship. Daily Gabriel would be seen walking with this waiflike blonde or that lovely brunette, while Eli could be seen chatting with one sensuous redhead or another curvy raven-haired beauty. It was obvious that they were in great demand and why shouldn't they be? They were young, rich, charming, and handsome and were most certainly the best matches and female could hope to make. 

Gabriel was most in the company of a stunning blonde. The woman was vaguely familiar but Devonny did not care to dissect the matter further. The lady was not overly tall but graced with sensuous curves emphasized by her striking gowns which were always the very height of fashion. There was no doubt that Gabriel was courting her and this lovely young lady would like nothing more than to be the next mistress of Kedleston Hall. 

Most recently Devonny could most often be found in the stables. Prince could almost always be found tending to the horses alongside Bernardo at any hour of the day if she were not out riding. She'd begun spent much time in the stables with Prince--in part-- to keep herself away from her tall windows looking out over the grounds were she'd have to watch Gabriel's courtship rituals. But she also felt that she was cultivating quite the relationship with Orion, the Andalusian who had quickly grown to be her favorite mount. 

But this morning her mind was not on riding or avoiding Gabriel Davenport. Instead her most pressing concern regarded the two gowns that she had laid upon the bed. She frowned deeply and fretted, pulling her dressing gown tighter around her. 

Today was important and she had no idea what to wear or what impression each gown would give to someone who knew nothing about her but whose approval she desperately wanted. 

There was a soft knock at the door. 

"Yes?" she answered absently, her gaze not wavering from the two gowns on the bed. 

Moira entered the room quietly and smiled at her. "I thought you might like some help dressing today." 

Devonny smiled at her gratefully though the unease did not completely leave her eyes. "Thank you," she murmured genuinely then sighed. "That is, if I can decide what to wear to begin with."

Moira joined her at the foot of the bed, her face taking on a similarly ponderous expression. Finally she mused, "I think you should wear the russet silk. It's understated but quite elegant." 

A small smile flitted over Devonny's face. "Of course you're right."

Moira beamed and gave Devonny's hand a firm reassuring squeeze. "Come, let's get you ready."

An hour later, Devonny was standing in front of the fully length mirror next to the armoire. She gazed critically her reflection, not quite recognizing the young woman standing before her. The gown was simple but there was no mistaking the fineness of the silk or the exceptional tailoring. Fine white lace undersleeves with broiderie anglais peaked from beneath the wide pagoda sleeves. Her waist looked impossibly small. With Moira's help, her corset was laced more tightly than she could have ever accomplished on her own. The skirt of the gown was wide over the crinoline and petticoat, causing her waist to appear even smaller. Moira had coiled her hair into a chignon at the back of her head while allowing a few curls loose to frame her face and the nape of her neck. Dangling pearl baubles hung from her ears and Devonny touched the pearls reverently thinking of Elijah and all his kindnesses. 

Moira appeared behind her in the mirror. "You look exquisite, love."

Devonny smiled uncertainly. "It's not too much?"

Moira shook her head and gently placed the matching silk bonnet upon her head, tying a comely bow to one side. "It's just right. And don't forget..." She handed Devonny a small beaded reticule, gloves and a parasol. 

Moira stepped back once more to examine her handiwork before clapping her hands together. "I wish Margaret could see you thus. She would be so proud." 

Devonny's lips curved upwards in a small smile. "I will be sure to write her and tell her all about it." 

"Come," Moira said gently, "We wouldn't want you to be late. 

Prince was outside the stables hitching up the two Andalusians. He was in his shirtsleeves and waist coat, his jacket and top hat on the seat of the phaeton carriage. A wide grin spread over his handsome face as he saw her approach. He stepped around the carriage and took both of her hands in his own so that he could better look at her. "You look absolutely fantastic," he smiled. 

Devonny laughed and dropped a small curtsy. "As do you," she complimented. He did look wonderful. He wore a crisp white shirt beneath a double breasted red silk waistcoat that was finely embroidered with gold swirls, and light tan breeches. His black cravat was perfectly tied with a pearl tie tack and his black boots were polished to a high shine. A gold pocket watch hung from the waistcoat pocket. 

Prince handed her up into the carriage with a mischievous smile. "My lady," he gave a slight bow causing her to giggle.

He then bounded around the side of the carriage and leapt up with a whoop. His excitement was infectious, causing her to momentarily forget her anxiety. He shrugged into his jacket and placed his top hat on his head before he took the reins in his gloved hands and they started off towards the Madison residence. 

Prince filled her in on the family. Elizabeth's father was a physician and was well respected in the area among blacks and whites alike. They were good people, he said, not given to airs because of their wealth but truly good and decent folk. Elizabeth's mother was described as the sweetest lady who had ever walked the earth and often visited the sick to make sure they were recuperating alongside her husband. And Miss Elizabeth...Prince positively glowed when he talked about Miss Elizabeth. "She's like a sunbeam," he said, "And quite accomplished." She played the pianoforte, spoke fluent French, she also painted. "And she loves books," he winked at Devonny. "Just like another young lady I know. Her father doesn't subscribe to the belief that reading addles a woman's brain." 

As Prince continued on to talk about the Madisons, Devonny admiration for them grew as did her trepidation. She did not see how they could possibly accept her into their circle. She was no one, less than no one. She was a young woman alone with a less than ideal upbringing. Her heart seemed to sink lower in her chest and she held back tears. 

Prince seemed to notice the change in her demeanor at once and slowed the carriage. "What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

Devonny shook her head mutely. No.

Prince slowed the carriage to a halt and looked at her, lightly grabbing her shoulders and turning her to him when she would have let her bonnet shield her face from him. His face softened at the sadness in her eyes. "Devonny," he said softly. "They will adore you as everyone adores you." He gave her a lopsided smile. "Who has been able to resist you thus far, huh?" 

Devonny's only answer was a faint smile. She hoped he was right. 

His voice was firm. "I will support you in whatever manner necessary, understand? No one will treat you unpleasantly, I promise. Understand?" Prince dabbed at her eyes with a white kerchief. "Now don't cry," he admonished. "It's going to be a lovely afternoon."

Devonny smiled at his indelible spirit and they continued on towards their destination. 

They'd driven a little over a half an hour when the stately manor house came into view. Prince pulled the along the drive. The home was impressive and surrounded by gardens and elegant walkways. There was a small fountain on the lawn. Devonny took a deep breath, absently smoothing her hands over the folds of her skirts. 

No sooner had Prince stepped out of the carriage and helped Devonny down, the front door of the manor house open and a lovely young woman clothed in lavender silk came striding out, her auburn curls bouncing. Devonny couldn't help but smile back at the young woman who was beaming at her. She had flawlessly beautiful skin the color of coffee with much cream in it and light brown eyes that complimented her auburn locks that she wore in loose curls falling about her shoulders. She was a perhaps an inch or two shorter than Devonny and curvy though her waist was tiny. Her smile was infectious displaying perfectly straight white teeth and long silky eyelashes above her crinkling merry gaze. 

Elizabeth took Devonny's hands in her own. "You must be Devonny," she rushed out. "It's so good to meet you. I've heard so much about you in Prince's letters. I'm sure we will be fast friends." 

Devonny's unease melted away at the girl's animation. She could see immediately why Prince loved her. She was just as he'd described her, a veritable sunbeam. Elizabeth then turned her gaze to Prince who was standing by, and cocked her head to the side giving him a genuine smile of happiness. Prince returned the smile and bowed slightly, extending his hand. "Miss Madison," he said solemnly though there was no mistaking the mirth in his eyes.

Elizabeth daintily gave him her hand and dropped an equally solemn curtsy. "Mr. Adams."

Devonny watched the exchange with interest. The air fairly crackled between them. 

"Elizabeth!" An older woman was coming down the walkway towards them. She was unmistakably Elizabeth's mother. They shared the same lovely features though Mrs. Madison was undoubtedly a bit more reserved. "Elizebeth Katherine Madison," she admonished, "I can't imagine why you find it acceptable tearing out of the house like a hoyden with your hair unbound and no bonnet and no gloves." 

"Miss Clarke," Mrs. Madison inclined her head to Devonny. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. I apologize for my daughter's..." she glanced at Elizabeth with mock sternness, "excitement." Mrs. Madison's gaze was amused despite her apology for her daughter's behavior. "She was raised by wolves," Mrs. Madison said straight-faced. 

"Mother!" Elizabeth gasped and Devonny could not help but laugh. 

"It's so good to meet you, Mrs. Madison," Devonny said smiling. "I'm honored you have invited me into your home."

Mrs. Madison gave her a shooing motion. "No need to be so polite, dear. Please call me Caroline. Come, let's inside for some proper tea and conversation," she said giving her daughter a pointed look at the mention of 'proper.' Elizabeth merely grinned.

Devonny and Prince followed the Madison women into the home. Mr. Madison was coming down the stairs when they entered. He was a tall bespectacled man with pure white hair though his chestnut colored face was still smooth and unlined. "Prince, my boy," his voice thundered and he drew Prince into a hearty embrace. 

"Sir," Prince returned when he had been released. 

Mr. Madison then looked on Devonny. "Miss Clarke, it's a pleasure to meet you." 

Devonny dipped a small curtsy, "And you, sir." 

Mr. Madison clapped Prince on the shoulder. "Come, let's leave the women to themselves shall we?"

Prince grinned in response and followed Mr. Madison towards the back of the house tossing Devonny a reassuring smile over his shoulder. 

Devonny smiled nervously. Elizabeth linked her arm through Devonny's. "Don't worry we don't bite." 

Caroline Madison led them to an elegantly decorated parlor where a silver tea server was set upon the table. Devonny sat next to Elizabeth upon the settee while her mother took one of the seats across from them. 

"How are you finding the country?" Caroline asked, pouring the tea into the delicate china cups. 

Devonny smiled. "It's been wonderful truly." She talked about riding and the books she was reading. She also talked about Kedleston Hall and the grounds when Elizabeth asked. The conversation flowed amiably and easily. It was just as Prince had said: they were wonderful people. 

Caroline Madison leaned back in her chair a thoughtful look upon her face. She looked at Devonny seriously. "Now, Miss Devonny, I do not want to offend you when I speak of this. And do not be put out with Prince for telling us of your past, it was quite necessary you see, and he only wanted the best for you." 

Devonny flushed, immediately realizing what Caroline was referring to. Of course, she was referring to Devonny's years growing up at Madame Pomfrey's. "I'm sorry ma'am I..."

Caroline Madison held up her hand to halt her though her expression was kind. "There is no sort of apology necessary. Prince has told us everything he knows of your past in hopes that you could still be brought out into our society despite it." She smiled gently, "Now having met you, I think it is entirely possible...pending you agree to some—let us say—embellishments and alterations."

"Ma'am?" Devonny ventured. 

"You were raised by a parish priest and his wife, no?" Caroline continued.

"Yes, ma'am." Devonny answered. 

"When they passed you then were in an orphanage before running away and being taken into a house of ill-repute." 

If possible Devonny flushed even deeper. Elizabeth lightly touched Devonny's hands in her lap. 

Caroline Madison took a sip of her tea. "What I mean by embellish and alter is simply that we change your story. I'm told you've little contact with well-to-do people of color?"

Devonny nodded. "None whatsoever ma'am until now." 

"That's good," Caroline nodded with approval. "Then no one will know you. We will introduce you as Prince's sister, who was raised by a parish priest and his wife until their deaths after which you were raised by the sisters at the Penbrook cloister until you were of age and you went to work for the Daveports, who your family was so close to, rather than take the cloth."

Devonny's eyes were wide. "Prince's sister?"

Caroline nodded. "Prince's parents were a decent sort of people but they died of the pox when Prince was but a boy. Prince's grandfather was very close to the abolitionist movement and thus very close to the Davenport's father. They were friends. When Prince's parents died and his grandparents feared that in their old age they would be able to care for him. He had no other family and his grandfather asked for Mr. Davenport to take Prince in if anything happened to him. And so Prince came to live with the Davenports who never treated him like a servant. His grandfather had left him a sizeable inheritance. You, Devonny, will be the sister that was sent to live in a far away parish. There is no one to dispute it, and with our family backing you no one will try to." 

Devonny stared at the woman across from her who had come up with such an elaborate story on her behalf. "You wish me to deceive everyone?"

A sad smile crossed Caroline Madison's lovely face. "I wish it did not have to be so. I wish that we lived in a world where people were judged not on past circumstances beyond their control but by the character and dignity with which they live their lives, but it is not so. You would think that with all our set has been through, that we would not alienate each other but I'm afraid this is the only way that we can circumvent the difficulty of your situation and secure you a possible future." 

Elizabeth squeezed Devonny's hand encouragingly. "And the only way we can truly be allowed to be friends." She looked hopeful. "Please, Devonny?"

Devonny drew a deep breath, a million thought whirling in her head. She nodded slowly, meeting Caroline's gaze. "I understand. I will do whatever you think is necessary." 

Caroline smiled a wide genuine smile and Elizabeth bounced on the settee next to her and clapped her hands. "Wonderful! This is going to be so much fun!" 

Caroline leaned forward sharing her daughter's enthusiasm. "Of course you must come visit often. There is much to do. We shall teach you the latest dances and other etiquette just to be sure although I have heard you are quite familiar with the current social graces." 

"And can we visit her at Kedleston?" Elizabeth breathed looking pleadingly at her mother. 

"If the Daveports will allow it, dear," her mother soothed. 

Devonny smiled. "I will ask them directly and send a note round." 

"Good," Caroline said, setting her teacup back in its saucer on the side table. "Shall we walk about the gardens and chat on a lighter subject?"

***

Prince apologized profusely though unnecessarily on the carriage ride home for telling the Madison's all about her past. As Caroline had said, he only wanted to help. Devonny assured him that he had done just that. 

It was still none too late in the day when they arrived back at Kedleston and Devonny went straight to the kitchens as promised to tell Moira everything. 

Moira quite agreed with Caroline Madison's plan and saw it as the best thing possible for Devonny. Devonny gave her a full account of the day while helping her arrange pastries on a silver server. The Davenport house was busy as always. Sadie bustled into the kitchen and took the tray while Moira set about making up another pot of tea. 

Moira took Devonny's face and looked at her with pride. "I knew you'd do wonderfully for yourself." And with that she took up the tea server and went off to the saloon. 

Devonny smiled after her only to look down and realize that she had forgotten the milk. "Moira, wait!" but she was already gone. 

Without thinking Devonny went after her. When Devonny reached the salon entrance she stopped short. It was filled with people, she wasn't dressed as a servant and there was no way she wanted to garner any undue attention. She would just wait until Moira came back out. Thinking to step out of sight Devonny turned and made to move to the side when she came into contact with a tall male frame causing the silver saucer to slip from her fingers to clank and skip across the marble floor. 

"Goodness!" Devonny bent immediately to retrieve the saucer and flustered took her handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe at the milk that had been spilt. But before she could bend to clean up the mess a firm hand took hold of hers and lifted her to stand.  

Gabriel lifted her to her to stand glancing at the spilled milk and quickly pulled her aside. "Leave it, you'll ruin your gown." 

Devonny defly tugged her hand from his and took a hasty step back. "Moira simply forgot the milk," she rushed out. "I was bringing it to her and then..." her voice trailed off at the intent look Gabriel was giving her. "What?"




Devonny Ch. 08



Gabriel barely registered her lips moving. He was too busy looking at the rest of her. He'd been on his way to meet Abigail in the parlor when he noticed a young woman pause in the doorway awkwardly holding a saucer of milk. All he'd seen of her was dark raven hair, and a very fine gown. He did not miss the smallness of her waist nor the way her hips flared out gently, or the delicate slope of her shoulders. It was a feminine form he had not yet been acquainted and he had been on his way to admire more closely when the girl turned right into him, the saucer of milk slipping from her fingers. She bent immediately to retrieve the saucer. Devonny.

Without thinking he bent immediately, taking her hand and raising her to stand when she would have begun cleaning up the mess. Her cheeks reddening at the touch of his hand, she quickly moved out of his grasp. He realized she was speaking to him but he didn't quite make out her words. He was stunned. 

"Gabriel?" she ventured noting the quizzical look on his handsome face. He blinked at her, that slight scowl he perpetually wore returning. 

"Where have you been? And dressed thus?"

Devonny blinked at him in return, taken aback by his question. "I went with Prince to call on the Madisons." A slight frown marred her brow at his tone. "They are people of quality and it is only right that I should be dressed thus." 

Gabriel looked sheepish and clasped his arms behind his back. "I did not mean to sound reproachful, Devonny. It's simply that..." his voice trailed off and his lips thinned as though he were thinking carefully about his next words. 

Devonny stifled a wearied sigh. It was always thought and caution with Gabriel. She dropped a small curtsy. "If you will excuse me sir." She made to skirt around him but his hand shot out catching her wrist in a gently yet unbreakable grasp. 

"Devonny, please," he said, his emerald gaze fervent. 

"Sir?" confusion flitted over her lovely features. 

Gabriels gaze roved over her face, drinking in the vision. "You look magnificent. I apologize I was caught off guard. I thought you were someone else." 

Devonny looked at him squarely. "You mean you mistook me someone you might actually speak to publicly."

Gabriel flinched inwardly at the resignation and lassitude in her tone. 

Devonny averted her gaze though he still held her where she stood. "Thank you for your..." she smiled wanly, "compliment although it's mostly Elijah's doing." She knew she was baiting him but she could not help it. The day had been mentally exhausting. The last thing she wanted was another encounter with Gabriel that would tear her emotions to shreds. Her voice was cool. "If you will excuse me, sir. I should like to change into something more...suitable."

He began to protest, "Devonny I—" 

"Gabriel?" A light feminine voice called to him from the direction of the parlor.

Gabriel froze and released his hold on Devonny as if he had been burned while Devonny took a swift step away from him, instantly recognizing Gabriel's constant companion, Abigail Harding. 

Devonny forced her most demure expression to her face and lowered her gaze. "Why Miss Abigail," Gabriel smiled his most charming smile and quickly moved to take Abigail's arm but the young woman's gaze was fixed on Devonny, taking in the fineness of the silk gown, the elegant coif of her hair, not to mention the pearl baubles hanging from her ears. 

The girl was strikingly beautiful Abigail was loath to admit. The girl was colored, yes, but she did not like the way her future fiancé had been looking at her when he thought they were unobserved. 

"Gabriel," Abigail cooed smiling sweetly up at him. "I was wondering what had delayed you. Aren't you going to introduce me?" 

Gabriel lifted one dark brow in consternation. "Abigail, this is Devonny Clarke."

"Charmed," Abigail smiled though the smile did not quite reach her eyes. "And you are visiting Kedleston Hall?"

Devonny opened her mouth to respond when Gabriel cleared his throat. "Devonny is a..." he seemed unsure of what to call her exactly. He frown. 

Devonny smiled tightly. "I'm a servant here, Miss," she offered stiffly. 

Abigail's flaxen brows lifted. "I see." The girl certainly did not look like any servant she had ever seen. Paramour perhaps. But this girl, dressed as she was, was certainly not anyone's servant. What game was Gabriel playing at?

Devonny looked at Gabriel and dipped a quick curtsy. "Sir," and then looked to Abigail. "Miss, if you would excuse me." And she all but fled the foyer without awaiting a response. 

Gabriel stared after her only to be jarred from his thoughts by a tug on his sleeve. "Why Gabriel, she doesn't look like a servant at all."

Gabriel smiled down at her thinly. "It is as she said, Abigail." 

"But why haven't I seen her before?"

"You most likely simply didn't recognize her. She's of the household staff back in London. She has the summer months off."

Abigail looked shocked at this. "And she resides here? I've never heard of such a thing."

A slight frown marred Gabriel's brow as he steered her back towards the parlor. "Would you like some tea, Abigail?" 

It was obvious that he would speak no more on the matter and Abigail allowed him to lead her into the salon though she cast one last glance in the direction the girl had disappeared. When she and Gabriel were finally engaged, getting rid of that girl would be the first thing she did. 

Devonny fled to her room closing the door behind her and quickly pulled the heavy damask curtains closed. Her face felt hot and her eyes burned at holding back tears. She angrily wrenched the pins from her coif, allowing her dark locks so fall past her shoulders. She buried her face in her hands, struggling to regain her composure. 

She almost screamed aloud at the knock on her door. She wanted to ignore it but the knocking only persisted. Swallowing thickly, she hesitated, her fingertips lingering on the door handle. She could not, would not, endure another heart wrenching encounter with Gabriel.

"Devonny?" came the masculine voice on the other side of the door. The anxiety drained out of her immediately. Eli.

Taking a deep breath and fixing her face into a pleasant expression she opened the door. 

Eli was leaning on the doorframe and he flashed her a roguish grin before allowing his gaze to roam leisurely over her form. "My, my," he drawled straightening and stepped around her to enter the room, "You look good enough to eat." He stepped close to her and brushed her hair back from her face to get a better look at the pearls hanging from her ears. His smile broadened. "I have exquisite taste."

Devonny returned his smile and deftly moved out of his reach to seat herself gracefully on the settee. "Don't you have guests to attend to, Eli?"

Eli rolled his azure gaze upwards and slumped into the armchair opposite her. "God save me from witless chits. If I have to go back down there I might be tempted to gauge my eyes out with flaming hot pokers."

Devonny laughed, "And yet your home is constantly filled with such charming young things."

Elie grimaced. "Yes, charming...all waiting to bleed my coffers dry and have a dozen rugrats running around."

Devonny lifted one ebony brow in amusement. "You don't wish to marry?"

Eli sighed and slumped lower into his seat. "Of course...one day. Maybe. Perhaps."

Devonny's lips twisted in a wry smile at his response. "Glad to see you're not in any sort of hurry."

Eli shrugged. "When I finally marry I want her to be..." he paused, contemplating his future wife. "I want her to be beautiful, and smart. I don't want to feel like ending my life after an hour of conversation with her. And I don't want some simpering doll. I want a woman with spirit."

Devonny couldn't help but laugh at his maligned expression. 

Eli slumped even lower in his seat. "At least I shall have a few more glorious years of bachelorhood once Gabriel marries," he grumbled. 

Devonny's smile faltered at the mention of Gabriel's impending marriage. She held no illusions whatsoever regarding their relationship. She was a servant, and the best she could ever hope for would be some sort of tryst, no more meaningful than that of any wealthy man and his serving girl. No, Gabriel Davenport was not for her but she'd be damned if she watched him marry and have children as if it meant nothing to her. Once again she reminded herself that her time in the Davenport household must come to an end before her heart was trampled any further. 

Elijah noted the dimming of Devonny's smile and the faraway look in her gaze. "Blast it, Devonny," he grimaced, causing her to lift her gaze to his once more. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I spoke of Gabriel. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings and ruin your good disposition. Forgive me."

She gave him a reassuring smile. "To be honest my disposition was not ideal before you came, and it's no fault of yours." 

Elijah shook his head and watched her carefully, gauging her reaction at his next words. "Gabriel has more patience for feminine whiles than I. 

Devonny crossed her arms and returned Eli's stare, not allowing a single flicker of emotion to cross her face. "So it would seem."

Elijah's flaxen brows lifted. "It bothers you not?"

Devonny mimicked one of Eli's nonchalant shrugs. "No. Why should it?'

Eli leaned forward, elbows on knees, his hands clasped. "Perhaps because you're in love with each other."

Devonny blinked at him. "Don't be absurd. Gabriel is not in love with me—in lust—that perhaps is true. But certainly not in love."

Eli cocked his head, his clear sapphire eyes roaming over her face. "He has acted on his lusts then."

Devonny's golden brown skin warmed, taking on a decidedly flushed look as she scowled and threw a decorative pillow from the settee at him. "Of course not!" she ground out and then her mind drifted back to the morning she had woken in Gabriel's arms and the wonderful sensations that his hands and lips had awakened. 

Eli easily caught the pillow and tossed it aside. But he did not miss the traitorous flush of her cheeks. "Ha!" he exclaimed, jarring her from her sensuous thoughts. "So he has acted!"

Devonny's scowl deepened as she rose regally to her feet with a swish of silk. She moved to the tall windows and drew back the curtains. "Your brother would not lose control like that, Eli. You should know that." 

Eli stood and came to stand behind her where she stood gazing out the window. He gently trailed his fingers over her hair. The sweet delicate scent of her washed over him. His voice was low. "I also know that he's never struck me before with the intent to do me grievous bodily harm,—not until he thought that I had bedded you. That doesn't impress upon me that he is a man in control. I haven't seen him so tortured over a woman since..." his voice trailed off. His fingers continued to lightly comb through her dark locks. 

She turned to him, her arms wrapped around herself. 

Gazing down at her, Eli thought she looked decidedly small and sad. He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger to better look at her face. He sighed. "I dislike it immensely when you look so lost and forlorn. It distresses me."

She merely smiled weakly at his words.

Eli then bent and kissed her softly upon her full pink lips, his handsome face breaking into a wide grin at her shocked expression. "That's much better. Come," he said cheerily. "I want to take you riding." He flung open her armoire and quickly scanned its contents before pulling forth a dark navy riding habit and laying it on the bed. "I'll meet you in the stables in a half an hour." He tossed her a cheeky grin before he breezed from the room. 

Shaking her head, Devonny crossed the room and closed the door behind him before she began the arduous taking of and undressing herself and then dressing herself once more. 

She met Elijah in the stables. Orion was already saddled with a lady's saddle. He brought Maddox up beside her mount. 

Eli grinned when he saw her, taking her in from her veiled topper hat to the tips hem of her gown. "My God," he said, coming towards her. "You look every inch the lady."

She laughed, "Well I suppose I should, considering the absurd and completely inappropriate wardrobe you purchased for me...which I completely adore." She shook her head as Eli took her hand and turned her in a slow circle so that he could take in the full view. 

Eli chuckled at her mildly self-conscious expression and lifted her swiftly into the saddle before she could protest. Devonny hooked her knees around the pommels and arranged her long full skirts. 

Eli gracefully mounted Maddox and glanced over at her. "You sit a horse well," he praised. 

Devonny merely returned his look and threw him a cheeky smile before nudging Orion into a trot after him as he started off. He urged Maddox into a gallop when they were past the house and gardens. 

Shaking her head at Elijah's obvious challenge to keep up with him, Devonny spurred Orion into a gallop and followed Elijah as they flew over the grounds. 

Laughter bubbled up from her throat. It was a thrilling feeling the wind whip by her as the scenery sped by them and the left Kedleston Hall in the distance. She felt elated at the sense of freedom. 

Eli glanced over his shoulder at the sound of her laughter and grinned at the blissful expression on her lovely face. It was exactly what he had been hoping for. 

Looking forward once more, he noticed three riders in the distance coming towards them. He slowed Maddox to a trot. 

When Eli slowed Maddox to a complete halt, Devonny reined Orion in next to him as she caught her breath. But Eli wasn't looking at her. He was frowning and watching the approach of three riders, two male and one female. 

Devonny glanced at Eli, taking in his expression that was very near a scowl. Her gaze darted between him and the approaching group. "I can go if you like," she offered. "If you don't want to be seen—"

"No," Eli's gaze flickered to her and immediately softened and he shook his head at her misunderstanding. "It's not that. It's merely someone I do not wish to see."

The riders were elegantly dresses, and sat atop magnificent mounts. The woman was striking. Her skin was pale ivory and contrasted with the dark raven curls that were pulled back from her face to fall artfully over one shoulder. Her face was exquisite, delicate though with full pink lips and wide thickly lashed eyes. 

The young man riding next to her was undoubtedly her brother. He had the same ivory skin and raven hair complimented by the same yet more masculine features of his sister. 

Yet it was the third rider of the group that caused her to stiffen in her saddle, her heart plummeting into her stomach. Andre Rochard sat haughtily astride his mount, a wide smile spreading over his face when his gaze slid from Elijah Davenport to her personage. The coldly handsome man's pale blue eyes roved brazenly over her form, smiling when she shifted in obvious discomfort at his perusal.

"Eli," Devonny murmured, distress causing her voice the waver.

Eli glanced at her, hearing her softly speak his name and hearing the obvious angst in her tone. He frowned. "Devonny?"

"Well, Elijah Davenport," the woman said in a lovely lilting voice. "Imagine running into you like this. It's been too long."

Wrenching her gaze from Rochard, Devonny watched a muscle tick in Elijah's jaw. "Isabella," he acknowledged. "Marcus," he nodded to her brother. He looked Rochard, waiting for an introduction but Isabella went on, her gaze switching to Devonny.

"Why Elijah," she cooed, "Are you going to introduce us to your friend?" Her tone was cajoling and mirth danced in her eyes though Devonny detected a hint of malice in her demeanor. 

Rochard urged his mount forward, bringing himself alongside Devonny. Eli frowned at the man's obvious and forward interest in Devonny. "This is Miss Devony Clarke," Eli said darkly. Devonny gave no inclination that she had heard Elijah speak at all. Her gaze was fixed on the man at her side. 

"Miss Clarke," Rochard nearly purred, taking her gloved hand and bringing it to his lips while keeping his icy gaze on her face. 

Devonny wrenched her hand away, the sudden movement causing Orion to toss his head and prance sideways skidishly, sensing his rider's discomfort. 

Eli was surprised at Devonny's abrupt dismissal of the man. Always the picture of politeness and decorum, the coldness was unlike her. His gaze narrowed on the man who stared transfixed at Devonny who looked as though she'd like nothing better than to bolt.

"And your name sir?" Eli nearly growled.

The man's gaze flickered to him dismissively. He seemed irritated that anyone had dared divert his attention. "Andre Rochard."

Eli frowned at the name as it sparked recognition. Glancing between Devonny and Rochard he suddenly recalled the name. Fury coursed rapidly through his veins as he instantly moved to rein Maddox around and come between Rochard and Devonny. Rochard's mount snorted and pranced anxiously as Rochard moved away. 

Eli was practically vibrating with rage as he gripped the reins so hard his hands ached. His voice though, was deadly calm when he spoke. "You shall remove yourself from my presence, sir." 

Rochard's face turned angry, suffused with red. 

Eli's face was hard. "Come near her again and I will not be responsible for my actions." Rochard did not respond and the two men merely glared their hatred at one another. 

"My word, Elijah," Isabella intervened. "I had heard that you were quite fond of your new...friend, but really the jealousy is uncalled for."

Eli threw her a scathing look. "As usual Isabella, you miss the mark." His livid cobalt gaze swept the three riders to settle on Rochard once again. "Stay off our land." 

Rochard looked as though her were going to explode as Elijah nodded to Isabella and her brother, "If you will excuse us." 

Devonny couldn't wheel Orion around fast enough, urging him into a gallop and not slowing until Kedleston came into sight. She was breathing hard when she led Orion into towards the stables with Eli close behind. He pulled Maddox to a halt, dismounted, and moved quickly to lift her down from her horse. He did not release her immediately, scrutinizing her face. "Are you alright?"

She nodded stiffly, mumbled, "I'm fine," and pulled out of his grasp before striding towards the house. 

"Bernardo!" he called and the groomsman came out of the stables. Elijah tossed him the reins and went after Devonny who was already disappearing into the house. 

Devonny walked swiftly, cursing under her breath. Lifting her skirts, she took the back stairs two at a time. She nearly ran down the hallway and turned the corner only to see Gabriel Davenport standing at her door. She swore softly and stopped short before quickly retreating back around the corner. 

"Devonny!" Eli shouted, coming from the direction of the stairs. Devonny halted abruptly, caught. Surely Gabriel had heard him. She sighed, shoulders slumping as she waited for them to reach her. 

Eli strode towards her looking piqued. 

"Devonny?" Gabriel's voice sounded behind her, bewilderment evident in his tone. 

Eli met his brother's gaze over Devonny's head, his face wearing an expression of gravity that was unusual on his generally amiable face. 

Gabriel's brows drew together at the solemnity of Eli's countenance. "What is it?"

Eli glanced at Devonny who looked as though she wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. 

Eli sighed and looked at Gabriel whose gaze was fixed on Devonny who was giving the floor her most devout attention. 

Eli cleared his throat. "We were out riding when we encountered Isabella and her brother."




Devonny Ch. 08



"Isabella?" Gabriel inquired roughly. 

Elijah nodded. "But that's not the worst of it. They were riding in the company of a Monsieur Andre Rochard." 

Eli's statement was met with silence. The tension between the three was palpable. Devonny squirmed inwardly. 

Gabriel cleared his throat. His voice was low. "Perhaps we should discuss this privately in the study. Devonny?"

She wrapped her arms around herself and gave a noncommittal shrug. 

She considered not following them when the men moved towards the main staircase but Eli noticed her hesitation and grasped her hand and pulled her along behind him, leading her towards the study. 

Once in the expansive library Eli led her to an armchair but did not seat himself. Gabriel, too, remained standing. 

The two brothers stood side by side, arms crossed, sharing the same examining expression as they looked at her. 

Devonny squirmed inwardly, her gaze switching between the two, at first confused and then indignant. A slight line appeared between her brows and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well are you going to just stand there looking at me like that or did you have some wisdom you wished to impart? Fiat perhaps?"

Gabriel and Eli exchanged glances. 

Devonny scowled. "Say something. Please."

Gabriel frowned and looked at Eli. "Do you think he followed her here?"

Eli's expression turned dark. "It's possible. But it's a season in the country. Anyone with the means retires to the country. It could simply be a coincidence." 

"Coincidence or not," Gabriel grumbled, "he knows she's here." He eyed Eli speculatively. "What was your impression of the man?" 

Eli glanced briefly at Devonny who was glaring at them both. "He seems... fixated on her. He seemed downright enraged when I inserted myself between them. I'm certain he'll try to see her again." 

"Excuse me," Devonny rose to her feet. "But I don't care to be ignored in a conversation that regards my own welfare." 

Both men looked at her with blank expressions. 

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Well what do you expect me to do? Lock myself in my room?"

They seemed to consider this. 

She fixed them each in turn with a defiant stare. "No." She gritted her teeth. "Absolutely not. I am not going to let that man make me a prisoner, so you can forget about it." She drew herself upward and lifted her chin. "To be quite honest, it is none of your affair." She smoothed her skirts absently and swallowed thickly. "If you will excuse me." 

"Devonny," Eli reached for her but she deftly skirted his grasp. 

She dropped a curtsey. "Good day, sirs." And she swept from the room. 

Eli and Gabriel looked after her. Eli glanced at his brother, taking in the look of consternation on his face. "You haven't told her have you?" Eli's voice was solemn. 

Gabriel's dark brows drew together. "About Rochard?" He shook his head. "No. I didn't want to frighten her more than necessary." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't consider that he might be here, otherwise I might have been more watchful."

Eli grimaced. "She's headstrong, Gabe. Impetuous, too. She needs to be told otherwise she might not fully understand the danger. And you need to be the one to do it." A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I feel as though I lack any sort of authoritative clout with her. 

Gabriel nodded absently to himself. "Of course." 

Eli clapped him on the shoulder, suddenly good natured. "Wonderful. I'll see you at dinner then." 

***

Devonny sat at her vanity staring at her reflection in the mirror as she plaited her hair into a thick dark braid over her shoulder. Her fingers moved idly as she considered the planes of her face in the low light of the oil lamp. Her face was oval shaped and pleasing with high cheekbones. Her eyes were almond shaped and fringed by thick black lashes, their amber color giving her a decidedly exotic look. Her nose was piquant and straight. Her lips were full, her upper and lower lips almost equal in proportion. Her hair was dark—almost black—though sunlight revealed deep brown and auburn tones. She was pleasant enough to look at, she knew, but Rochard's prolonged and persistent interest in her was unfathomable. 

She frowned at her reflection. He was a man who could have any woman or courtesan in England, and yet he pursued her with a singular intent. It was both bewildering and frightening. She fully believed that her encounter with him that day was purely coincidental, though she wasn't so naive as to believe that he wouldn't seek her out now that he knew her whereabouts, no matter what threats Gabriel and Eli offered. 

The soft tapping at her door jarred her from her thoughts, causing her to jump slightly. She quickly tied a ribbon around the end of her braid and slipped her dressing gown over her night dress. 

She opened her door, for once none too surprised to find Gabriel standing there. She'd assumed that a lecture was coming but he'd waited hours before coming to her. He stood stiffly in the hall, hands behind his back. "Devonny," he acknowledged simply, his deep voice betraying nothing. 

Devonny blinked at him. "Gabriel," she returned, her tone just as formal and aloof as his own. 

Gabriel lifted one obsidian brow. "I would speak to you if I may. Perhaps we can return to the—"

Instead Devonny cocked her head and simply held the door to her room open. There was a decided challenge in her amber gaze as she looked at him. If he was determined to hold to decorum, she would make it as difficult for him as possible and push the limits of his control. 

Gabriel made no move to enter. His cool emerald gaze switched to her face. "I think it would be best if..."

"Gabriel," she sighed. "I'm in my bed clothes. I don't think it seemly that I wander about the house with you as such." 

He was caught slightly off guard by the way she sighed his name. He frowned, nodded and stepped around her to enter her bedroom. 

Devonny wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her and gestured for him to have a seat in the sitting area. He seated himself upon the settee while she sank into the armchair across from him awaiting whatever edict he was going to pass down. 

Gabriel leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped. I didn't truly meet her gaze. Instead his gaze was distant and unfocused. 

"Gabriel?" Devonny ventured when moments passed without him speaking. His dark green gaze lifted to her face and the corner of his finely sculpted lips curved upwards slightly at his name on her lips. Not 'sir', but Gabriel.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I was simply thinking of the best way to tell you this."

Devonny's unease was growing. "Tell me what?"

Gabriel leaned back in his seat, his eyes roaming over her speculatively as though he were taking her measure. He frowned slightly, his impossibly green gaze settling on her face. "I would not have you think that I have not had your safety in mind, or that I had forgotten my promise to you."

She cocked her head slightly. "Your promise?" 

Gabriel nodded solemnly. "My promise that I would allow no harm to come to you. After that day in London, when you first told me of Rochard, I hired someone, an investigator of sorts." He watched astonishment flicker in Devonny's amber gaze and she shifted slightly in her seat. "Rochard came to London by way of Paris last year. He's wealthy and had a prominent place in society there."

"Had?" Devonny frowned at his choice of words. 

Gabriel grimaced. "It seems Monsieur Rochard has always had a way of having many women, many of them courtesans. It'ss not uncommon for a man of his wealth in Paris. Although there are hints that his whims with regards to those relationships were not always..." Gabriel's voice trailed off as he searched for the correct word. "Gentle." 

Devonny was silent. Gabriel watched her lovely gaze go distant as he continued. "However, despite whatever rumors, Rochard was rich enough and charming enough that the rumors were regarded as just that, rumors. Rochard was paying court to a young woman. She was from a good family, uncommonly beautiful, wealthy and most sought after in society. However once they were betrothed, it would seem that Rochard saw fit to force himself upon her use her as he would one of his light-skirts. Appalled by his... caprice ...the girl refused to marry him. She was ruined, however, and forced to retire from society. Rochard was not left unscathed. No mama will let him near their daughters no matter how fat his purse is. Over the years mistresses have disappeared, whether they have fled from him or whether something more distressing has happened to them I do not know." A muscle ticked in Gabriel's jaw. "I've had my investigator keep an eye on him while in London. However, I did not think it necessary when we came to Kedleston. I'm afraid I did not consider that he might be here. I apologize for that oversight." 

Devonny gaze was still distant she idly toyed with the length of her braid as she mentally sorted through all that Gabriel had just told her. When she looked into his face he seemed to be bracing himself for some sort of feminine outburst. But her voice was level and quiet. "Do you think him dangerous?"

Gabriel returned her look seriously. "I think that if he has fixed his attentions on you...and I believe he has, then yes, I think him dangerous."

Her voice then wavered. "What would you have me do?"

Gabriel ran a rough hand through his dark hair and shook his head before looking at her steadily. "I would have you ride with me tomorrow." 

Her startled gaze flew to his. "Ride with you?"

Gabriel grinned at her expression. She looked both stunned and taken aback. "Yes," he replied smoothly. "Ride with me. I would show you how to defend yourself." 

Devonny's honey gaze widened. "Defend myself? Sir, I—" 

Gabriel held up a hand to halt her. "Eli and I cannot watch over you every moment of every day."

Devonny frowned. "Nor would I expect you to."

"And as such I don't want you to be helpless," he returned. His tone brooked no argument, nor did his dark peridot gaze waver.

Devonny lifted her chin but nodded her assent. 

Gabriel rose to his feet. "I'll meet you by the stables after breakfast." 

"Of course," Devonny moved to the door and held it open for him. "Good night, sir."

Gabriel moved past her, careful not to brush against her. "Good night, Devonny." 

Closing the door behind him, Devonny leaned against the sturdy oak surface. She absently rubbed the flesh on back of her hand. Rochard's kiss seemed to linger there like a brand. She knew, just as Gabriel seemed to, that Rochard was not simply going to let her go.



Devonny Ch. 09



**To all the amazing readers who emailed me and left messages, thank you for all your encouragement and patience. I apologized that life got in the way (grad school, work and planning my wedding). But this story and the other have constantly been in my head, still taking shape. I've been writing on napkins and scraps of paper when I should be paying attention in class or in meetings and things are slowly beginning to come together once more. I'll be working hard and stealing time to continue these stories. 

xx, 

Dusky**

CHAPTER NINE

Devonny shook her head vehemently. "Gabriel, no. No, no, no, no. This is a terrible idea."

Gabriel Davenport thrust the handle of the 1851 Colt Navy pistol at her. "Damn it, Devonny. Just take it." 

Devonny backed away from him shaking her head, her voice pleading. "I can't. I just can't. I can't shoot someone!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes heavenward. "You're not going to shoot 'someone.' You're going to shoot Rochard if necessary. 

"Gabriel, I can't kill anyone!"

Scowling, Gabriel caught hold of her waist, turned her around none-too-gently, and pulled her back against his chest. His arm held her securely and immovably against him. "If you're not going to kill him, at least maim him."

His lips brushed against her ear. "Devonny, take it," he growled and pressed the smooth wooden handle of the gun into her hand, releasing the weapon when he was certain she held it. 

They had ridden out this very morning to the farthest reaches of the property where they had dismounted and Gabriel had calmly drawn forth a pistol. He had nodded towards a tall gnarled tree with a faded bulls eye painted on its broad trunk. 

Gabriel's voice was low. "My father brought Elijah and I here when we were young. This is where I learned to shoot. And now you will learn here as well."

Gabriel did not release her immediately but firmly guided her arm upwards, taking her other hand and carefully wrapping it around the handle as well. "It might be a bit of a kick for you," he explained, "so use both hands if you can. Keep your right hand slightly loose but pull back with your left. That should keep you steady." 

Devonny trembled, her hands visibly shaking as the gun wavered. "Gabriel--" 

"Shhh..." 

Gabriel's hands were on her shoulders, steadying her. "Now take a deep breath," he soothed. "You want just the tip of your finger on the trigger. When it comes time, do not jerk it, but squeeze the trigger firmly. Now focus your gaze down the barrel and use the sight." 

He took a small step back from her. "Cock the hammer back with your right thumb firmly." 

Devonny did so, swallowing thickly. 

"Now, aim carefully and squeeze the trigger gently. Smoothly..." his voice trailed off, waiting. 

Devonny's body immediately missed the secure feel of him pressed against her but she pushed that yearning feeling aside and looked back to the faint target painted on tree trunk. She did as he said. She breathed deeply and tightened her grip on the pistol. She kept her right arm slightly relaxed while she used her left to pull back slightly and steady the gun. Looking down the barrel of the gun sight, she centered it on the target and squeezed the trigger. 

***

The ride back to Kedleston was more amiable than she would have imagined it could be. Gabriel talked about his childhood summers at Kedleston while his parents were still living, pointing out the scenes and locales of his antics with Elijah.

Devonny attempted to envision him as a dark haired, vibrant eyed little boy without all the weight he seemed to carry on his shoulders now. 

They talked about Prince's upcoming engagement announcement and the Madison family and Devonny's upcoming entrance into respectable black society.

When they pulled their mounts to a halt in front of the stables, Devonny felt a flutter of disappointment that their time together was ending. It was so rare that they had a moment together in which they were at ease, not sniping at each other or at each other's throats. There was no tension, no tenuous reigning in of emotions. 

Dismounting from his horse, Gabriel reached up and lifted her down from Orion's back. His hands lingered on her waist a bit longer than was proper. 

Bernardo emerged from the stables. "Ah, Master Davenport and Miss Devonny, how was your ride?" he beamed at them. Devonny hurriedly pulled out of Gabriel's grasp, flushing and smoothing her skirts.

"You have a guest, Miss Devonny," Bernardo nodded to her. "Waiting in the parlor."

A thin line appeared between Devonny's dark brows. "Guest?" Never had she had a visitor since she had come to the Davenport household. 

Her gaze switched to Gabriel whose expression was darkening to a fearful expression. It was as though she could almost see his thoughts settle on Rochard as a muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. He turned on his heel and strode towards the house leaving Devonny to stare after him a bewildering moment before she took off after him, lifting her skirts to as not to trip over them. 

"Gabriel—" she reached for his arm but he shook her off, continuing to stride purposefully towards the house. He hesitated only briefly at the closed doors of the study yet it was only to cock back his booted heel and place a well aimed kick at the door, sending it flying open as he withdrew the pistol from his shoulder brace in one fluid motion and aimed the barrel it at the "guest" within. 

Elizabeth Madison shot to her feet from her place on the settee, the color draining from her lovely face as her hands flew to her breast. 

Gabriel froze for a beat, "Miss Elizabeth," he said stiffly and he lowered the weapon immediately as Devonny skirted around him and rushed to Elizabeth's side. 

"My God," Devonny took Elizabeth's hands. "Are you alright?" she asked shooting Gabriel an accusatory look. 

"Gabriel, you've scared her half to death!" Devonny admonished. 

Gabriel's intense gaze switched to Elizabeth and softened. He tucked the pistol back into its holster beneath his jacket, inclined his head, and spoke in that deep honeyed baritone he used when he was particularly intent on being charming. 

"Miss Elizabeth," he began sincerely. "I apologize for frightening you, please accept my humble apologies I had thought you were someone else." 

Elizabeth smiled a small tight smile. "Well, it's good to know that you mistook me for someone else and weren't truly intent on shooting me." 

Gabriel looked chagrinned and switched his gaze back to Devonny. "I shall have some tea sent." 

Devonny met his gaze and shook her head. "Thank you, Mr. Davenport, sir, but we'll simply retreat to my room should you have need of the parlor." 

Devonny watched his gaze darken at her formal tone as she once more reminded him that in the company of others, he would always be 'Mr. Davenport, sir,' and she would simply be a servant—a finely dressed servant—but a servant nonetheless. 

His gaze lingered on her a moment longer than necessary. "Of course," he said simply. "Ladies." He inclined his head once more before leaving them quite alone. 

Devonny turned to Elizabeth. "Are you alright, truly?"

Elizabeth's lips tugged upwards in a genuine smile. "Yes. Never a dull moment with the Davenport boys is there?" She laughed. "Imagine my shock when Gabriel Davenport storms into the parlor like some brazen pirate captain taking a ship, gun drawn and ready. And looking quite dashing too though my life passed before my very eyes." 

Devonny laughed at Elizabeth's good humor. "True he can be frightening. Frightening, but still dashing." She nodded to the stairs in the foyer. "I'm so glad you've come. Shall we?"

Devonny led Elizabeth through the house to her room. Tea on a silver server was already on the low table before the settee when they entered. 

Elizabeth gazed around the room taking in the heavy dark cherry bed, vanity, armoire, and writing desk as well as the heavy damask curtains, floral carpets, and the equally impressive finely upholstered armchairs and settee. 

"Good gracious," Elizabeth breathed. "This is your room?"

Devonny lifted one petite shoulder and smiled looking a bit abashed. "I know, it isn't exactly fitting but the Davenports have been inconceivably kind to me." 

Elizabeth gracefully sank into the settee with a radiant smile and removed her bonnet from her auburn curls. "I can see that, you lucky girl." She smoothed the stray locks back from her face. "So what was all that excitement about downstairs?" she asked lifting one finely arched brow. "Although I must admit, Gabriel Davenport looks rather handsome when he's full of fire and indignation, storming through the door with pistol in hand." 

Devonny winced, smiled sheepishly at her friend's assessment, and seated herself beside Elizabeth. She reached to pour the tea, taking a deep breath. "I was out riding with Elijah yesterday when we came upon a party or riders. Andre Rochard was among them. 

Elizabeth started "Rochard? The man who—"

Devonny nodded. "The same." Elijah was furious and Gabriel—Gabriel demanded that I ride out with him this morning so that he could teach me how to shoot. 

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Goodness!"

Devonny smiled tightly. "Goodness is right," she conceded. " But Rochard was fresh in his mind when Bernardo told him that I had a visitor. I'd never had a visitor before." 

"So he assumed that your visitor was Rochard," she murmured. 

Devonny nodded, taking a sip of her tea. Elizabeth continued to gaze at her with renewed interest. "So Gabriel Davenport was intent on shooting a man on your behalf." 

Devonny flushed slightly. "It's nothing untoward, I promise you." 

Elizabeth made a shooing motion with her fan. "I don't doubt it. But such a man, Devonny..." her voice trailed off. 

Her words hung in the air between them. Devonny blew out a breath of air and flopped back on the settee. "I know." 

Elizabeth laughed at her friend's assessment, withdrawing a small envelope from her reticule and handing it to Devonny. 

Lifting her brows in question as Elizabeth said nothing but gave her an encouraging smile, looking as though she were going to burst with excitement. She turned the heavy vellum envelope over in her hands, her gaze taking in the elegant gold scrawl with her name across the front. The envelope was sealed close by a blood red wax seal stamped with an elaborate coat of arms. 

Grinning at Devonny's perplexed look, Elizabeth bounced excited on the settee. "Well, open it," she urged. Unable to contain herself any longer, the words rushed out as Devonny carefully broke the seal and opened the envelope. "It's a masquerade! The first ball of the season and it's going to be fantastic!"

Devonny smiled at her new friend's enthusiasm even as a knot of apprehension settled in her stomach. 

Elizabeth watched Devonny's smile waver. "Don't you see?" Elizabeth soothed. "It's perfect. You get to hide behind a mask. Prince and I will be by your side the whole time. You get to make your debut as a beautiful mysterious stranger behind a mask."

Devonny couldn't help the small smile that spread over her lips as she marveled at Elizabeth's ability to romanticize any situation. 

"Now," Elizabeth shot to her feet. "You'll need an evening gown and a mask to match. There's a man in town who makes the most incredible Venetian masks. I'll have him come by the house and design one for you." She glanced at the large cherry armoire. "I've heard you have quite an impressive wardrobe. May I?"

"Of course." Devonny gestured to the wardrobe closet and rose to join her.

Elizabeth opened the doors eliciting a gasp. "Oh my..."

After perusing the gowns nearly overflowing the armoire, Elizabeth withdrew a lavender silk ball gown "This is absolutely gorgeous—perfect for the ball—and we can have a mask made to match." 

Devonny nodded her assent as Elizabeth continued to examine the yards of silk, muslin and taffeta. Elizabeth spoke softly. "I do not wish to offend you, Devonny, but may I ask you a question?" She turned her large almond eyes to her new friend. "You do not have to answer it if it makes you uncomfortable." 

Devonny nodded and smiled a thinly, already knowing the question that was on her friends lips.

"Is there something between you and Elijah Davenport? I've heard that he's incredibly fond of you, not to mention the wardrobe and the dowry--"

"Dowry?" Devonny blinked at her, a musical laugh spilling from her lips. "Elizabeth, I have no dowry.'

Elizabeth's gaze widened. "You did not know?"

Devonny's look of confusion was unmistakable. "What do you mean?"

Elizabeth worried her lower lip looking anxious. "He did not tell you?"

"Tell me what?" 

Elizabeth idly fingered a cashmere shawl, glancing at Devonny from the corner of her eye. "Elijah has established a dowry for you, should you find a match. I am sorry I ruined the surprise for you."

'Surprise'was not to word Devonny might have used. Once again Eli was meddling in her affairs, scheming to marry her off to some well-to-do gen du couleur.. She could feel her ire rising. 

Reigning in her emotions she decided to put the matter aside and calmly speak to him about it later. Instead she answered Elizabeth's intended question. "No, there is nothing romantic between us though that seems to have been on everyone's minds. We are simply friends, nothing more, and yet I seem to be repeating that mantra again and again."

A coy smile slid over Elizabeth's delicate features. "Perhaps there is a reason for that, no? Have you considered that perhaps his regard and apparent generosity are an indication of some feeling on his part?"

Devonny did indeed take a moment to consider it. She adored Eli, despite all his overreaching. He was, indeed, generous and affectionate. He was familiar with her but she thought nothing of it. It was merely his way. 

Then she thought of the kiss. It has been the lightest brush of his lips against hers, startling her out of her sadness. It had been quick and offhand. She doubted it meant anything to Eli. But did it mean anything to her? She did not feel up to the task of assessing the issue.

Devonny shook her head once more. ""I don't believe Eli has any sort of intentions towards me at all."

"And Gabriel Davenport?" Elizabeth met her gaze. 

Devonny shrugged, feigning nonchalance she did not feel. "I truly don't know what is between Gabriel and me." Elizabeth lifted a dark brow in interest, though Devonny was quick to reassure her. "There is nothing untoward." At the moment, she added mentally. 

Elizabeth smiled. "I wasn't suggesting that there was. But from his reaction to thinking Rochard in his home, I certainly would not think him indifferent." 

"Indifferent? No, I think not." Devonny conceded. 

A knock on the door startled them both from their speculative thoughts. "Yes? Come in?"

Elijah's handsome face appeared in the doorway's opening, a wide smile spreading over his face when he saw Devonny's companion. 

"Miss Elizabeth," he crossed the room in a few long strides, taking Elizabeth's gloved hands in his own. "You look ravishing as always. It has been far too long." 

Elizabeth quirked a brow in amusement and smiled. "How wonderful to see you again, Mr. Davenport." 

"Eli," he smiled and corrected immediately. "I'm glad to see you and our Devonny have become fast friends. 

Elizabeth grinned at Devonny. "Quite so. I actually came to personally deliver her invitation to the masquerade to start the season."

Eli turned his cornflower blue gaze to Devonny. "Ah," he said softly. "Leaping into the fray are we?"

Devonny met his gaze, the corners of her lips turning up. "So it would seem." 

"Brilliant," Eli clapped his hands together. We shall have to go buy you a fitting mask for your debut." 

"I can buy my own mask, Eli. I don't need your help." 

Eli ignored her protests as usual and bowed once more to Elizabeth. "Madamoiselle."

He smirked at Devonny. "Tomorrow," he said pointedly before striding from the room. 

Devonny stared after him, her mouth slightly agape. She blinked at Elizabeth's laughter. 

"Is he always so offhand and assuming with you?" Elizabeth asked.

Devonny clenched her teeth. "Unfortunately, yes."

Elizabeth patted her hand consolingly and changed the subject. "We'll go to the ball together with Prince and I'll send a coach round just before the ball is to begin. We should like to make an entrance," she smiled.

Devonny returned the smile despite her growing sense of unease. "Of course." 

Devonny walked Elizabeth to her coachman waiting with the chaise and bid her friend goodbye before venturing towards the stables.

*** Elijah Davenport grimaced. "I can't tomorrow, Gabriel. I have plans." He leaned back in the armchair in the study, regarding his agitated sibling speculatively. 

Gabriel stood frowning at an invitation to dine with the Duke of Devonshire and the Hardings. He narrowed his gaze at Elijah. "Why the devil not? What plans?" he demanded, not liking the idea one bit of attending a dinner party without his brother. At least when Eli was in the immediate vicinity he served as a second distraction to the simpering fairer sex and their calculating mamas. He noted Eli's hesitation to offer up and excuse. "Well, out with it." 

Eli sighed. "I cannot attend because I'm taking Devonny into town tomorrow." 

Gabriel stared at him. "I don't understand." 

Eli shrugged. "Devony is making her debut with the gens du couleur. It's a masquerade—the same night as our own. I'd like to take her to design a mask." 

Gabriel seemed to be processing this. "Debut..." he glanced at Elijah. "She's to make a match?" 

"So it would seem," Elijah eyed him warily as he sank into the chair opposite him. "With her looks and wit, it shouldn't be too difficult." 

Gabriel crumpled the missive in his fist, his gaze fixed on the carpets. 

"Surely you understood that this would happen," Eli ventured. 

Gabriel lifted his gaze to clash with Elijah's. 

Eli returned the glare. "Surely you didn't believe that she would remain in our household. Why?" He scoffed, "To simply wait for scraps of your affection or regard?" 

Gabriel growled. "I don't know what I thought. I had not considered it." 

Elijah snorted. "And what of Abigail Harding?" 

"What of her?" Gabriel snapped.

"Are you planning to ask for her hand?"

Gabriel raked a rough hand through his dark locks. "Likely, yes. She's suitable enough." 

Eli shook his head. "And have you considered what it would be like to have Devonny and your wife in the same household?"

Gabriel did not respond. 

Eli sighed. "Your feelings for her are evident enough every time you look at her. Your new wife would make her life a living hell." He was becoming angry now. "You can't hurt her anymore, Gabriel. You must put a stop to it before you ruin her." 

Gabriel jerked his head up to fix Elijah with a dark glare. "I wouldn't do anything to compromise her."

"No?" 

Gabriel rubbed his palm against his cheek. He thought of the way she had quivered with need as she lay beside him and the sound of her breathy gasp as his hands examined her silken flesh. He thought of the way her glorious lips tasted of salt and honey. If given the opportunity—if she desired him—would he be able to pull himself away? He doubted his strength. 

Eli rose to stand. "Let her go, Gabriel. You'll only end up hurting her." 

Eli was the second person to say such to him. Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut against the dull ache that had begun to throb at the base of his skull as Eli carefully closed the study door behind his departure. 

***

Devonny wandered from stall to stall in the stables, pausing occasionally to absently stroke the nose of one of the mounts within as she contemplated the impending future. 




Devonny Ch. 09



She was expected to find a match. For what? For safety? Security and protection? "But what about love, hm?" She asked, halting before Orion's stall. The large Andalusian stuck his nose out to nuzzle her palm. 

She smiled dimly. She doubted she'd be making a love match, not when her heart and thoughts were otherwise occupied with the unattainable. Perhaps a distraction was exactly what she needed—a more suitable distraction. 

Squinting into the sunlight as she exited the stables, she spotted Sadie taking bed linens down from the line behind the kitchens. Sadie smiled as Devonny appeared beside her and began unpinning a sheet and drawing it down to fold. 

Devonny smiled when she saw Sadie's protest and shook her head. "I'm not used to being so idle. It doesn't agree with me. Let me help." 

"Thank you, sweetheart," Sadie winked at her. "I saw young Miss Madison leaving not too long ago. Are she and Prince going to announce their engagement soon?" 

Devonny lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug as she folded the clean white bed pane. "He's spoken with her father recently. I don't think it should be too long. Her parents seem quite fond of him."

As they should be," Sadie said cheerily. "He a fine young man, a prize for anyone's daughter." 

Devonny nodded smiling. 

When they had finished folding, Devonny bent and hefted the linen basket into her arms, neatly sidestepping Sadie's outstretched hands. "You've got enough to do," Devonny soothed. "I can change some bedclothes. Now where do these belong?"

Sadie nodded to the Eastern wing of Kedleston hall. "The young masters' apartments," she said, noticing Devonny's look of uncertainty. She patted the girl's arm. "Don't mind them, dearie, they're in the study working." 

Devonny favored her with an appreciative grin before heading towards the house. She made her way toward Elijah's room, knocking first before entering just to be sure she didn't disturb him.

Elijah's apartments were gracefully decorated in creams, gold and a deep sapphire blue not unlike the color of his gaze. There was a sitting area near the fireplace though a billiard table that dominated the center of the room, the felt of the table matching the jewel toned blue of the room. Light poured in from the large windows illuminating a large desk littered with papers and maps. The door beyond the sitting area and fireplace led to a large bathing chamber and dressing room. 

Devonny smiled to herself. It was as if the room captured Eli's very essence within; the effervescent energy and the quiet strength below.

She quickly changed his linens and replaced the bath towels and left, closing the door softly behind her. 

Unease settled in the hallow of her belly as she continued down the hall toward Gabriel's quarters. She had never seen his room, not even at Davenport House in London. There seemed something dangerous and deliciously forbidden about entering his bedroom.  

She knocked tentatively and then louder when there was no response. 

Hitching her breath and setting the basket on her hp, she grasped the door handle with slightly trembling fingers and pushed the door open. If Elijah's essence permeated his room, then Gabriel's room was the physical manifestation of the man's aura. 

Willing herself forward, she entered. Like Eli's room there was a sitting area by the fireplace, large dark brown leather armchairs and a deep burgundy settee. Upon the large mahogany desk papers and ledgers were neatly stacked against the backdrop of bookshelves filled to the brim with leather bound works. Against one wall was a display of guns and sabers. 

The large mahogany bed was overhung by a burgundy cushioned headboard and overhanging canopy stamped with rosegold fleur-di-lis. 

Catching herself lingering, Devonny hurriedly went to pull back the sheets of his massive bed and replaced the linens quickly, dumping the old linens into the basket. She bent to pick up the basket only to halt, eyeing the book cases.

It was unlikely that she'd have another opportunity to peruse his quarters. Examining his bookshelves wouldn't hurt.

She carefully trailed her fingertips over the spines, pulling a leather bound collection of William Wilberforces's essays. Flipping open the cover, she drew a breath at the scrawling script upon the front cover. 'To Charles Davenport, friend and ally, for all that you have done to further our cause. Thank you. Your Friend, William.'

Nearly breathless, she reverently ran her fingertips over the elegantly scrawled signature of the man responsible for pushing an end to the slave trade in England. 

The sound of water splashing in the adjoining bathing chamber jerked her out of her awe. She started and nearly dropped the precious book. Gasping, Devonny replaced the book with shaking hands as her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She was not alone in Gabriel Davenport's chambers and there was but one person who could possibly be the other occupant. 

She whirled and bent to snatch up the laundry basket, only to be halted mid motion by the deep clearing of a masculine throat. 

"Devonny." There was nothing questioning in the deep timber of his voice, naught but a hint of amusement. 

Shoulders hunched, swallowing nervously, Devonny turned to face him. Her mouth immediately dropped open in shock. Never in her life had she seen such a man. 

Gabriel Davenport stood dripping wet, rivulets of water streaming down the gorgeous hard lines of his body. His broad muscular chest was dusted with dark hair. The same dark hair formed a thin dark trail down his taut rippling abdominals and disappearing beneath the white hand towel he held to cover himself. 

Uttering a distressed squeak, she squeezed her eyes shut but his image was imprinted behind her eyelids. She had never seen a man before in such a state of undress though she'd glimpsed men at Madame's. But none of them looked so mind numbingly beautiful as Gabriel Davenport. 

She could not help herself. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Every inch of him was solid muscle, his broad chest tapering to taut rippling abdominals and narrow hips. There at his hips, the golden sun kissed color of his skin paled slightly down to his muscular thighs, well shaped and liberally dusted with fine dark hair. She felt an unfamiliar ache pulse low in her belly.

"Devonny." His voice was low, nearly a growl. The way she was looking at him was soon going to make the hand towel obsolete. 

At the sound of her name on his lips, her honey colored eyes flickered to his. He felt his cock stiffen at the unbridled heat in her gaze. He shifted and she blinked, the heat replaced by cool modestly as she lowered her gaze to the carpet with a brush of her thick dark lashes. Her golden brown cheeks flushed pink. 

"Sir, I--I," she faltered. 

"Gabriel," his voice rumbled, correcting her. 

"I-I knocked," she hugged the laundry basket against her stomach. "I did not mean..."

"I had fallen asleep soaking in the bath, I did not hear you," Gabriel said. "And I have no towel but this one." He stepped closer and watched her draw a sharp breath though she did not raise her eyes. A small smiled curved on his lips. "Perhaps my bath towels are in you laundry basket?'

Devonny blinked but kept her gaze lowered. "Oh, yes. Of course." She hurriedly placed the basket on the bed and withdrew a stack of fluffy white bath towels before skirting around him and heading towards the bathroom. He chuckled. "Devonny..." causing her to stop in her tracks. 

She drew a deep steadying breath as she felt him draw near. She felt the heat of him against her back though he did not touch her. The clean male scent of him washed over her. His arm brushed against her and she forced herself still as he plucked a towel from the top of the pile. She fought the suddenly overwhelming urge to turn into his arms and bury her face in his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice husky, sending a ripple of exquisite heat down her spine. 

She nearly bolted to the bathroom. The air was still heavy with steam and the faint hint of sandalwood. She hung the towels, taking more time than necessary as she willed the trembling from her limbs and took a deep calming breath. She emerged to see Gabriel standing expectantly, heavily muscled arms crossed over his glorious chest. At least he'd wrapped the towel around his hips. 

She met his gaze uncertainly. "I'm sorry for intruding on your privacy, Gabriel. I'll go." 

He did not speak, nor did he make any move to stop her. 

She started for the door only to have him clear his throat shift his weight. "Devonny," his voice was low when he moved into her path. He watched her liquid eyes grow as wide as saucers and he reminded himself to tread lightly, not to scare her.

His voice was soft and low. "What were you thinking just now?" he asked her. "When you were looking at me? You had the most peculiar expression on your face." 

Devonny stared at him. He couldn't be serious. What did he expect her to say? And to what end? She swallowed thickly, her heart seeming to beat an erratic staccato against her ribcage. But somehow she managed to square her shoulders and look him full in the face. It was a wonder that she managed to keep her voice steady. "I was thinking that I have never seen a man more beautifully formed." A corner of her mouth tugged upwards in a half smile. "I was thinking that you are quite wonderful to look at." 

The look of shock on his face was worth the effort. "Sir." She dropped a small curtsey and quickly stepped around him, making her way to the door. 

"Devonny," He reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. The quizzical expression on her face almost made him rethink his next move. But he was unable to stop himself. 

Gabriel tugged her slightly toward him and leaned in. She came easily with no hint of hesitation, her wide gaze drifting immediately to his lips before flickering back to his intent darkening gaze. Lifting his hand to cup the smooth silk of her cheek he deliberately laid his lips against hers. He felt her sigh and her soft whimper fired his loins. 

Devonny's arms trembled as she tightened her grip on the laundry basket. Heat exploded in her belly at the first brush of his lips. Her limbs trembles as her white knuckled grip on the basket was all that kept her from dropping it at her feet and reaching for him. Her fingers tingled and she wondered at the way his skin would feel beneath her finger tips and wondered whether the dark dusting of dark hairs gracing the hard planes of his chest were as silken as they looked. 

He growled against her mouth as his tongue skillfully parted the seam of her lips and delved into the hot sweet recesses of her mouth. Desire shook him as he felt her lips moving against his own. Christ, she tasted good—of honey and salt—and her heady scent of jasmine and rosewater intoxicated his senses. 

Devonny felt as though her heart were going to crack open her ribcage and burst through her chest as he buried his hands in her hair, holding her still as his tongue continued to exquisitely explore and plunge beyond her lips. 

With a low groan that sounded almost as though he were in pain, Gabriel dragged his lips from hers. His face hovered mere inches from her own and he perused her dark arched brows above the closed thickly fringed eyelids. His breath coming in shallow gasps feathered enticingly against her lips, causing her to lean into him, only to have him pull back and firmly set her back from him. "You should go," he said in a graven tone though he could not bring himself to release her quite yet. 

He watched her purse her lips slightly and blow out at stream of air before her widened amber gaze lifted to meet his own. Her brow tensed a bit as she searched his face, confusion evident in her countenance. 

"Please," his voice was rough. "I cannot—"

The tension in broad muscular shoulders was evident as he abruptly released her. She watched in avid fascination as he retreated and shrugged into a dressing gown, taut muscles rippling across his abdomen as he belted the garment. 

He swore, "And Christ, stop looking at me like that!" 

Devonny blinked at him, lifting her chin imperiously. Ire flashed the honey depths of her eyes. He marveled at the way she reigned in her emotions when he was so obviously unable to do so. Her voice was smooth and unaffected when she spoke. "I beg your pardon, sir, for interrupting." Devonny exited the room, using every ounce of self control she possessed to close the door quietly, not to slam it and rattle it on its hinges. 

She turned, stopping short as she came face to face with Eli, surprise evident on his handsome face. "Devonny, what—" he glanced from her flushed face to the door and then back to her face. "Is Gabriel in there?" he demanded, straightening as his flaxen brows drew together and his face hardened. 

Devonny heaved a sigh. "I was changing the linens, Eli. Just as I changed yours. I am your employee, you realize. It is part of my job." 

Eli's finely sculpted lips twisted. Of course he realized that she was in their employ, but something about the fact irked him. Like Mrs. Palmer, she had never been a mere servant to him. Mrs. Palmer was family and Devonny...he adored her. He felt connected and drawn to her from the moment he saw her standing demurely in their foyer at Davenport House, the way he'd never felt drawn to another woman in all his life. She was stunningly beautiful. He could well understand Gabriel's torment over her, even Rochard's desperation to have her. But he, himself—Elijah—could not bring himself to think of her in that way. She was in his care and under his protection. He could not bring himself to upset her life. As long as she was in his service, he would never touch her. And as long as Gabriel desired her, she would never be his. 

"Excuse me, Eli," she said almost woodenly. "But I'm going to take these to be laundered and see if there is anything Ursula or Moira might require." Smiling tightly, Eli stepped graciously aside. "Madam." 

She hadn't made it far when he called to her. "Devonny, wait." 

She halted and turned to him hesitantly, her face expectant. 

Eli smiled placatingly. "Please," he came toward her. "I did not mean to upset you. Allow me to make it up to you." 

Devonny remained silent but lifted one ebony brow awaiting his offer. 

Eli stepped close. "Your coming out is in a matter of days." He watched anxiety flicker over her delicately lush features. "Have you been practicing your steps?" 

Devonny shifted the basket on her hip. "I have and Elizabeth has been helping me, but I am still..." she searched for a word. "Unsure." She smiled ruefully. "I'm fairly certain that I shall stumble or forget the steps or perhaps trample my partner's feet if anyone should even choose to dance with me in the first place."

Eli moved closer and gazed down into her upturned face. He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Devonny, love, every man in the room is going to want to dance with you." He grinned. "And I shall help you with the steps following dinner tonight. Having a partner might help your nerves." 

A small smile graced her features. "It would help immensely." She pulled away. "After dinner then?" She was walking backwards down the hall. 

"In the parlor," he nodded. A wisp of a radiant smile flitted across her lips before she turned and continued down the hall. 

Back to the matter at hand, Eli knocked on Gabriel's door, entering when Gabriel answered. Eli gaped at his brother from the doorway. "We you wearing that when she was in here?" he demanded, gesturing to the dressing robe open to his waist. 

Gabriel snorted. "No I was not. I was wearing a hand towel." He watched Eli's face darken with fury.

Gabriel shrugged. "I was in the bath. She didn't know I was in here and I didn't know she had come in."

Eli growled low in his throat. "And?"

"And nothing," Gabriel said simply. "She blushed quite becomingly and she left." No need to let Eli know that he had been kissing her and had been mere moments from attempting to divest her of her clothing had he not gotten himself under control. His brother continued to glare at him. "Was there something you wanted?" He went to his wardrobe.

Eli stepped into the room and closed the door behind him with a bit more force than necessary. "I want to establish a dowry for Devonny." 

Gabriel froze midway through buttoning up his shirt. "You want to do what?"

Eli grimaced at his brothers tone and sank into one of the arm chairs. He met Gabriel's gaze steadily. "She can't stay here, Gabriel. Surely you can see that." 

Gabriel finished buttoning his shirt and jerked on a vest. "And what would you suggest? She has nowhere else to go."

"For now," Eli prompted. "She's lovely, and charming, and educated enough. But she's damn near penniless and it will only hurt her prospects. "

"And you would help her along, would you? You would marry her off to some stranger entranced by her looks and after her money?" 

"As if that were any different than how our set maneuvers," Eli retorted sharply then exhaled, endeavoring to calm himself. His voice softened. "But I would see her happy with a husband who loves her and finally a family of her own. Don't you wish that for her?"

"Of course," Gabriel tied his cravat. "I want what's best for her." 

"Except for when that interferes with what you want," Eli said pointedly. 

Gabriel sent him a warning glare. 

Eli got to his feet. "I had every intention of doing it whether you liked it or not," he said simply. "I merely wished to apprise you of my intentions." 

"And so you have." Gabriel frowned and shrugged. "So be it. It's your money. Do with it what you will." 

Eli considered him a long moment before slipping out of the room.

Gabriel raked a rough hand through his dark hair. Elijah was right of course, as he usually was when it came to Devonny. Of course she deserved happiness, love, marriage, and children . It was that he, himself, could not give her those things that tore at him. Had she been a white servant who affected him as she did he would have married her immediately, damn the gossips. But she wasn't white. A man of lesser status could have married her. She could have married into a bourgeois a trade family with little hubbub. But those of color had not yet crossed the threshold into the aristocracy, nor could he imagine such a time. But by God, he wanted her so badly he ached. *** Devonny helped in the kitchens and even got in a bit of reading before wondering into the parlor—book in hand—and settling into the settee to wait for Eli. It seemed he had already cleared a space for them. 

"You know, they say that all that reading can addle a young woman's brains," Eli drawled, leaning in the doorway. 

Devonny closed the book with a smile. "That, sir, is simply something men say to keep women from becoming their intellectual equals." 

"Ah," Elijah's brows lifted. "So you're on to us?"

She merely smiled a small secretive smile and gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders. 

Elijah straightened and closed the immense carved oak parlor door before coming to stand before her. 

"The evening shall be typical of most dances to start off the season," he said, immediately getting to the matter at hand and looking down into her face. "The night will begin with the Grand March and the first waltz. You will likely dance until around midnight—" 

"Midnight?!" Devonny's eyes were wide as he pulled her to her feet.

Eli smiled at her reaction. "You will then break for food and drink before dancing until dawn." 

"Dawn?" Devonny murmured absently, mildly distressed by the idea. 

Eli grinned at her and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her towards him as he took her hand in his own. His face turned serious though his cerulean eyes were lit with humor. "The waltz, shall we?" 




Devonny Ch. 09



Eli guided her through the steps with masculine grace. The waltz was simply enough. He led her and gently corrected her through the more complicated gavotte and tried to lead her along with imaginary partners through the dizzying quadrilles. Eli was gentle and patient but firm. He didn't hesitate to correct a misstep. 

Devonny collapsed into the settee nearly three hours later. "If I don't have it now, Eli, I'm having trouble mustering up the enthusiasm to care." She leaned her head back, allowing her eyes to drift closed with a sigh. 

Eli eased down beside her, leaned back and considered her silently, draping an arm over the back of the settee. She had taken off her cap and unbound her hair, dark curls spilling over her shoulders and framing her lovely face. His gaze traced her profile from her brow to the thick ebony fringe of lashes against her cheeks. Her nose was perfectly straight above full pink lips and a delicate chin. 

He reached out without thinking and grasped a ringlet of curls between his fingers, marveling at its softness and the way it curled around his fingertip. 

His gaze roved unbidden to her beasts as she breathed deeply. She had unbuttoned the high neck of her gown during their lesson and he could glimpse the smooth swell of her breasts above the lace of her shift. 

Heat inflamed his loins, his breaches suddenly feeling far too tight. He stifled discomfited groan into a cough and swallowed hard, jerking his gaze back to her face when she turned her sweet smile on him. 

"Thank you, Eli," she murmured. "You're always too good to me."

Eli returned the smile and released the lock of her hair from his grasp. "Anything for you, love." 

Devonny grinned and stood. "Shall we move the furniture back?" 

Eli waved his hand dismissively. "I've got it. You go ahead." 

She beamed at him. "Goodnight, Eli." 

Eli watched her go, admiring the swish of her skirts. He rubbed a hand of the days growth of stubble at his jaw, smiling vaguely. Whether she performed the steps perfectly or not, it was of little consequence. She was like a beam of sunlight breaking through the clouds on an overcast day. Any man would see it, damn the dance steps.



Devonny Ch. 10



Devonny inhaled sharply, bracing herself as she grasped the bedpost. 

"Now hold that breath," Moira urged as she jerked the corset stays tight. 

Devonny winced. "Am I supposed to be able to breathe?" she wheezed. 

"No," Moira answered.

When she had finished, Devonny groaned. She leaned one way and then the other, testing the stiffness of the garment. 

Moira helped Devonny dress carefully in layers of undergarments. Devonny fidgeted in the numerous heavy petticoats, layers of underclothes, metal hoops, and the tight corset worn under the pointed whale bone bodice. She shot Moira a beleaguered expression. "Is all this really quite necessary? I feel about as agile as a warship being tugged into harbor." 

Moira merely smiled and shook her head fondly. "It will be worth it, dearie. Not to worry."

Devonny stared at herself critically in the full length mirror. Her hair had been artfully coiffed, allowing dark curls to frame her face and neck, held in place by pearl tipped pins. The corset had nipped her waist into seemingly unnatural smallness. 

By the time Moira had slipped the lavender silk gown over her head and buttoned up the back of the gown, Devonny's heart was racing, the corset feeling unbearably constricting. 

Moira gently turned the girl to face her, gently taking her shoulders in her hands. "Are you alright, child?" The girl looked pale and fretful. 

"I don't know if I can do this." She pressed a hand to her cinched waist. 

"Oh sweetheart," Moira pressed her hands to Devonny's cool cheeks. "Of course you can. You look absolutely lovely and Prince and Miss Elizabeth will be by your side. You have nothing to worry about." She gave Devonny's cheek a reassuring pat. "You will be adored, darling." 

Devonny gave her a weak smile in return. The soft knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. "Yes?"

Eli peeked his head around the door, his face lighting when he saw her. He knew she would be dazzling but he was slightly unprepared for the striking vision standing before him. Moira stepped aside to allow him a better view. 

The lavender silk gown was molded to her upper body, flaring out over the large hoop skirt. Her shoulders and decollage were bare. Her deep golden brown shoulders were lovely. Her breasts were sumptuously swelling against the neckline. Her face was bare and open with the exception of a few sweetly alluring curls framing her brow and the nape of her neck. Pearl baubles hung from her ear lobes and a multi-strand pearl choker graced her delicate throat. 

She smiled at him self-consciously as he stepped into the room. Her fingers fluttered nervously to her the pearls at her neck, as she mistook his silence for censure. "It's too much isn't it? I knew it was too much." She reached to undo the clasp but Eli was there, gently taking her wrists in his hands and pulling them away. 

"No," he soothed, his eyes lit with admiration. "No, you look exquisite. Beautiful." He winked at Moira. "But I think you're missing something." He watched Devonny's lovely brow furrow quizzically. 

"Something else?"

He grinned, taking the small box from beneath his elbow that she had not noticed. Her honey colored gaze flew to meet his. "Oh, Eli. I can't..." 

Smiling, Eli tugged at the robin's egg blue ribbon securing the box and opened the lid. Upon the plush white satin interior was a mask. It was beautifully made and painted in silver, gold and lavender with a small amethyst gemstone between the brows. 

"Oh goodness, Eli," she breathed. "It's beautiful." 

"Did you think I had forgotten?" Eli teased and handed the box to Moira as he lifted out the mask. "May I?"

Devonny nodded. 

Eli moved behind her and set the mask upon her. The silk lavender ribbons were trimmed with silver and hung alluringly down her back nearly to her waist. He allowed the back of his fingertips to trail lightly down the row of tiny fabric-covered buttons tracing her spine. She turned to him smiling. .

The mask covered only the top half of her face, revealing only the golden hue of her cheeks, her lush beautiful mouth, and the fine delicate line of her jaw. Her hypnotic amber gaze twinkled. 

"A goddess," he praised. 

Moira was drawing back the curtains. "Prince is out back, dearie. I think it's time for you to be on your way." 

Devonny drew in a shaky breath, her heart thumping. But Eli was there, taking her shoulders in his hands. He met her gaze steadily. "You will be wonderful, understand?"

She nodded mutely. 

He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Understand?" he prompted. 

"Yes, Eli," she murmured softly. 

When he would have withdrawn, Devonny caught his hand and brought his knuckles to her lips, pressing a kiss there. Her lovely gaze was wet with tears. "Thank you, Eli. For everything." 

Eli cupped her face, brushing his thumb over her lips. He smiled faintly, "Go." 

Moira draped a gossamer shawl around her shoulders and handed her the matching reticule and fan. She kissed Devonny on both cheeks. "Go now, love." 

The walk down the hall seemed endless and the walk down the rear stairs an eternity. 

At the bottom she stopped short. Gabriel Davenport was standing in the kitchen. He'd stopped mid-stride in his pacing when he saw her. 

"Devonny," he breathed, all other words—even those he had so carefully planned—leaving his mind. 

His heart constricted at the sight of her. The mask she wore both concealed and enhanced her beauty, accentuating the extraordinary color of her eyes and the incredible lushness of her mouth. 

He'd never seen her shoulders or her breasts The sight of them now was nearly his undoing. Her delicate brown shoulders were smooth and flawless. He wanted to press his lips against her lovely collar bone. Her breasts were pressed against the neckline of her lavender gown, full round and beautiful. 

He cleared his throat and looked at her soberly. "Eli has wonderful taste." 

She stared at him from behind the mask but said nothing. 

He came to stand in front of her, his legs brushing against her skirts. "You look beautiful, Devonny." 

Her expression was unreadable behind the mask. "Thank you," she said softly. 

"I have something for you," he said gesturing to a small cherry wood box upon the table. 

Her eyes met his questioningly. 

"Please—" he stepped aside.

Devonny glanced at him uncertainly before unlatching the brass lock and lifting the lid. Gasping she took an involuntary step back but Gabriel's hand spanning the small of her back halted her. "Devonny, please." 

"Gabriel, I can't—"

"Take it." His stern tone left no room for argument on her part. He softened his tone. "Please." 

Nestled in the deep blue velvet of the box was a small pistol with a mother of pearl inlayed handle. 

Gabriel looked at her intently when she made no move to pick up the weapon. "Devonny, you're leaving our property. Prince has assured me that you will be well looked after but Rochard..." he paused. "Rochard is cunning." He frowned. "Look, I won't know a moment of peace while you're gone unless I know you have some means of protecting yourself. Please." 

Devonny had never heard that note in his voice before. He was near pleading with her. 

She gingerly picked up the gun. It was surprisingly weighty for its small size. 

"It's loaded," he said quietly. He held up a small velvet bag. "There's extra ammunition in here." 

Devonny took it without word and dropped it into her reticule along with the pistol. 

Gabriel shifted, looking ill at ease. "I know it's not anything beautiful like the things that Gabriel has given you but—"

She turned to him. "Thank you, Gabriel. You wish me to be safe. That means very much to me." 

Gabriel nodded. 

"Prince is probably waiting for me," she said quietly. 

"Of course," Gabriel smiled tightly as she brushed by him. 

She paused in the doorway, feeling his eyes on her. "Thank you, Gabriel, truly," she said a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "I don't want to think...." Her voice trailed off. "I don't want you to think that I don't appreciate..." 

"Goodbye, Devonny."

She smiled ruefully. "Goodbye, Gabriel."

She stepped out the door. He didn't know how long he stood there. She would return in the morning but she was gone. Tonight was just the beginning of her new life that would take her away from him. 

He shook himself from his thoughts. He had his own life to attend to and a future to prepare for.

***

Devonny removed her mask as the carriage rolled on, feeling slightly suffocated. She and Prince had taken his phaeton carriage to the Madison residence where they climbed into the Madison's Brougham carriage for the remainder of their journey. Elizabeth's parents had departed earlier and had likely already arrived at their destination. 

Elizabeth was stunning in a buttery yellow gown and golden mask. She chatted excitedly about this waltz, that eligible bachelor, and whose mother was near mad with the stress of finding a match for their precious daughter. Prince watched her, unable to contain a doting smile. 

Elizabeth sat next to Devonny in the elegant interior of the carriage. Prince, across from them looked unbelievably dashing and elegant. He carried an ivory handled walking stick across his knees and on the seat beside him was a satin top hat. 

Devonny tried vainly to listen to Elizabeth but her thoughts were getting in the way. What on earth was she doing? She was going to make overtures into the upper crust of the gen du couleur, lie through her teeth and pretend as though she belonged. 

She felt oddly bare in the in the revealing gown with the neckline that Madam Baskett had lowered an inch despite all protests. 

She toyed fitfully with the buttons on her elbow length gloves. Prince caught her gaze and gave her an encouraging smile. 

The driver turned the carriage and it passed between two tall stone pillars and joined a line of carriages progressing slowly down the drive lit with lanterns and lined with lawson cyprus trees. 

When the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the manor house, the footman opened the door. Prince got out first and turned to hand Elizabeth down from the carriage. He then turned back to Devonny and offered his hand, watching her expectantly. Ducking her head, she slipped her fingers into Prince's palm. He gave her fingers a warm squeeze. 

Careful not to trip over the hem of her gown, yet not reveal a hint of ankle, Devonny stepped out of the carriage onto the deep blue carpet runner leading beyond the wide flung doors of the large manor house. 

Devonny suppressed a gasp of awe as she gazed up. The home was not so large as Kedleston by any means but it was no less breathtaking—a bit over the top—but glorious to look at. Classical pediments jutted from the mansard roofs and spires and gables jostled for attention. The whole was mounted by a copula. 

If the outside of the home was a study in elegance, the interior was not anti-climactic in the least. Devonny followed Prince and Elizabeth through the porta-cochere and into the two-storey gallery of the central hall which had been furnished as a grand salon.

Devonny followed Prince and Elizabeth who were arm and arm to greet their hosts who stood just inside greeting the procession of their guests into the house. 

Their hosts were much younger than she had expected for a highly successful merchant and his wife. Mr. West was light skinned with an thin immaculate mustache and dark glittering eyes that held a definite hint of mischief. His young wife with her rounded pregnant belly was lovely. Their smiles were genuine and radiant, soothing a fraction of her anxiety. 

Prince drew her forward with a smile. "Kenneth, this is my sister Devonny. " 

Devonny dipped perfect curtsey and smiled graciously. 

"Miss Devonny," Mr. West greeted her warmly. "We've heard so much about you from Prince. And this is my wife, Pauline." 

Pauline grasped her hands, beaming. "For shame," she chided. "Hiding such a face in a convent all those years. We've been desperately in need of some new blood around here and you are sure to be just the thing to stir up a bit of excitement."

"Pauline..." her husband cautioned but with naught but admiration in his gaze. 

Pauline smiled. "Welcome to our home, darling." 

Devonny returned the woman's smile, ducking her head demurely in thanks. 

With an excited giggle, Elizabeth threaded her arm through Devonny's and led her into the house. 

***

Kedleston Hall...

Gabriel and Elijah stood side by side welcoming their guests to Kedleston. It was always a tedious affair, lengthened by the endeavors of many a young woman to make a lasting impression on one or both of the Davenport men. 

The evening progressed as evenings had in the past. Gabriel did his duty as a host. He chatted, charmed and plucked wallflowers from their seats for a dance. But he found it difficult to muster the enthusiasm to perform those duties that he once performed with such finesse. 

Try as he might, he was unable to distract himself from thoughts of Devonny. He was certain that she was finding no shortage of partners to fill her dance card. Perhaps some young swain would even attempt to break protocol and dance with her more than once. Would some dashing young man catch her eye? Was she lost to him already?

'She was never yours,' he reminded himself as he absently moved through the dance steps, paying little mind to the young woman gazing up at him with open awe and adoration. 

When the music ended, he led his dance partner back to her seat before briskly excusing himself and stalking from the ballroom. 

Gabriel closed himself in his study amid the shocked looks of is guests. Once inside he turned abruptly, intending to return but he halted, bracing his hands upon the sturdy oak door. He needed a moment. 

It was near unbearable; to be surrounded by women fair clamoring for his attention when the one woman he wanted more than his next breath could never be his and was likely at this very moment in the presence of her future husband. 

He stalked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a snifter of scotch, downing it in one gulp. 

Steeling himself and carefully schooling his features, he yanked the door open to return to the parts only to come face to face with Abigail Harding. 

"Gabriel," the lovely young blonde woman smiled coyly, and laying her hand against his chest she lightly pushed him back into the study. 

"Abigail—" Gabriel blurted shocked as she slipped inside and closed the door behind her. 

"Shhh..." she laid her fingertips upon his lips. "I simply came to cheer you up. You looked so unhappy dancing with plain boring Miss Morrison."

Gabriel resisted the urge to glare at her and toss her out. He kept his expression bland. "You shouldn't be here Abigail. It isn't proper." 

Abigail slinked forward with a swish of skirts. "I'm not concerned with proper at the moment." She slid her arms around his shoulders. "I just want to be close to you." Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips against his. 

Astonishment kept his lips pliant beneath hers. She smiled in satisfaction when she pulled back and saw the look of shock on his face. She traced her fingertips over his chest. "I'll see you back in there." She glanced at him over her shoulder as she made to leave. "I've kept room on my dance card for you."

She was gone with a soft click of the door.

Groaning, Gabriel, squeezed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off the impending headache. 

And then there was Abigail; Abigail who before Devonny, had been under the distinct impression that one day in the not too distant future she would be his wife. 

But Gabriel could hardly imagine making any woman in this set his wife. Not when he could barely summon a smile in their presence. Not that he smiled much in Devonny's presence. With her spent the majority of his energy reigning in his emotions. It wasn't conducive to smiling. 

Growling, he raked a rough hand through his dark hair only to carefully smooth the dark strands back into place. He jerked his jacket lapels straight, drained another tumbler of the amber liquid and left to rejoin his guests. 

Elijah wrenched his attention from the raven-haired beauty on his arm to observe Gabriel returning to the ballroom. He watched his brother stop short of the entryway, square his shoulders, inhale deeply and then smiling he entered and struck up a conversation with the Duke of Devonshire. 

Gabriel smiled, captivated and laughed. To anyone but his brother, he looked the picture of gallant charm. But to Elijah, his brother looked a bit absent behind the eyes. He had little doubt what had Gabriel so distracted. 

***

Devonny quietly slipped outside through the french doors. She needed just a moment to herself. 

She'd not had the chance to sit and catch her breath since they'd arrived nor pause for a moment. Everyone had been perfectly friendly and welcoming. Of course, women whispered behind white gloves and fine-looking fans, shooting her appraising looks and tittering in speculation. 

Her myriad of dance partners ranged from the shy and reserved to the boldly flirtatious. Her cheeks felt stiff and twitched from holding a smile. 

The night had grown cool and the faint scent of tobacco smoke hovered in the air. She tugged her thin shawl tighter around her shoulders for its minimal warmth. 

"Escaping?" 

Devonny started at the deep drawling baritone sounding from the darkness. Startled, her hands fumbled with her reticule. 

"Easy, Miss Adams," he soothed. A tall cinnamon skinned man stepped from the shadows. 

Devonny warily studied the man who was studying her. He was perhaps a few years older than herself and stood a few inches taller. 

He plucked the cheroot from between his lips and flicked it away. Waving away the wisps of smoke hanging in the night air, he grinned at her disarmingly. 

He was perhaps a few years older than her and stood a few inches taller. His dark hair was parted on one side and slicked back from his face. He was undeniably handsome with a playful glint in his dark eyes. A black mask scrawled with gold as pushed up on top of his head. 

"Theodore Edmondson," he extended his hand. "But you may call me Teddy. Most everyone does."

Devonny tentatively slipped her hand into his and pushed up her mask. "Devonny Adams," she said smoothly. 

He grinned. "Ah, sister to his highness, freed from the nunnery." 

Devonny returned his smile at his play on words. "So you know my brother?"

Teddy nodded and leaned against the stone rail of the veranda, crossing his legs at the ankle. "Of course. Everyone does. He captured the heart of one of our most sought after young ladies and has made quite a name for himself with his new stables not too far from here. I bought a fine Arabian from him just a few weeks ago." 

He tilted his head, seeming to examine her face in the light from the windows. "And you," he mused. "You must be causing quite a stir. I can see why you wished to make a run for it."

Devonny lifted a brow, her lips twisting in amusement. "And you? What's your excuse?"

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "My father wishes me to marry and marry soon. Every girl in there is aware of it, and what's worse is that their mothers are aware of it." He grimaced and looked at her warily. "I suppose you're here for the same purpose. To make a match?"

Devonny sighed. "So I'm told but..." her voice trailed off as she realized she was talking to a complete stranger. 

He raised his brows with interest. "But?" 

Devonny lifted her shoulders and smiled tentatively. "It's all very grand and beautiful. But what of love?"

Teddy let out a bark of laughter. "Love! Ha!" He couldn't contain the smile that spread over his face. "Oh, you are an innocent." She frowned and he quickly rushed on. "I say that with the utmost admiration. It's quite refreshing." He chuckled. "You see, a love match like your brother and Miss Elizabeth is rare. Most matches are made between parents looking to enhance their wealth and prestige with little regard to what their child might wish." Bitterness tinged his words and she felt truly sorry for him at the flicker of misery on his face. 




Devonny Ch. 10



"That sounds....difficult to bear." She said softly. 

He smiled tightly. "Indeed." 

She moved toward the doors. "I think perhaps I should return before I am missed." 

Teddy straightened. "Of course," he said. "I'll wait a length to return. Wouldn't want to soil your reputation upon your debut." 

"Thank you." Devonny dropped a small curtsey. 

"Miss Adams." He gave a slight bow with a twitch of his lips and watched her slip back inside. 

***

The first pink rays of dawn were peeking over the horizon when Devonny slipped back into Davenport house through the kitchens. She was weary beyond belief. Even after a hard days work she was never so tired. Her head still spun and echoed with the sound of laughter, tinkling china, and strains of music. She made it up to her room and dropped shawl, mask and reticule into an armchair. 

Then there was the arduous task of undressing. Lifting her skirts, she released the ties of the ungainly hoops and let the garment fall to her feet. She sighed in relief, happy to be rid of the excess weight. She then removed the numerous pins holding her hair in place, massaging her scalp with her fingertips once her hair was free to fall wildly around her face. 

Her stomach growled audibly and she winced. She'd been far too nervous to eat throughout the night, merely moving her food around on her plate and ignoring hors d'oeuvres. Shaking her head, she made her way back down to the kitchens and set about making herself a cup of tea to stave off the hunger until breakfast which would likely be in a matter of hours. 

She seated herself at the kitchen table and laid her head upon her crossed arms, waiting for the water to heat. She was certain she would have enjoyed her evening if she had not been so nervous, she reflected. It seemed at least, that she had made a friend in Teddy Edmondson. When he'd returned to the house, he'd promptly asked her for a dance. He'd made faces at her and made her laugh certain that she was too tightly-wound for her own sanity. 

She'd danced with many men throughout the night. But there was no spark like the spark she had first felt when her eyes had met Gabriel's for the first time. It had been like a fist tightening around her heart and stealing her breath. 

Love takes time to grow, she told herself as she rose and poured herself a cup of tea. She made a point of convincing herself that she could easily grow to love another man as easily as she had fallen for Gabriel Davenport. 

That was when the object of her musings entered the kitchen, stopping short when he saw her. "You're back." 

She smiled absently at him as she squeezed a wedge of lemon over her tea. "Yes. Only just." 

Gabriel was still in his attire from the evening though his jacket and vest hung open and his cravat had been discarded. His shirt was unbuttoned to his chest and his dark hair was in haphazard disarray. He held a glass of port in one hand. 

"Would you like a cup of tea?" She offered, glancing up at him. "In exchange for your liquor. Undoubtedly, the trade would ease your waking hours."

Gabriel stared at her. She was still wearing the lavender silk gown, though she'd removed the bonnet and the gown skimmed over her curves distractingly. Her dark hair was unbound as he rarely saw it and allowed to fall around her bare shoulders. She was looking at him expectantly. 

"Yes," he answered tightly. "I'd like some."

She smiled faintly and poured a bit of milk into the china cup before pouring in the tea for him. She handed it to him and he took a seat at the table pushing aside the glass of port. Stirring a dollop of honey into her own tea, she went to join him. She sat carefully, watchfully avoiding stepping on her skirts. 

"How was your evening, Gabriel?" she asked politely, taking a sip of her tea. 

Gabriel eyed her guardedly. Was she aware of how miserable his night had been? Was she merely goading him? Surely she must know that he would be thinking of her incessantly. "It went well enough," he said stiffly. "And yours?" 

He watched uncertainty flit over her soft features at his cool tone. "It was wonderful, truly." She said smiling, attempting to inject some lightness into the conversation. "Everyone was very welcoming." 

He was unable to stop his next question. His voice was cold. "And did you snare yourself some worthy young swain?" 

Devonny's brow knitted together at his harsh tone. "Perhaps," she ventured, hesitantly.

He snorted and took a sip of his tea. "Perhaps," he ground out.

Devonny set her tea cup in its saucer with a clatter, her ire rising. "Have I said something to offend you?"

He gritted his teeth, holding back words, unable to keep the glower from his countenance. 

Her chair scraped backwards as she stood abruptly. "I think I should leave you to your tea." 

He stood. 

"Goodnight, Gabriel." 

When she would have left him, his hand shot out and closed around her wrist. When she turned to him, his gaze was fervent, his brow furrowed. A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. 

"Gabriel—" she began, her voice holding a warning.

He did not release her. "What is it you want from me?" His question came out harsh and angry and they stood staring at one another.

"From you?" she echoed. 

"Yes!" he hissed. 

Devonny's eyes widened at his question. What was he asking her? Something lit inside her and for once she was not going to hold back. She lifted her chin imperiously and leveled her gaze at him. "Merely what you cannot give," she said. "And that which you likely could not bring yourself to offer."

Gabriel searched her lovely upturned face for some hint of guile but there was none. His voice was low. "I have wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you."

She glared at him. "That much has been made incredibly obvious, thank you. Is that all?" she demanded. She tugged at her wrist. "Now, let me go."

He released her wrist only to capture her shoulders in his hands and bring her flush against his body. She did not struggle but scowled at him. His chest heaved against her breasts. 

"What would you have me do?" he spat, giving her a small shake. "Would you have me deny my father's legacy? Bring down all that my grandfather and his father have built?!"

Her honeyed gaze was alight with anger. "No. I would not." A bitter smile curved upon her lips. "I would not be the cause of your ruination, nor will I be your little whore if that's what you were hoping. I would think on it no longer if I were you," she advised gravely. "There's nothing for it." 

She wrenched out of his grasp. "Goodnight, Gabriel." She was gone with a swish of her skirts and he was left staring after her. 

Lifting her skirts, she mounted the stairs at the most dignified pace she could manage, heart hammering with the expectation that he might come after her. When she reached the top, she broke into a run, racing down the length of the corridor and ducking into her room. She turned the wrought iron key and locked the door. 

Breathing hard she collapsed against the door, gasping for air in that blasted corset and holding back a cry of despair. A sob bubbled up and burst free from her throat. She clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound slid down the length of the door to huddle at its base as strangled sobs wracked her body. 

Despite her exhaustion, there would be no blessed sleep for her this night. 



Devonny Ch. 11



**Thank you to all my readers for your patience! I just finished up finals and have a couple weeks off before summer session for my MA starts. Wedding planning is also progressing though I feel the stress my make my head explode. Here's the next chapter for Devonny.It's a bit shorter than anticipated but it was the best point to split the chapters. I'm already at work on the next! Also sorry, I disabled anonymous email feedback. I had an asshat emailing me telling me that I suck and should stop writing because I don't care about my fans which is totally false. I love to write but unfortunately it has to come after school, work and my fiancé (who is all kinds of encouraging). 

LOVE you all!" 

XXkisskiss

Dusky** 

*

Devonny smiled and nodded courteously in the Madison gardens, accepting congratulations and best wishes on behalf of her brother. 

Phillip Madison had announced the betrothal of his daughter Elizabeth Lillian Madison to Prince Michael Adams. It was going to be the wedding of the season most likely and the excitement was near palpable. 

The Madison garden was beautiful in high summer and vibrant with blooms and greenery. The air was sweet and fragrant. It was the perfect setting for such an announcement. The Madison's guests milled about dressed in their summer finery; the men discarding their cravats for collars and bows, the women in expensive white linen mull. 

Devonny tilted her parasol against the sun's rays. Her own linen mull gown was embellished by white cotton embroidery and handmade linen bobbin laces. A wide buttery yellow sash was the only color of her dress and featured a large bow, the ends trailing down the back of the gown. 

"And then there was one." Teddy Edmondson came to stand beside her, his lips quirking into a bemused smile. 

Devonny glanced at him, amused but nonplussed. "One what?" 

Teddy grinned. "One captivating Adams sibling ripe for the plucking." 

Devonny smirked at his observation and Teddy handed her a crystal punch glass. 

"So what do you think?" Teddy queried, gazing about. 

"Of?" Devonny ventured, brows lifting in question. 

"Of all this?" Teddy gestured to the garden around them and all its finely dressed occupants. "Compared to the nunnery, I mean." 

Devonny couldn't help the twist of her lips at the mention of "the nunnery." 

"It is almost..." she searched for a word. "Surreal." She smiled wanly. "I can hardly believe any of it is truly real. It's like a dream" 

Teddy chuckled at that. "Well don't believe all of it," he admonished. "More like a nightmare," he grumbled under his breath. 

Devonny gazed at him soberly. "Why always so forlorn, Mister Edmondson?" she asked. "Surely you know you lead a charmed and incredibly privileged life?" 

Teddy grimaced. "Yes, surrounded by all the trappings of a gilded cage."

Devonny lifted an ebony brow. "Many would be eternally grateful for such trappings," she said chided. 

Grimacing once more, Teddy withdrew a flask from his finely cut jacket and deftly poured the contents into his punch cup. Afterwards, he swished the liquid around the cup and took a tentative. He took a tentative sip and winced at the taste before shrugging and slipping the flask back into his pocket. 

"You're beginning to sound like my father, Teddy mused "Speaking of which...." He nodded to an older spectacled gentleman who was eyeing him with a mild frown upon his dignified countenance. 

Teddy gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. "Smile, Devonny."

Devonny smiled tightly and inclined her head in distant greeting. 

Teddy chuckled, giving her another light nudge. "Now you've done it." 

"Done what?" 

"Now he'll be badgering me incessantly about you and wanting to know when I might make things more permanent and ask for your hand in marriage." He glanced at her distressed expression in delight. "Not to worry I know how to handle him." He looked thoughtful of a sudden. "You see, I don't speak to many of the women at length. My father most likely sees our regular discourse as a spark of interest." 

Devonny's brows lifted. "And is he correct? Why are you speaking to me?" 

Teddy smiled a genuine smile at her. "Because you're new. You're interesting. You're not a twit. And it seems as though you could care less whether I wished to marry you or not." 

Devonny returned his smile, shaking her head. "Your poor father." 

***

Devonny trailed her fingertips over the velvety petals of the flowering rose bush in the gardens behind Kedleston hall. Teddy Edmondson's words the day before were not easy to shake. 

"And then there was one," she murmured absently. 

For some reason it bothered her now. Truly, she had always been alone—for as long as she could remember. Her entire life had been a state of perpetual lonesomeness that she accepted. It pained her little. But that seemed to have changed since she arrived at the Davenport household. Moira and Miles had taken her under their wings. Prince and Elijah had become immediate friends to her. And Gabriel...Gabriel was likely the reason that the idea of being alone bothered her so.

She heaved a sigh. Time. Time and distance were likely the only remedy. 

"Devonny." 

Devonny froze at the sound of her name on the object of her musing's lips. She turned to see him standing mere feet from her. She had been so preoccupied by her own thoughts she hadn't noticed his hesitant approach. 

She turned to him smiling rigidly "Gabriel," she said his name smoothly. "Was there something I could do for you?"

Gabriel grimaced inwardly. She was ever reminding him of her place and his. He perused her calico clad form beneath the parasol that shielded her face from the sun. He cleared his throat. "I simply wanted to inquire about Prince's engagement to Elizabeth Madison and the celebration at the Madison's. I had thought that we should have a small celebration here as well—not just to celebrate the betrothal but Prince's many accomplishments with his stables and the construction of his home. 

Devonny twirled the parasol thoughtfully. "I think that it would be quite nice for Prince to be able to celebrate with all the people that care for him."

"Good," Gabriel nodded. "I shall see to it." He shifted, running his hand over the blooms on one of the rosebushes she had so reverently been perusing. "And I wanted to apologize," he said fixing her with his unwavering emerald gaze. "Again—for the other night in the kitchen." He looked sheepish and shook his head. "I don't know what's wrong with me. It's as though I lose all sense with you." 

At those words, she averted her gaze and trained it on the cobblestones beneath her white kid boots. 

When she said nothing, he stepped closer. Her soft honey colored eyes lifted to his and she took a deliberate step back from him. 

"Gabriel," her voice was low. "We can't keep doing this. It's not good for either of us." She lifted her chin. "And as such, I cannot stay here. Surely, you see that. You must. Surely, you know—as well as I—that things can't continue this way." 

Gabriel stiffened, tightness and discomfort spreading through his chest. "And where would you go? Who would watch over you?" 

Devonny gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders, feigning nonchalance. "I am not a child, Gabriel, and I shall have to learn to look after myself one day, especially if I do not marry and have a husband to do so." 

Gabriel's dark brows knitted together as his gaze searched her face. "And what of Rochard?" 

Her lips thinned, her expression growing somber. "I can't let him control my life, Gabriel. If I let him dictate every decision I make, I would be letting him win. I won't let him win." 

"When will you go?" 

She smiled a faint sad smile. "Not until the end of the season at least. I shall have to see how things progress." She met his intent gaze. "But we know that this," she gestured between the two of them. "Has to stop. I shouldn't be here." She blinked rapidly, clearing her vision of tears. "It hurts too much." 

Gabriel stared at her. It was the first inclination she'd ever given him that she felt just as tormented as he did. "Devonny—" 

"No." She shook her head vigorously and took another step away from him. "Please," she said so softly, he barely heard her. "Just let it be." 

"Devonny?" Prince was there beside them suddenly. His gaze switched anxiously between Devonny and his friend. "Am I interrupting something?" 

Gabriel said nothing. A muscle in his finely sculpted jaw ticked tensely. 

Devonny smiled brightly. "Of course not. What is it?"

Prince quirked a skeptical brow at the two of them in response but shrugged and directed himself to Devonny. "Teddy Edmondson has come by with me. I thought perhaps you might like to see him."

Surprise flickered over her features. "Of course." She glanced at Gabriel and then back to Prince. 

"He's in the stables with Bernardo stabling his mount," Prince supplied

"I'll meet him there then," she said softly, avoiding Gabriel's heated gaze as she dropped a slight curtsey and went in search of Teddy. 

She found him with Bernardo, stabling a magnificent caramel colored Polish Bay. He grinned, seeing her and clapped Bernardo on the shoulder as he came toward her. 

He was dressed in a rather fine riding jacket and tall black boots displaying a high shine. He swept the top hat from his head and tucked it into his arm while he tugged off his right glove. "Madamoiselle Adams." He swept and elegant bow when she slipped her hand into his. 

She returned his greeting with a similarly elaborate curtsey. "Monsieur Edmondson." She gestured to the stable entryway with an exaggerated sweep of her hand. "Shall we?" 

"Of course," Teddy tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. 

Devonny rolled her eyes dramatically and aimed a backward grin Bernardo who winked back at her in amusement as the pair headed toward the gardens. 

***

"What are you doing?" Prince asked as he entered the study. Gabriel stood at the window. It was a loaded question, he knew. 

Gabriel watched Devonny stroll around the gardens with the young, handsome, and wealthy Theodore Edmondson. They made quite the striking couple: both young, beautiful, and charming. The Edmondsons were well known, even among his set. They were the wealthiest gen du couleur in all the counties. Devonny would be well taken care of and she would no longer be a servant girl subject to Rochard's whims. 

He watched her throw back her head with laughter as Teddy Edmondson leaned close and grinned at her. 

His guts twisted. He'd never seen such unbridled laughter from her, never more than a faint wisp of a smile. 

"Gabe." Prince's voice shook him from his thoughts and he took a long sip from his glass of bourbon. 

Prince sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, settling a somber look upon his friend. "What are you doing with her, Gabe?" 

Gabriel frowned, taking another long draught. "With whom?" He coughed as the sharp bitterness of the spirit caught in his throat. 

Prince lifted a brow. Gabriel Davenport hid his emotions better than any man he knew but undoubtedly he knew him well enough to know when he was troubled—and Gabriel had been naught but deeply troubled from the moment Devonny Clarke set foot in Davenport House. 

"Of whom do you speak?" Gabriel queried dryly. 

Prince shook his head and met Gabriel's gaze steadily. "You know exactly what I mean." He jerked his head toward the window. "And you know who I mean." 

"I'm not doing anything," Gabriel replied smoothly. He smiled a drawn smile. "And I have no intention of doing anything." 

Prince eyed him skeptically. He believed in Gabriel unconditionally. Gabriel was an honest and honorable man like his father. He didn't doubt that. It was the brief flicker of torment he caught in Gabriel's eyes that worried him. He hesitated, mulling over his next words

carefully. "Do you love her?"

Gabriel snorted, ready to deny it but then he shrugged and returned his friend's gaze. "I care for her very much," he said carefully. 

Prince nodded, seeming to consider this. 

Gabriel frowned, swishing the amber spirits around the glass. "She intends to leave. Did you know that?" 

Prince's ebony brows quirked at this but he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Surely you did not expect her to remain with us forever?"

Gabriel winced, swearing under his breath. It had not occurred to him until then that his time would be so short. 

***

"To Prince!" Gabriel lifted his glass, a wide grin splitting his face. It was a rare smile from him and it made Devonny's heart stutter in her chest at the sight of it. 

"And to his lovely betrothed," Elijah put in, raising his glass as well. 

"To Prince and Elizabeth!" Moira beamed. 

"To Prince and Elizabeth!" They all echoed. 

They had gathered in the parlor following an extraordinary evening meal. The Davenports, the Madisons, Moira, Miles, Sadie, Ursula, Bernardo and Devonny had all gathered for an elaborate small intimate meal in celebration. 

Now they gathered in the parlor, drinks in hand. The mood was jovial and light-hearted. Truly, it was a evening among friends and family. 

"And now, it's my turn." Prince stepped into the center of the room. "To my bride," he looked to Elizabeth, radiant in a pale blue gown who beamed back at him. "You have made me the most happy man in the world." He inhaled deeply, "And to my family..." His gaze traveled over Miles and Moira and he winked at Devonny before his gaze settled upon Gabriel and Elijah. "Your father was the kindest most righteous man I have ever known. And your mother—she was all grace, beauty, and good heartedness. I was sorry to lose them. But were it not you two—their sons who possess the same fine qualities—I would not have found the success I have, and undoubtedly would have never had the opportunity to meet my future bride." He grinned and raised his wine glass. "To the Davenports, those here and those here in spirit."

"To the Davenports," they repeated. 

Bernardo opened a leather case at his feet and drew forth a small violin. Moira and Ursula clapped in delight and while Prince, Elijah and Gabriel moved to push aside the furniture, clearing a space in the center of the room. 

Bernardo set the violin to his chin and Elijah grabbed Devonny's hand pulling her to the center where Prince and Elizabeth stood. Gabriel paired with Moira, Mr. and Mrs. Madison with one another, while Miles, Ursula while Sadie took a sat to watch. 

Laughter filled the room as Bernardo started to play a quadrille. Devonny turned and made a small curtsey to Elijah and then turned once more to curtsey to Prince who was at her right. 

She moved gracefully through the steps, a brilliant smile upon her face despite her unease. Gabriel was across from her with Moira and she would undoubtedly find herself in close proximity. She brushed by Elizabeth who giggled, her skirts swishing around her as the dancers made their elaborate turns and circles. 

Devonny glided forward, slipping her palm into Gabriel's hand as they slid past each other. Her breast brushed his arm causing her stomach to drop. Her gaze flew to his as they traded respective spots and halted waiting the next turn. His were intent on her, bright and heated. The women moved in a swirl of skirts to form a small inner circle while the men formed a larger outer circle. The circles moved in opposite directions before they halted before their respective partners. 

Devonny halted back in front of Elijah who grinned and winked at her. The dancers moved apart and whirled only to switch partners once more and Devonny found herself on Gabriel Davenport's arm. Muscle flexed beneath her fingertip and familiar heat swelled in her belly when his hands closed around her waist as he whirled her around, his emerald gaze trained on her flushed upturned face. 

She was then passed off to Prince who looked so incredibly happy that he might burst and had trouble keeping his eyes off his gloriously beaming betrothed. 

Bernardo continued to stroke the strings of the violin into beautiful strains as the pairs continued dancing, putting her in regular physical contact with Gabriel. Each touch made her heart ache, discomfiting warmth blooming in her chest and staining her cheeks. His expression was intent when he came to her, unsmiling though his eyes were lit with amusement. It made her lightheaded. 

She stumbled in her steps, falling against him. He righted her smoothly, one corner of his mouth lifting. "Are you alright?" he murmured. 

She nodded as he delivered her back into Elijah's arms. Elijah lifted his brows at her slightly dazed expression. She smiled faintly at him in return. 

Hours later, Miles and Moira had headed to bed while Ursula, Sadie and Bernardo had all retreated to their respective rooms. Devonny stood on the steps outside the main door between Gabriel and Elijah as Prince handed Elizabeth into the Madison's barouche. Waving at Elizabeth in farewell, Devonny turned and lifted her hem to reenter the house. 

"Your dancing has much improved," Eli complimented, falling into step beside her. 

Devonny smiled. "Why, thank you. I had a wonderful tutor." She inclined her head. "Goodnight, Eli." 

Elijah leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Goodnight, Devonny." 

He watched as she headed down the hall and turned the corner out of sight. 

"And you dare speak of impropriety to me?" Gabriel growled behind him. 

Elijah turned to his brother smoothly, his expression the very picture of inocence. "Pardon?" 

Gabriel scowled at him. "You accuse me of plotting to sully her reputation—of plotting to confuse her and bend her to my will--and yet I find you kissing her goodnight when dare you speak to me of impropriety. And don't think I haven't seen the way you look at her." 

Elijah glared at him. "You are jealous." 

Gabriel let out a bark of laughter. "Jealous?" 

"Yes," Elijah hissed, taking a step toward his brother whose hands curled into fists. "She would never allow you so near." Elijah smiled coolly. "She would never allow you to press your lips to her lovely golden flesh in so casual a manner." He watched Gabriel's face suffuse with color and rage but he continued. "And her lips," he sighed, "are like live velvet petals in their wondrous softness—" 

Gabriel seized him in a move faster than the eye could follow, grasping the lapels of his jacket and propelled him backward into the wall rattling the heavy gilded frames that hung there. He seethed with fury, his face close to his brother's. "If you have touched her—" 

A coy smile curved on Elijah's lips. "She has never once objected to my touch." 

Gabriel paled, the blood seeming to drain from his face as he abruptly as he stepped back. "What have I done to hurt you so? Why is it that you torment me, brother?" 

Elijah smiled tightly as he straightened his jacket with delicate attention. "I love you, Gabe, more than anything in this world. You think I don't understand how you feel but I do," he said softly. "I know what it's like to love someone who is deemed entirely unsuitable." He lifted his cerulean gaze to clash with Gabriel's. "And I know what it is like to have that person taken from you." 

Gabriel stared at his brother in disbelief. He swallowed thickly, guilt swelled in his chest. He pushed the sentiment away. His voice was low and expressionless. "Is that what you intend; to take her away from me? Out of spite? For revenge?" 

Elijah gave a light shrug though his eyes remained steady on Gabriel. "That is her choice. Not mine." He clicked his heels together, gave a slight mocking bow and departed, leaving Gabriel alone with his thoughts. 

***

Devonny frowned at her bedroom door which had so recently been knocked upon with a bit more force than necessary. She had little doubt who it was. There was but one person who came to her door at inopportune hours of the night. He had already apologized once today. What could he possibly want now?




Devonny Ch. 11



She slipped her dressing gown over her night dress and wrenched the door open. "Yes?" 

Gabriel Davenport stood there looking incredibly pale though his eyes glittered strangely. A shock of dark hair fell over his brow. He stepped into her room, at once lifting his hand to trail the back of his fingers over her cheek. 

"Is it true?" His voice was no louder than a whisper. 

Devonny searched his pallid faceand cocked her head quizzically. "Is what true, Gabriel?" she asked in wonder. Her brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

Gabriel took her chin between his thumb and his forefinger. "He said that you had allowed him to touch you...to kiss you." 

Eye widening, Devonny took and unsteady step back from him. Her breath left her. The air in the room was charged. "Who said this thing?"

"Elijah." Gabriel's intent gaze tracked her movements. "Is it true?" His voice was silky and low though wrath seemed to simmer below the surface. 

Devonny opened her mouth to deny it but she halted. Yes, Elijah had always been overtly familiar with her and she had not protested beyond stepping out of his grasp when he exceeded his bounds. And he had kissed her. She thought back to that faint brush of his lips against hers, intended to shock her out of her sadness. 

Gabriel watched the emotions flicker over her soft features. But she did not deny it when she lifted her eyes to his. His chest tightened. 

Her eyes grew wet and she trembled slightly. He was angry with her but he did not care to see her cry. "Devonny—"

Unexpectedly she darted around him and raced from the room. 

"Devonny!" He stood frozen as he watched her gown whip around her ankles as she fled in a swish of white gown and mantle, bare feet carrying her away. 

She tore down the hall toward the opposite wing of the house. Her blood seemed to pound in her ears as she was overcome by anger and emotion. Before she knew what she was doing she flung open the door to Elijah's apartment. 

Elijah bolted upright in bed at the sudden intrusion, the sheets and mantle puddling around his bare torso. He pushed his hair out of his eyes to see Devonny standing, trembling at the foot of his bed. 

She spoke through clenched teeth, her hands balled into tiny fists. "How dare you!" 

Elijah slipped from the bed, careful to wrap the sheet around his lower half as he did so. "Devonny—" he began.

"NO!" She shouted, cutting him off. She skirted away from him when he reached for her. She shook her head vehemently. "I asked you to keep me out of your games and your plans to hurt your brother. I BEGGED you!" She continued backing away from him, mirroring his movements when he would have edged closer. "You promised me it would never get so far—that you would never jeopardize my position here." 

Elijah's expression was pained. "Please, Devonny. I lost my head. I don't know what I was thinking." 

Her gaze grew distant as her face saddened. "What must you think of me?" Her eyes shot to his. "Did you think that because you buy me pretty things, that I would allow you to use me?" 

His shoulders slumped. "Of course not."

A strange giggle bubble up from her throat. "How silly of me." She laughed but tears slipped beyond her lashes. "Nothing comes without its price. Is that what you meant by your small touches, by that kiss? Were you hoping to get me into bed as payment for all your generosity?" 

Elijah's eyes widened at her accusation. "No." 

Devonny smiled a disturbingly vacant smile. "To think...I had thought that because you spoke to me as an equal—treated me like one—that you actually thought of me as one." She shook her head. "How could I have been so stupid?" she murmured for to herself than to him as she turned to go. 

"Wait, please!" his hand closed around her wrist. 

A resounding crack filled the room and Elijah and Devonny stared at one another, his hand still closed around her wrist. She had slapped him. She blinked rapidly in disbelief of her own actions. Good Lord. She had hit him. 

Elijah stared at her in utter shock as she paled. 

"I'm sorry," she rushed out. "I should not have...I'm sorry." She tugged frantically at his grasp only to have him enclose her other wrist and drag her against him as he trapped her hands against the flesh of his bare chest. His heart thudded at a brisk pace beneath her palms as his chest rose and fell. 

"Devonny," he ducked his head to meet her gaze when she would not look at him. He sighed when he caught her eyes. There was such pain in those amber depths and he was the cause. His voice was soft, wounded. "I'm sorry. I deserve that. I'm sorry." 

Gabriel cleared his throat behind them, causing Elijah to release her abruptly. 

When Devonny turned to him, her flushed golden cheeks were streaked with tears. She stepped swiftly away from Elijah, her eyes darting between the two men. She wrapped her arms around herself as thought to ward them off. 

Her voice was strong though it wavered with emotion and anger when she spoke. "Am I some plaything to the two of you? To use in your games when the mood strikes?"She lifted her chin in defiance, eyes flashing. "I am in your employ, your servant though you seem loath to call me such. I will clean up after you, cook your meals, launder your linens, mend your clothes...but I will NOT let you treat me so. I will not be subject to your whims and petty rivalry." She swallowed thickly. I cannot bear any more of it." 

"Excuse me," she mumbled, brushing by Gabriel on her way from the room. It took every fiber of his being not to go after her. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and beg her forgiveness. 

Instead, he met his brother's troubled gaze. 

Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "What a bloody mess." 

"What you said wasn't true was it?" Gabriel ground out. 

Elijah glanced at him. "Not in the way I phrased it. No," he sighed. 

And without a word, Gabriel turned on his heel and strode from the room, slamming the door so hard it seemed to rattle the entire room. 

Devonny raced down the hall back to her room, stopping short when she saw Moira there in her dressing gown, a long grey braid peaking from beneith her mob cap. 

Moira stopped mid-stride in her pacing when she saw Devonny in the doorway. "Are you alright, child?" she asked, wringing her hands. 

Devonny's face crumpled and she dissolved into tears as Moira's arms closed around her. 

***

Gabriel found that it was all but impossible to catch Devonny alone over the next few weeks. She had abandoned her walks in the gardens. She no longer lingered in the stables talking to Orion and the other horses in hushed tones as she slipped them apples and carrots from the kitchen. Even they seemed to miss her presence. 

She was ever in the kitchens helping Ursula with the meals or helping Sadie launder the bedding or mend clothing. The only break in her routine came when Theodore Edmondson would call. She would allow him to accompany her on short walks or on a ride about the property. Teddy Edmondson was the only one for whom her somber façade seemed to crack. 

But she did not look well. She looked drawn and tired. It seemed as though every bit of spark that she possessed had gone out of her. 

It was killing him. 

Elijah had taken to showering her with elaborate gifts , all of which had been surreptitiously been returned to his quarters at some point. 

Gabriel was ever watchful for an opportunity to speak to her but none ever came. He wanted to avoid arousing the interest of the rest of the household but it looked as though it could not be helped. 

He strode into the kitchens that were bustling with activity in preparation for the evening's dinner party and multitude of guests. The kitchen was filled with people he'd brought in from the village to help in the work. He spotted Devonny amidst the chaos attempting to slip outside in the commotion. 

"Devonny." His voice boomed over the milieu halting all activity. 

They all turned to him with wide eyed looks. All except Devonny who froze, her delicate shoulders hunching. 

"I would speak to you now, please," he said and her honey colored eyes grew round. 

Defiance flickered in her gaze and for a moment he thought she would refuse him. But she seemed to think better of it. He allowed her to pass before him as she shot him a glare. He nodded to the staff, watching in mild shock. "Please continue," he nodded and departed, but not before Moira who was overseeing everything fixed him with a warning look. He smiled thinly at her in reassurance. 

Devonny awaited him in the main hall, her expression apprehensive. 

"To the study if you please," he motioned for her to continue ahead of him. 

Gabriel inhaled deeply as he followed her. He would fix this. He had much to tell her. 



Devonny Ch. 12



Chapter 12...

Gabriel found that it was all but impossible to catch Devonny alone over the next few weeks. She had abandoned her walks in the gardens. She no longer lingered in the stables talking to Orion and the other horses in hushed tones as she slipped them apples and carrots from the kitchen. Even they seemed to miss her presence. 

She was ever in the kitchens helping Ursula with the meals or helping Sadie launder the bedding or mend clothing. The only break in her routine came when Theodore Edmondson would call. She would allow him to accompany her on short walks or on a ride about the property. Teddy Edmondson was the only one for whom her somber façade seemed to crack. 

But she did not look well. She looked drawn and tired. It seemed as though every bit of spark that she possessed had gone out of her. 

It was killing him. 

Elijah had taken to showering her with elaborate gifts , all of which had been surreptitiously been returned to his quarters at some point. 

Gabriel was ever watchful for an opportunity to speak to her but none ever came. He wanted to avoid arousing the interest of the rest of the household but it looked as though it could not be helped. 

He strode into the kitchens that were bustling with activity in preparation for the evening's dinner party and multitude of guests. The kitchen was filled with people he'd brought in from the village to help in the work. He spotted Devonny amidst the chaos attempting to slip outside in the commotion. 

"Devonny." His voice boomed over the milieu halting all activity. 

They all turned to him with wide eyed looks. All except Devonny who froze, her delicate shoulders hunching. 

"I would speak to you now, please," he said and her honey colored eyes grew round. 

Defiance flickered in her gaze and for a moment he thought she would refuse him. But she seemed to think better of it as her gaze passed over the stunned faces of the kitchen's other inhabitants. 

He allowed her to pass before him as she shot him a glare. He nodded to the staff, watching him in mild shock. "Please continue," he nodded and departed, but not before Moira who was overseeing everything fixed him with a warning look. He smiled thinly at her in reassurance. 

Devonny awaited him in the main hall, her expression apprehensive. 

"To the study if you please," he motioned for her to continue ahead of him. 

Gabriel inhaled deeply as he followed her. He would fix this. He had much to tell her.

Devonny entered the study ahead of him and turned expectantly when he entered and closed the door behind him. 

He gestured to one of the armchairs set before a low table and the settee. "Will you sit?" 

She eyed him warily. "No, sir," she murmured. 

Gabriel's dark brows lifted. "No?" 

She said nothing in reply but merely continued to look at him with those bewitching amber eyes of hers. 

"You are angry with me," he said, a statement not a question. 

"No, sir," she said softly. His face betrayed his shock and confusion at this and she continued. "All is as it should be." 

Gabriel blinked at her, stunned and Devonny knew he understood her completely. They were not friends. They were not having a dalliance. They were done unwittingly hurting one another, she hoped. She was as distant from him as she had ever been and it was as things should have been from the moment she entered his employ. 

Gabriel inhaled, his face thoughtful. "I had wished to apologize." 

She seemed to consider this, a slight frown appearing on her lovely face. She shook her head. "That isn't necessary," she said as much to herself as she did to him. A man such as him did not apologize for hurting his servant's feelings, she reminded herself. She flinched inwardly at her own thoughts but she drew herself upward and forced herself to look at him. She kept her gaze on the center of his chest. It was not right that she meet his gaze. "I am a servant. I am poor and my skin is dark. I am not good enough for you. And you..." she swallowed thickly. "You mean....nothing to me." Her heart beat wildly in her chest, blood seeming to rush in her ears as heat suffused her face. "Was there something else you wished, sir?" 

Gabriel stared at her, feeling as though a fist were clenched around his heart. She was right of course. Oh, she was more than good enough for him. She was all that was beauty, grace and goodness but she was not for him. She was always right but he did not believe a word that came from her mouth. His voice was low. "No, Devonny. There was nothing else." 

"Sir." She dropped a small curtsey and he held study door for open for her to leave. 

She moved by him without sparing him a glance and made her way back towards the kitchens. 

Gabriel closed the door behind her with a sigh. No, an apology would not suffice as he had thought. He would have to earn her regard by some other means. 

***

Devonny tucked the ends of her apron up into the waist tie and sighing she dropped a couple of apples into the pouch she'd created. She'd been neglecting the horses, depriving them of her attentions for fear of finding herself alone with Gabriel or Elijah. 

Elijah's gifts distressed her. His gifts were the primary point of their discord and yet every day there was some new trinket artfully wrapped and sitting in front of her door.

She'd returned every last item to his quarters but it didn't seem to deter him. It was quintessential Elijah; throw money and gifts at a problem completely missing the point and the grounds for the dissention in the first place. 

Gabriel on the other hand seemed to be more brooding than usual if that were at all possible, his hooded gaze following her wherever she moved.

Moira did not ask her what had occurred between Devonny and the Davenport men though the rift was obvious. 

Devonny made her way toward the stables, lost in her own thoughts. She'd occupied herself with mindless tasks perfectly suited to keeping her out of sight and hopefully out of mind. But she missed riding and she missed brushing Orion's flanks to a high shine while his tail switched in delight. Hence, she gathered up a bunch of apples and slipped out of the kitchens intending to make up for lost time. 

At least it seemed that she had finally achieved some modicum of distance between herself and the Davenport brothers. Perhaps she could manage to preserve the last shred of her dignity and her sanity.

She shook her head. She missed Elijah's companionship fiercely. She doubtless had considered him her dearest friend and confidant. But she had been wrong and he manipulated her. His callous single-mindedness has wounded her deeply. 

The distance between herself and Gabriel was not unfamiliar. It always seemed that as soon as they had reached a tenuous peace, that peace was uprooted and reduced to cool glances and furrowed brows. 

'Good,' she reminded herself. 'Distance both physical and emotional would make it all the more uncomplicated to leave when the time came.

She was deep in her melancholy thoughts when the toe of her boot caught a stone causing her to trip and stumble on the hem of her skirt just short of the stable entrance. 

Letting out a small yelp, she caught herself against the side of the building but not before an apple slipped free of her apron and fell to the ground to with a dull thunk, rolled away from her into the arch of the entrance. 

She shook her head. She never considered herself exceedingly graceful. At least she hadn't torn her gown.

Swearing lightly under her breath she reached for the apple and crossed the threshold only to be confronted with the blurred sight of hooves coming rapidly toward her from the stable interior. 

Devonny straightened with a shriek and threw herself backwards as Titan reared, pawing the air. Apples tumbled from her apron as she landed on her rump and watched in horrified as shocked Gabriel Davenport was dumped unceremoniously from the saddle to fall hard on the ground.

Gabriel felt Titan suddenly rear up under him, the reins were jerked from his hand and he was flung from his stallions back. The world tilted and the ground rushed up to meet him. He didn't even have time to brace himself from the fall. Crippling pain rippled up his side and shoulder as he hit the ground. He heard the sickening crunch of his own bones and he knocked his skull against the ground hard enough to send his vision momentarily black.

"Oh sweet Jesus!" Devonny cried, lunging as the skittish stallion pranced sideways toward his former rider's prone form. 

Snatching the reins, Devonny hauled the large mount away, gripping his bridle when tossed his head and balked. She quickly wrapped the reins around a post, making sure they were secure. 

Gabriel had yet to move. She flung herself to his side, terror clawing at her throat. 

He blinked rapidly up at her, his gaze unfocused. "Gabriel!" She leaned over him taking his face between her hands. "Gabriel, please!" She leaned over him, her nose inches from his own and stared into his unfocused eyes. 

She noticed absently that his eyes were not wholly green; the pupils were ringed with gold and the iris was flecked with dark grey. His eyes were incredible this close. How had she not noticed before?

He let out a shuddering breath, his vision seeming to clear as he gazed up at her. "Good God, woman?" he wheezed. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Devonny jerked upright. "Oh, thank God," she whispered, her gaze briefly flickering upward. "You're alright," she breathed. 

"The devil I am." Gabriel winced, pain evident in his expression as he struggled to raise himself. "Now help me up." 

Devonny slid under his arm and wrapped her arms around his waist helping him rise. 

He let out a low cry as her hold on him sent an excruciating pain through his side that nearly stole his consciousness from him once more. His weight sagged against her, almost causing her to lose her balance and tumble them both to the ground. 

Devonny braced him upward with all her strength. "Gabriel, what is it? Your head?" 

Gabriel grimaced. "No, my ribs. Christ. I think I've broken my ribs." 

Their progress across the walk to the house was slow. Each step jarred him, causing a new agonizing wave of pain to shoot up his side. 

Gabriel Davenport was not a small man and his arm was heavy around her shoulders but she was determined not to drop him or let him stumble. His scent enveloped her; clean soap, leather and a hint of tobacco. Concentrating on each step was growing difficult. 

"Just a bit further," she gasped. 

And just then—thank God—Prince and Bernardo came running from the house. 

"What happened?" Prince demanded, quickly taking her place from under Gabriel's arm. Bernardo went to take Gabriel's other side but Gabriel jerked away only his expression tightening with pain. 

"My ribs," Gabriel hissed out through gritted teeth. "My ribs are broken."

"Dios mío," Bernardo shook his head in sympathy. "Qué occurío? What happened? 

Gabriel wheezed a cough. "She tried to kill me." 

Devonny's gaze widened at that, her mouth dropping over in shock as Bernardo and Prince turning to stare at her. "I did not!" she near shouted in outrage. "It was an accident! An accident! I startled his horse!" 

Gabriel chuckled and winced immediately at the movement. "I'm joking, Devonny. Joking."

Devonny huffed. "You should get inside."

Bernardo nodded. "Yes, we'll get you inside and send for Doctor Lenox."

"I don't need a doctor," Gabriel grumbled. "It's just some broken bones."

"That's for Doctor Lenox to decide," Prince admonished, gingerly leading Gabriel towards the house. 

Devonny didn't follow them in the house. She returned to the stables to find Titan straining against his reigns for an apple that had fallen just out of reach. 

Devonny smiled and scooped up the apple holding it out in her palm so that the large Stallion could pluck it between his teeth. She rubbed her hand down his nose as he chomped down on the fruit. "Frightened each other didn't we, boy?" she mused, though she fretted over Gabriel's injuries. 

Devonny unwound the reins and led him to his stall. She unbuckled his saddle and then hefted it from his back. She also removed the blanket from beneath and hung it over the stall door. She ran a brush over his flanks and mane before she moved on to give the other horses their treats and attentions. 

When she could stand it no longer, she ventured back into the house. She found Moira in the kitchen setting a tray with tea and biscuits. She glanced up and smiled when she saw Devonny. 

"Has the doctor been come yet?" Devonny ventured.

"Oh, he's come and gone," Moira said and dusted her hands off on her apron. "Now if you please, would you take this up to him?"

Devonny stared at her as if she had grown two heads. "I don't think so, Moira. I'm the last person he wants to see."

Moira pushed the tray toward her. "He's asleep. The doctor gave him something for the pain. He won't even know you're there."

Smiling weakly, Devonny took the tray, feeling Moira's eyes on her as she left. 

She shouldered open his door tentatively. Gabriel lay propped up against a stack of pillows, his dark hair falling across his brow. His thickly lashed lids were thankfully closed. 

Devonny released a pent up sigh as she crossed the room, her gaze glued to Gabriel's prone form. His broad muscular chest was bare; a broad white bandage was wrapped around his torso. 

One green eye slid open. His voice was low. "Coming to finish me off?" 

Devonny halted in her tracks, gripping the tray in her hands. "Sir, you're awake."

His eyes slid open and he gave her a wry smile. "I'm a light sleeper." He smirked. "Years in the army will do that to you."

She moved to set the tray on the bedside table. "I'm truly sorry, sir. I did not wish to see you hurt." 

Gabriel eyed her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You weren't exacting revenge for my continuously abhorrent treatment of you?" 

"Of course not!" she stared at him, open mouthed. "It was an accident!"

Shaking her head she turned to go only to have Gabriel suddenly reach forward and grasp her hand. "Devonny, wait." She tensed only to have him abruptly release her. He winced at the sudden movement, gritting his teeth. 

"I'm sorry," he quickly apologized seeing the look of apprehension on her face. "I did not mean to startle you," he rushed on. "But I had hoped that you might stay." 

Her brows shot upward. "Stay?"

Gabriel smiled, chagrinned. "I had thought that you might read to me? I'm horrible at being idle. If you would but stay for a bit..." he gestured to the bookshelves. "You can read anything you like. I've got plenty of Shakespeare. Please," he added at her hesitation. 

Devonny reluctantly nodded and moved to the sitting area where she dragged an armchair across the carpet to his bedside. He moved as though he would help her move the heavy chair but seemed to think better of it as his body protested. 

He watched as she then went to his bookshelf to peruse its contents. She plucked one book and then another. She then settled herself into the armchair. She eyed the tray she had set at his bedside. "You should drink up."

Lifting a brow, he poured the tea into a teacup and brought it to his mouth before hesitating. Wrinkling his nose he considered the cup and its steaming contents. "Smells like one of Sadie's potions." 

She grinned at him. "That it is." 

He took a tentative sip, frowning. "Taking pleasure in my misfortune now, are we?" 

Devonny glanced at him and cracked the book. "I am allowed a bit of pleasure on occasion, am I not?"

Gabriel choked on his tea at those words, spilling the liquid on his chest and effectively scalding himself. 

Devonny reached out and plucked a cloth napkin from the tray and handed it to him wordlessly though a flicker of a smirk crossed her lips. 

She settled herself back into the chair as Gabriel dried his chest. She tugged the mop cab from her head and cleared her throat dramatically. She pitched her voice low and took on an Italian accent. "I learn this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina." 

A burst of laughter from Gabriel earned him a dark look though she merely cleared her throat once more and continued, this time affecting an altogether different tone and manner. "He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off when I left him." 

Gabriel laid back against the pillows, unable to keep the smile from stretching across his face. She was in her own world, already switching roles and making new impersonations. 

Gabriel watched her animated face as she toed off her boots and drew her legs up beneath her and he soon got lost in Shakespeare's tale as well. 

Devonny was finishing up Act 3 before she noticed the time. She closed the book with a snap. "I should go. It's near dinner time and I should help Ursula and Sadie prepare."

She uncurled from the chair and slipped her feet back into her boots. She bent to lace them up, her hair spilling over her face and blocking him from view. 

"Will you bring me my meal when it is already?" He watched as she shook her riotous curls back from her face and straightened. 

Her voice was cool and she eyed him warily. "If you wish it."

He smirked. "I do." 

She shrugged her shoulders lightly. "Fine."

"And finish the story perhaps?"

She stared at him but said nothing. 

He crossed his arms over his bare chest, fixing her with an intent look. "You did injure me grievously." He shifted and winced for good measure.

Devonny rolled her eyes. "I'm beginning to think you deserved it."

And with that she left him. 

***

Devonny did indeed return that evening. Gabriel was still abed though he was freshly shaven and his dark hair was coaxed back from his face. 

He had donned a black damask dressing jacket and he smiled at her brightly when she entered. "I wasn't sure you would come."

Devonny did not smile in return but grimaced. "Moira sent me. Made me feel exceedingly guilty for nearly murdering the oldest Davenport heir. She said something about me doing all that I was able to do to keep you abed and ensure your rapid recovery." 

Gabriel smirked at the phrasing but quickly snuffed out that smile in favor of a more subdued expression. "Very well. Whatever your reason I'm glad for the company." He picked up the leather bound play from his bedside and held it out to her. 

Devonny retrieved it for him and sank into the armchair which was still in place at his bedside as though it were waiting expectantly for her. 

She opened the book, sorting quickly through the pages to find her spot. She did so and stared down at the pages. 

More than a minute went by. 

"Devonny?"

She looked at him. The book in her lap. "You said you were in the army?" 

His brows rose. He was surprised by her question. 

Her amber gaze was steady on him. "Earlier. You said you were a light sleeper. You said that the army had done that to you."

Gabriel cleared he throat. "Yes. I was in the cavalry." 

Devonny seemed to consider this. 

"Did you fight abroad?" 

He gave her a long look. Her almond-shaped honey colored gaze was soberly trained on him, sharp with interest and a look he had not seen before on her countenance. 

"I was very young when I fought in the conflict with the Afghans. I was at the battle of Kabul to avenge the massacre of Elphinstone's army. I was in India after that."

Devonny was silent, seeming to mull over his words. 

When she finally spoke, her words were so soft he barely heard them. "Does it stay with you?"

Gabriel frowned deeply. "Death, blood, disease...losing friends and men at arms. Yes, it stays with you. It stays with me to this day." 

Devonny nodded absently at this, her brow tensing as she traced her fingertips over the embossed cover of the book in her lap. 




Devonny Ch. 12



"Why do you ask?" he asked, the gentleness in his voice surprising even himself. 

Her lovely eyes were troubled when she looked at him again. "I simply wondered..." her voice trailed off and she sighed lifting her shoulders. "I simply wondered," she spoke hesitantly. "If terrible things that you see—that happen to you—stay with you forever. I wondered if you were able to get past things or if those memories are always with you. 

Gabriel eyed her grimly. "You are speaking of Rochard." It wasn't a question.

She shook her head, her lashes sweeping against her cheeks. "There were others before Rochard." 

Gabriel stiffened, growing darkly ominous but she was quick to reassure him. 

"No, not in the way you are thinking. When I was a child and I ran away from the orphanage, I cut off all my hair and joined a group of street boys. Even as a child I knew the danger of being a girl alone in the city. So I decided not to be a girl. But we were made to steal and pick pockets. If we didn't bring back enough or if we refused we were beaten. I watched a friend of mine be clubbed to death before my eyes." 

"It's how I was brought to Madam Pomfrey's. I had refused to steal." She shook her head. "Stupid of me. I was beaten within an inch of my life and then they put me right back to work before I was even fully healed. I was attempting a rather crude pick pocket of a rather fine gentleman. He caught me and I remember expecting him to give me another beating but I remember him taking me by the arms and lifting me up. It was as though he were looking right through me. I think he knew immediately that I was a girl and he had the greenest eyes I'd ever seen, kind of like yours. I had never seen eyes that color. I was mesmerized," she said looking at him. "But he put me down and dragged me to Madam Pomfrey's where she gave me a good scrubbing and put me in a dress." 

Devonny smiled ruefully. "Those two, Margaret and that gentleman saved my life." Her smooth brow furrowed. "After the Reverend and his wife passed, I had known nothing but cruelty, torture and hurt. All that changed when that gentleman found me. But I always wonder if those cruel memories will fade or if I'll always feel helpless and vulnerable. I wonder if I'll always need a rescuer or if I'll ever be my own rescuer."

Gabriel's stomach clenched at the uncertainty and hopelessness in her tone. He wanted to murder anyone who had ever laid a finger on her. He marveled at her incredible spirit. At her young age, she had been through more hardship than many saw in a lifetime and yet she was all kindness and goodness. The girl was astounding. 

Devonny flushed suddenly under his perusal, realizing that she had been babbling on to a man who likely had little interest at all in what was going on inside her head. 

She cleared her throat in obvious discomfort and returned her gaze to the pages. She began to read and Gabriel relaxed, sinking back against the pillows as he let her voice wash over him. 

***

For weeks Devonny read to Gabriel while he was ordered to bed rest. But she did not seek any further personal insight from her employer. She deftly skirted his questions or any attempts at conversation. Distance, she reminded herself as she made way down the hall and knocked lightly upon his bedroom door. A deep disgruntled growl was the only answer she received. 

Devonny entered his bedroom the following morning with a basin of steaming water in her hands and a white towel draped over her shoulder. 

Blinking away sleep as she placed the basin upon his nightstand, Gabriel pushed himself to sitting position, warily. "Good morning," he grumbled as Devonny moved to fling open the curtains, letting light pour into the room. He winced at the sudden flood of brightness. 

She barely looked at him at she retrieved his dressing jacket from the back of the arm chair where she usually sat and handed it to him. He shrugged into it, belting it around his torso. In the past couple weeks his ribs had begun to heel nicely 

"You sir," she said glancing at him, "are desperately in need of a shave." 

She came to stand at the bedside. "May I?" 

Gabriel cleared his throat and nodded. "Of course." 

Devonny stepped close and carefully took his firm jaw in her palm. 

His finely sculpted lips curved upwards in a smile as he gazed up at her but she avoided his eyes, her face serious as she considered the week's growth on his cheeks. It had grown past prickliness to form a downy covering over his cheeks. 

His changeling gaze was on her, amusement evident in their depths. 

But she would not look at him as she whipped the shaving soap into a into a lather. "How are you feeling today?" she asked lightly. "How are your ribs?" 

He shifted, as though testing his movement. "They're healing. I should be up and about in no time." 

She glanced at him skeptically. "Your words or Doctor Lenox's?" 

Gabriel shrugged. "Doctor Lenox said it may take four to six weeks for them to heal completely. It will be exactly four weeks tomorrow." 

"Hm," Devonny mused and Gabriel tilted his head upward so that she could lather his cheeks and neck, occasionally dipping the brush to gather more foamy suds. 

Gabriel gaze up at her studious expression. "Where did you learn to do this?" 

"Shhh," she hushed him as the dipped a towel into the steaming basin of water and wrung it out before wrapping it around his face and neck. She went about stropping the razor, periodically examining the edge. "As for your question," she answered smoothly. "Some of Madam Pomfrey's more 'prestigious' clients received some additional pampering." 

Gabriel raised one dark eyebrow at her above the towel. 

It was how she first met Rochard but she kept that bit of information to herself. 

When she had finished stropping the razor's blade, she unwrapped the towel from around his face and placed a dry one around his neck. She brushed her fingers against his chin to tilt his face upward. 

"Are you sure—" Gabriel begin but she cut him off with a light tsking sound. 

"Shh, Mr. Davenport, sir," she chided. "We wouldn't want me to have an accident would we?" She brought the razor to his cheek. "I've done you enough injury, don't you think?" 

Gabriel made a low noise in the back of his throat but kept still. 

Devonny went to work deftly scraping the hair from his face. His eyes were ever on her face but she ignored him, keeping her attentions on the task at hand. 

When she had finished, she wiped the excess lather and filings from his face and neck before smoothing a bit of aftershave salve over his skin. 

He studied her as she began gathering up the shaving supplies. "I was thinking that perhaps we could try something different tonight," he began and watched one ebony brow wing upwards. "I was thinking perhaps we could read some Phillis Wheatley?"

Devonny paused mid-task briefly, and then continued wiping down the razor. "I can't tonight. I'm unavailable, but perhaps Moira would sit and read with you." 

"Unavailable?" His brow furrowed. Did she truly think she was interchangeable with Moira, or anyone else for that matter? He winced inwardly at his tone but he could not account for his sudden distress. Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to being in her company at length. The idea of being deprived of that company even for a night unnerved him. 

A twinge of irritation flitted across her lovely features. "Try as I might, Gabriel, I am not always readily at your disposal. I have a social gathering tonight." 

Gabriel felt a swell of discomfort at the notion. "With Mister Edmondson?"

Devonny stared at him. What was he asking her? "Of course, I'm sure Teddy will be there."

Teddy. Not Mister Edmondson, or Theodore, but Teddy. Gabriel smiled tightly. "Another time then. I hope you have a wonderful evening." 

Devonny eyed him warily. "I hope so to." She gathered up the items. "Goodbye, Gabriel."

"Goodbye," he echoed somewhat hollowly. 

Devonny closed the door softly behind her letting out a heavy sigh. If she were honest with herself, she'd rather spend her evening with him than anywhere else in the world. But that was a habit she was determined to break. 

Squaring her shoulders, she made her way down the hall only to be confronted by the sight Eli leaning against the corridor wall as though he had been waiting for her. She sighed inwardly. Of course he was waiting for her. 

He was immaculately dressed as always, his sun kissed blonde waves coaxed back from his handsome yet somber face. He straightened away from the wall and came to stand before her. "Devonny." His voice was low. He looked as uncertain as she had ever seen him and it momentarily caused a flutter of remorse for her coolness and avoidance of him. 

His vibrant gaze searched her impassive face as though searching for some sign that she was not completely lost to him. Finding none, he sighed. "How long are you going to be angry with me?" She attempted to sidestep him, be he smoothly moved to block her path. "How long are you going to avoid me?" 

Devonny sighed, finally allowing her eyes to rest on his face. He looked stricken, truly, but she could not let herself be swayed. "Elijah, I'm no longer angry with you...perhaps I never was. I was hurt." She watched his lips thin and he winced. "But I am avoiding you," she continued. She shrugged. "I want just everything to be as it should be. That way, no one gets hurt." 

Eli's brow furrowed. "As it should be? Devonny, what are you talking about?" 

"I mean that I know my place, and you are certain of you yours. That way things remain..." she paused considering her words prudently. "Uncomplicated."

"Blast it, Devonny!" he raked a rough hand through his hair. "It's already complicated but that's beside the point." He stared at her, his expression earnest. "I miss my friend. I miss your companionship. I miss you, Devonny."

Devonny felt her heart seize painfully, an uncomfortable sensation that was growing all to frequent and familiar for her own liking. She brushed by him unable to bear his expression. 

He called out to her, causing her to halt in her steps. He watched her back tense but she did not turn her face to him. "You know, I have never seen my brother unhorsed before. Never. How fortunate that his unhappy accident should find him lucky enough to find you ever at his bedside nursing him back to health."

He the rise and fall of her shoulders and heard her soft sigh. But she said nothing to him, and continued on down the hall. 

***

The mood was jovial in the West's parlor. Devonny sat perched on the edge of and armchair smiling brightly as she listened to the piano and the lovely voice accompanying it. 

Elizabeth sat upon the piano bench, her lilac colored gown spread around her as her fingers drifted deftly over the keys and her voice flowed like honey from her lips. She was watched with smiles and open adoration. Prince Adams was a lucky man. He was marrying their golden girl and their love was there for all to see. 

Devonny wondered at that love; to be able to love so openly with the blessings and support of those all around them.

Teddy was before her, his hand extended. "You look as though you could use some fresh air, my lady." 

She smiled at him gratefully, slipping her into his and allowed him to tug her gently to her feet. 

Teddy led her from the room and together they slipped out onto the large portico jutting from the back of the house. 

"You looked tired from all that smiling and posturing." He grinned at her, leaning against the rail. 

She joined him. "I was not posturing. I am happy."

Teddy chuckled. "Your eyes say differently." 

Devonny lifted a brow and turned to face him in the flickering torch light that lit the portico. "My eyes, you say?" 

Teddy regarded her silently for a moment, his eyes tracing over his features. "You smile, laugh and charm everyone out of their wits but they don't see it."

"See what?" Suddenly serious, Devonny returned his intent gaze as he lifted his hand to touch the pearl bauble hanging from her earlobe before tracing one fingertip lightly along the curve of her jaw line. 

He cocked his head, looking into her face. "That lost, anguished look. Charming as you are, there is always that look in your eyes." 

Devonny blinked at him before averting her gaze, looking out into the darkness instead. 

"I would see you happy, Devonny," he said, a stern note to his voice. 

She could think of no reply to give him. 

He reached out and gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently turning her face to him. His voice was low. "Marry me."

He watched her eyes widen in shock. "Marry?" she breathed. 

Teddy grinned at her shock. He ran his thumb over her chin. "Yes. Marry me." 

Devonny blinked rapidly at him. "But you don't want to marry."

Teddy chuckled once more. "Perhaps not. But should I find myself compelled to move in that direction, I can think of no better match for me that you." His hand moved to cup her face. "You are smart, beautiful, kind and wonderfully cheeky. I think we could get on quite well together."

He released her suddenly to delve into his breast pocket. He drew forth a large garnet and diamond ring that twinkled in the flickering light. "Perhaps I could banish that sad look from your eyes. What do you say, my darling girl?"

Devonny's breath caught in her throat and she took a small stumbling step back from him. She pressed her hand to her breast, her heartbeat thumping in her ears. "Oh God, Teddy." 

He cocked his head quizzically at her movement. "I thought this is what you wanted from all this."

Devonny stared at him. Of course, he was right. This was what she had hoped for. But she could not bring herself to affirm that. Her mind screamed, 'Say yes you dolt! Say yes you stupid girl!' But she could say nothing. She simply continued to stare wide eyed at him. 

Teddy smiled, slipping the ring back into his pocket. "I can see that I've stunned you into silence." He came toward her. "Perhaps I should not have surprised you in such a manner." He took her face between his hands. "Think of it. You do not have to have to answer now or even tomorrow. But think of it." He looked down into her face. She nodded mutely and he pressed a kiss to her brow. "Let's return to the party, shall we?"

She nodded once more and allowed him to lead her back to the parlor.

***

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the head of the table, testing the bandages that bound his chest beneath the waistcoat and jacket. He sipped his glass of wine, only half listening to the conversation tittering about him. 

It was the first social gathering the Davenports had hosted since Gabriel's injury. Their thirty guests ate and drank good naturedly while Gabriel had trouble keeping his thoughts focused on any attempts at conversation. 

Abigail Harding, at his right, tutted in sympathy. "Poor dear, you must be too pained to speak." 

Gabriel simply smiled tightly at her before allowing the smile to slide from his face. 

Following dinner, the party withdrew to the parlor where Gabriel stood barely listening to the inane chatter. He suppressed a groan when Isabella Pembrose sidled up next to him, smiling behind a crystal glass of punch. Would there be no end to this night?

"What do you want, Isabella?" He growled, his fingers tightening around his own glass. There was once a time when he had wanted nothing more in this world than the dark haired woman standing next to him. The Pembrose and Davenport family had been close for generations. A match had been made between Gabriel, the oldest Davenport son, and the Pembrose's only daughter much to the pleasure of both families when both were but children. When the engagement was abruptly cut off there had been much speculation about the cause but nothing was ever said by the Pembroses or Gabriel Davenport. In time, even the gossips grew tired of the tightlipped Pembrose and Davenports, and it was soon forgotten. 

However, that did not stop the curious glances in their direction. "Now now, Gabriel," Isabella cooed. "So gruff a tone. The pain of your injury must be getting to you."

"I'm fine," Gabriel stated stiffly, giving her a baleful glare. But Isabella was not so easily deterred. She smiled at him and nodded to Abigail Harding, sitting with her mother and casting them anxious looks. "She'll make you a fine wife, Gabe. Why don't you just ask her already? What's taking you so long?"

Gabriel's voice was smooth but icy. "Why don't you mind your own damn business, Isabella, hm?" 

Isabella pouted. "So sour, Gabriel. It's not like you." 

Gabriel fixed her with a baleful look. "And how would you know what is or is not like me, Isabella? We are not friends, nor even amicable acquaintances." 

"I but wanted to inquire after your health, Gabriel," she insisted. 

"Well, now you have inquired." Gabriel took a sip of his brandy. "Now go away." 

Isabella shrugged lightly, undeterred. "I met that lovely young nigra girl in your a while back while riding with Marcus and Andre." She watched Gabriel Davenport stiffen and his handsome face smoothed to an expression of indifference. "She's such a pretty little thing. Now how long has she been your household?"

Gabriel shifted and moved smoothly so that his back was to the other inhabitants of the room. Isabella had to force herself not to flee at the fearful expression that darkened his features. "Do not dare speak of her. Did Rochard put you up to this? Did he ask you to inquire after her?" 

Isabella's dark finely arched brows lifted in genuine surprise and she stared at him in wonder. "So she does mean something to you," she breathed and let out a tinkling laugh. "My goodness, Andre was right. And I was certain that she was Elijah's." She cocked her head, a malicious smile slid over her lips. "Or perhaps you both share her, lucky girl. I remember well how adept a lover you can be." 

Gabriel had never in his life felt moved to strike a woman but Isabella was testing him sorely now. "Say one more word, Isabella, and I will throw you bodily from my home" he growled, rage rippling through his voice. "And no one will blame me if I reveal the circumstances of our canceled engagement." 

That growled threat caused the color to drain from her face. "You wouldn't." 

"I would," Gabriel sneered. "And you should reconsider the company you keep." 

Isabella swallowed thickly and lifted her chin. "If you will excuse me," she murmured imperiously. She skirted around him went to join her brother, chatting with Andrew Roetke across the room.

Gabriel strode from the room, ignoring the questioning looks that followed him. 

***

Devonny slipped into the Kedleston hall through the kitchens, bleary eyed. She mentally berated herself for her foolishness. For once, why could she not do what her head told her? Instead she felt enslaved to that organ beating painfully behind her ribcage. Thank goodness, Teddy did not expect an immediate answer from her. She might have done something incredibly stupid. 

She sank into a chair at the kitchen table lifelessly, truly feeling every bit of that lost anguish that Teddy had said he'd seen in her eyes. She could not truly bear to think of what refusing Teddy might mean. She would be forced to watch Gabriel marry and have children with some woman of his choosing while she lived a loveless and solitary life. It would break her. Life would not be worth living. But could she love Teddy, when her heart was so fixedly set on another? What came of a life of denying one's feelings? 

She crossed her arms on the table in front of her and laid her head down, sobbing as she listened to the sound of the Davenport's party not far away. 

At sound of the kitchen door creaking open, Devonny lifted her head to see a superbly dressed young woman standing in the doorway. 




Devonny Ch. 12



Devonny recognized the exquisitely lovely face and shiny raven curls immediately. It was the young woman she had met riding with Rochard that day not to long ago. 

The young woman smiled sweetly, but Devonny did not miss that the smile did not reach her eyes. "I thought I might find you in here," she drawled, stepping into the room. She eyed Devonny closely. "My, my, you've been crying," her tone sympathetic. "Is everything alright?"

Devonny eyed the other woman warily, dapping at her eyes with a white kerchief. She rose to her feet. "I'm alright. Was there something I could do for you?"

"Oh no," Isabella declared sweetly. "I had thought that there was something that I could do for you. Just a word of advice."

Devonny's brows drew together in consternation.

Isabella stepped further into the room. "Be careful of Gabriel Davenport, my dear. He has a way of making you feel wonderful, like you're the only woman in the world for him, only to cast you aside on a whim. Do not let him into your heart."

Devonny stared at her. "How would you know anything of it?"

Isabella lifted her chin, her eyes watering slightly. "We were to be married once. We had been promised to each other as children and we had grown to love each other..." her voice cracked and she cleared her throat delicately. "I gave myself to him and he cast me aside as though I were nothing, less than nothing."

Devonny's heart sank into the pit of her stomach, but she could not stop herself from asking. "And what does any of that have to do with me?"

Isabella smiled sadly. "If he could do such a thing to me—his future wife—consider what he might do with a pretty young girl like yourself with no place in the world." 

It was as though she had been struck, and she gripped the back of the chair to steady herself. Devonny could scarcely breathe. 

"Goodnight, my dear," Isabella cooed. "Remember what I've told you." And she was gone with a swish of her skirts. 

Devonny did not know how long she stood rooted to that spot after the door swung closed behind Isabella. After all, what did it even matter anymore?