Surrender The Night (27 page)

With a ferocious grin that Katrina would have sworn was gleeful, he caught Davie’s extended arm and pulled it up behind his back. Davie’s grunt of pain only made him twist harder.

“Cry quarter, Cornishman,” Devon growled.

Davie’s reply was a sharp elbow into Devon’s tender abdomen. Devon winced but gave such a furious tug on Davie’s arm that the man fell to his knees with a cry of pain. Katrina closed her eyes, expecting to hear cracking bone. When the sound didn’t come, she looked again. She slumped with relief to see Devon releasing Davie. Davie cradled his strained shoulder and stayed on his knees, his face red with exertion and, doubtless, Katrina realized, humiliation.

Devon stepped away from him and cast a challenging look about the room. “Does anyone else want to test a nobleman’s mettle?” His disdainful half smile was refined by ten generations of blue bloods. Katrina wanted to slap it off his face, so she knew exactly how the others would react.

When two muscular miners stepped forward, she couldn’t bear it. She ran behind the bar and snatched up a bottle of whiskey, then ran back around to where Devon stood.

He sent her a surprised but warning glance. ‘ ‘Thanks, Kat, but I don’t need your help. Now step aside, like a good girl.” He reached out to push her out of danger.

She slapped his hand away and muttered, “Well, you’re getting my help, anyway. Sorry, Devon.” And she brought the bottle down, hard, on the back of his head. The glass shattered, spraying them both with whiskey.

His disbelieving eyes closed. He slumped. She caught him in her arms but couldn’t bear his weight and began to fall backward. “Billy,” she cried.

Billy was there in an instant to heft Devon over his shoulders. “I’ve got him, lass. He’ll not thank you when he wakes, you know, despite the fact that you doubtless spared him worse pain.”

“I know.” Katrina sent an apologetic shrug to the watching Cornishmen. She saw several admiring grins, but more disappointed scowls. “Sorry to cheat you of your entertainment, boys, but women will be women, too, you know.”

“Aye,” Jack growled hoarsely. “Interferin’ busybodies. Ye didn’t care when he was about to choke
me.”
He rubbed at his raw throat.

Katrina responded coolly. “I  think I’ve made my opinion of your . . . attentions clear.” She held the door for Billy to carry Devon out. She closed it behind them with a sigh of relief. She looked about.

“Where’s your carriage?”

“Over there.” Billy pointed to where a boy guarded the restive grays hooked to a curricle.

Katrina helped arrange Devon in the seat, but he kept falling and Billy couldn’t hold him and drive. She shared a wry glance with Billy, lifted her skirts, and climbed in beside Devon to hold him in her arms.

With the toss of a coin to the boy and a click of his tongue, Billy got them under way. They’d not gone far up the road leading to Redruth before Devon groaned and stirred against Katrina’s bosom. Immediately she stopped her surreptitious stroking of his hair and tried to help him sit up.

His eyes opened and blinked at her. With a loud groan he subsided back into her arms. “If I hadn’t awakened so pleasantly, I swear I’d beat you, Kat,” he muttered into her right breast. His arms came up to clasp her tightly about the waist.

She tried to pry him away, but he was fully conscious, and fully determined to take advantage of their position. “I’d have thought you’d had enough of beating for one day. Neither Jack nor Davie make pretty sights.”

Devon gingerly touched the cut above his eye. ‘ ‘Nor do I, doubtless,” He tilted his head back on her shoulder and cast her a winsome smile. “Do you want to kiss it and make it better?”

“No, but I might consider giving you a matched set,” she answered swee
tly.

He rubbed the back of his head. “Somehow I don’t doubt you.” But his tone was more wry than angry, and Katrina couldn’t smother a smile.

“You deserved it. And you really should thank me, you know. Had you stayed much longer, you’d have broken bones instead of a sore head.”

“And you can’t bear to see my manly countenance ruined?” he asked, with so much the air of a hopeful little boy that this time she couldn’t smother a giggle.

“Maybe I don’t want to see your manly countenance, period,” she said, striving for dignity.

He tweaked her lofty nose with a finger. “That’s fine with me. The manly part I really want to show you has nothing to do with my face.” He rubbed at her rosy cheeks with his fingertip. “Ah, Kat, I’m so happy to be with you again that I don’t even care my head’s aching like the very devil.”

He groaned and rubbed his forehead back and forth on her shoulder. Instantly her embarrassment changed to concern. She felt his brow. He seemed a bit warm.

“Take Miss Lawson home first, Billy.” When Katrina protested, Devon said, “I’ll not have you walk alone so late. It will be dark soon.”

When Billy jerked to a stop before John’s gate twenty minutes later, Devon roused enough to slump against Billy’s shoulder. He waved a listless hand. “Bye, heartless girl. Billy can treat my wounds as well as you, doubtless.”

Katrina stepped down and forced herself to turn away. Then she spun back around and snapped, “Oh, very well. Come down. Since I caused one of your wounds, it’s the least I can do.”

A quick, triumphant flash of teeth warned her his words were a sham, but when he stepped gingerly down and groaned in pain, she still went to help support him. As Billy sniffed the air she sighed.

“You too, Billy. I’ll see if Rachel has enough.” One meal, as low as their stores were, would probably make little difference, she reasoned. Besides, it would do Devon good to see how the majority of the English lived. She cast both men, who towered above her, a chiding glance as she led the way into the cottage. “But don’t think you fool me for a minute.” She hid a smile as they both tried to look angelic. Katrina hurried into the kitchen, where Ellie and Rachel bustled about, setting out crockery.

“Good even’ to you both,” Katrina said. “Rachel, may we have two guests for dinner?”

Rachel turned from stirring the kettle. Her eyes widened when she saw Devon and Billy peeking into the kitchen behind Katrina. She paused, then smiled into Katrina’s pleading gaze.

“Sure, lass. Et’s a good time, for we’ve fresh pilchards to sup on. John brought them home. One of hes men repaaid hem for a loan.” She commanded the two newcomers, “Set ’ee down. We’ll be ready soon.”

Devon sat near the middle of the bench, where Katrina indicated. Billy sat one space down. He stared at Ellie so intently that she blushed and fidgeted with her cap. Katrina looked into the kettle bubbling over the hearth. She sighed in relief. Tumip-and-potato soup. At least it wasn’t fish-head broth. She tried to picture Devon eating what had become one of their staples, but her mind boggled.

Katrina walked to the pantry and fetched an old, clean rag. She wet it in the water Rachel had drawn from the well and went to Devon. He lifted his face to her ministrations with an expectant smile, but Katrina was brisk. She was careful not to show her own mixed emotions at the touch of his warm skin as she swabbed at his various cuts until the bleeding stopped.

He winced at a particularly brusque touch. ‘ ‘Maybe I should have let Billy doctor me, after all.”

“Maybe you should have,” Katrina agreed.

Both of the Tonkin women peered at Devon, but Katrina knew they were too polite to ask what had happened. She rinsed the cloth and spread it over the line hanging in the dairy, then returned to the kitchen to set the table.

Taking two extra plates from the cupboard, Katrina asked, “Where are John and Jimmy?”

Ellie, who was dipping broth into a large crock, answered. “They’re fixing Nanny’s pen.” She exchanged a serious look with Katrina.

Katrina nodded. She didn’t need to be told how important that task was. Since John had sold the cow, Nanny the goat was the only source of milk they had. Ellie turned, holding the hot container of broth by its handles.

Billy stood. “Here, lass. That’s too heavy for a mite like ye.” Billy admired Ellie’s slim figure, then carefully took the crock from her to set it on the table. Their hands brushed together. Their eyes met for a long moment before Ellie reluctantly turned away to help her mother chop the onion to mix with the sliced pilchards.

Katrina watched the pair, frowning. She didn’t think John would approve of Billy’s suit. He wanted an educated, affluent man for his daughter, preferably a Cornishman. Devon, too, watched them, a smile playing about his lips. When he saw Katrina’s concern, he lifted an eyebrow at her as if to say, So what? She turned away and went to the back door to call Jimmy and John.

The strong scent of the fish wafted over the table as Rachel proudly set the pilchards before Devon. Katrina sat down on the bench in time to see Devon’s nostrils quiver. She sent him a warning look. If he turned up his lordly nose to a single bite, she’d never forgive him.

John and Jimmy tromped into the room. They both stopped dead at sight of the visitors. John’s eyes narrowed in dislike, but when he met Katrina’s pleading look, he sighed and, without a word, went to wash his hands. Jimmy’s scowl, however, only deepened as he saw Devon sitting in his usual place.

John nudged him. “Wash up, boy.” Jimmy complied, but after he’d dried his hands, he swaggered to the table and stood over Devon.

“You’re in my spot,” he said.

Devon rose immediately. “I’m sorry. Where shall I sit?”

Jimmy’s “You can ride to town on my knife, for all I care,” was fortunately muffled by Rachel’s loud comment.

“You staay there, my lord. Jimmy, you set next to Robert and let Katrina set by hes lordshep.”

Obediently, Devon sat back down. But from the puzzled look he sent Jimmy, Katrina figured that he, too, had heard Jimmy’s aside. Jimmy hesitated.

Robert bounced up and down on his seat. ‘ ‘Jimmy, I found the biggest frog today! After supper I’ll show it to you.” Jimmy’s hostile face relaxed a bit as he went to sit besi
de his little brother, opposite Devon and Katrina.

John sat at one end of the bench, on Devon’s other side. Rachel sat on the adjacent bench, next to Ellie. Billy sat opposite her, next to Katrina.

‘
‘Would you like to lead the blessing, my lord?’ ’ John asked.

Katrina felt Devon shuffle his feet, but he replied politely, “Certainly, if you wish.” He bowed his sun-streaked head. His hair was neat again, for he’d tied it back before entering the cottage. “Lord, for what we are about to receive, make us truly thankful. Teach us to be as generous with one another as you are with us. Amen.” John nodded approvingly and began to ladle out soup.

Devon raised his head and smiled into Katrina’s suspicious eyes. She sniffed, conveying her opinion of him invoking the Lord to further his own selfish ends.

“That’s an appropriate prayer, Devon. It will surely take divine intervention to teach you generosity,” she hissed into his ear.

“You misjudge me yet again,” he whispered back. “I’ve always wanted to be generous to you, but you’ve never let me.”

When Jimmy turned his head toward them as if straining to hear, Katrina bit her lip over another retort and took a sip of soup. She watched as Devon took a dollop. He held the strong-tasting turnip soup in his mouth for a second, a strange look on his face, then swallowed quickly. Katrina wondered if the Earl of Brookstone had ever tasted a turnip in his life.

He sent Rachel a warm smile. “Delicious.” He took another bigger sip and swallowed it even faster. She noticed that he barely chewed the chopped turnips and potatoes, and knew he found every bite repugnant.

Admiration for his courtesy nudged some of Katrina’s resentment aside. One could say many things about Devon Cavanaugh, but he was always a gentleman, even to those he considered far beneath his station. Still, she couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Have you heard the saying, my lord, that the devil never comes into Cornwall for fear of being made into a pie?” Katrina took a composed sip of her own broth, smiling inwardly when Devon choked on a bite of turnip.

He coughed discreetly into his napkin, then cleared his throat. “I hope you’ve no pastry handy. I’ve already been tenderized today; I’d as soon not be roasted as well.” He emphasized the
roasted,
but his arch look make it plain he didn’t mind her teasing.

Katrina couldn’t smother a giggle. Billy snorted into his soup. When the others looked confused at the joke, Katrina explained, “My lord is known in some quarters as Demon Devon.” This drew a smile from John, Rachel, and Ellie, but Jimmy nodded sourly.

“That don’t surprise me,” he muttered.

Devon sent him another puzzled look, obviously wondering what he’d done to stir the lad’s resentment. Katrina went on quickly, ‘ ‘In easier times, if we still had flour, we’d be eating pilchard pie. We call it starry-gazy pie because we cook the fish whole in pastry, with its head poking through the crust. We’d have put it in pride of place before you, my lord. Wouldn’t it have whetted your appetite to have it stare at you as you cut into it?”

Tilting her bowl to scoop up the last drop of soup, Katrina pretended not to see Rachel’s surprise. She felt Devon’s needle-sharp stare poking her.

“Oh, indubitably,” was all he said, however. He, too, swallowed his last drop of soup, but he couldn’t disguise a tiny sigh of relief as he was able to push his empty bowl away. Rachel immediately put a large helping of pilchards upon his plate, then served Billy and everyone else.