Tutoring Miss Molly (11 page)

A shiver of panic shot through him, churning his stomach.

“What…secret?” he asked in a small voice.

“The one that will destroy you.”

Sweat beaded upon his upper lip. The cravat felt as if it had tightened around his throat.

Audrey leaned against him, her fingers trailing along his cheek. “I want her dead.”

A shuffle came from the hallway. Yvette’s form swiftly walked past the doorway.

“She heard us,” he whispered.

“I will deal with our French pigeon.”

* * * *

Molly rose from the tub and dried herself. Opening the wardrobe doors, she stood staring at the elaborate gowns with hundreds of buttons lining the back. She sighed. “I miss my simple dresses.”

Pulling out an elegant evening gown of gold satin—trimmed in swansdown with tassels of silk—she awkwardly stepped into the high-waist dress. She reached around to hook some of the buttons when she heard the door open and close.

“Yvette, could you please do me up?” Molly asked.

Facing the window, Molly’s mind wandered while sure hands worked their way up her gown.

“Do you think Devlin likes to be sad?” Molly asked. “He certainly has everything a man could wish for. Title, wealth, looks.”

When no answer came, she continued, “He could have any lady he chooses. I only wish…I only wish he would desire me. I guess I am foolish to think he would find a simple farmer like me appealing.”

When the last button slipped into place, she ran her hands down the silky fabric of her skirt. “There, how do I look?” She twirled.

In a tailored dark blue suit, Devlin boldly stared at her with mischievous eyes.

“I—I didn’t know you were there.”

“Obviously.” He smiled, his dimples deepening.

Picking up her hand, he kissed it. “You look ravishing,” he said, his tone as smooth as the satin gown she wore.

She closed her mouth and accepted Devlin’s arm for escort. They walked through the manor then outside, nodding to the few who ventured out into the early evening.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“It’s a secret,” he answered. The corner of his lip lifted, his gaze remaining forward.

The stars twinkled above. The moonlight peeked through a transparent cloud. A distant bellow made Molly jump. She edged closer to her companion. “What was that?”

Devlin chuckled under his breath. “That is the elephant my father had shipped over from Africa.”

“I remember seeing an unusually large animal when I first arrived. Is that the elephant?”

“Yes, but not to worry. He is in a stall we built especially for him.”

“May I see this elephant later?”

“You are not afraid?”

“I am, but my curiosity is greater.”

“Ah yes, your curious mind. I’d wager it has gotten you into trouble in the past.”

Heat rose to her cheeks as she remembered holding onto his mother’s portrait.

His warm fingers entwined with hers, and he rubbed the pad of his thumb on the inside of her palm. “I welcome your curiosity. It will make you a better lover.” He placed a light kiss on her lips. “I wanted to talk to you about earlier on.”

Molly’s mind was in a haze from the moment his thumb caressed her hand, and his lips touched hers.

She tried to focus on what he was saying but her gaze went back to his lips—so beautiful, wide and soft. “I do not want to talk. I want to kiss,” she said and instantly wished she could take it back. So much for remaining angry with him.

A glint of humor flickered in his gray eyes. “How could I resist such a command, especially when you taste like apples?” Snaking his arms around her waist, he pulled her against his hard body. Reclaiming her lips, he kissed her again, the delicious sensation singing through her veins. Devlin groaned, and the sound rumbled through her mouth, arousing her senses. She placed her hands around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest, wanting to get closer. Needing to be closer.

He abruptly pushed her away.

She tried to shade the hurt from her eyes, but knew it was impossible. Her heart could not hide so easily. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he said and shoved his hand through his hair in frustration. “I just…Let’s just keep to your lessons.”

“Do courtesans not kiss?”

“No! Yes.” He turned his back on her, his eyes tormented. “There will be no more kissing.”

“But—”

“Look, when you are someone’s courtesan you can kiss…kiss him all you want,” he snarled. “Come, our supper awaits.”

His hand tightened in hers, and he almost dragged her down the cobblestone path. They rounded a fountain with a marble cherub in the middle.

“We are here,” Devlin pronounced.

Overlooking an oval pond with lily pads sat a table and two chairs with candles flickering in the light evening breeze.

“It’s beautiful,” Molly exclaimed, her hurt feelings melting.

Devlin pulled the chair out for Molly and she sat, her eyes roaming over the delicious treats that covered a crisp white tablecloth. A goose with apples and prunes lined a silver tray, the spicy aroma made her mouth water. An assortment of candied fruit surrounded a bowl of white soup.

Devlin picked up a strawberry and held it before Molly’s mouth. Licking her lips, she opened her mouth and took a bite. The tart juices tickled her tongue.

“Did you enjoy Yvette?”

The strawberry stuck in her throat, and she coughed. Her eyes moistened. “I—I did, thank you.”

“I am glad. She is a skilled lover with men and women.”

“You ordered her to please me?”

“I gave her permission to entice you.” Devlin picked up a crystal glass of red wine and handed it to her.

Molly accepted and slowly sipped the fragrant liquid, her throat still raw from the strawberry.

“How did you find it?”

“The wine is lovely, thank you.”

“No, I meant having a woman caress you.”

“Oh. I found it strange at first, but very enjoyable.” Molly used her spoon to stir the soup of veal, milk and almonds. She glanced up to find Devlin intently studying her, his expression one of approval.

She shifted in her seat. “Why do you look at me so?”

“I like to look at beautiful things.”

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat and placed her hands on her lap. “Then perhaps we can make love tonight?”

“Molly, I…” Devlin frowned, his attention shifted to the shadowed tree line.

“What is amiss?” she asked.

He pushed to his feet.

An arrow whizzed past Molly’s head and into his shoulder.

“Argh!”

Within a second, he was next to Molly, pulling her down from the chair.

“What is happening?”

“Stay down!” He covered her with most of his body, an arrow sticking out of his shoulder blade. Beneath his jacket, blood soaked his white crisp shirt.

“You’ve been hurt!”

“It is not bad. We need to get you inside. I cannot protect you out here.”

Gingerly rising, Devlin held Molly close as they rushed back inside the manor. A stir of activity focused on them when they burst through the doors. A man who looked to be an older brother of Devlin rushed over, lines of worry marring his handsome face. “Good lord, Son. What happened?”

 Molly stepped out of the way when his father ducked under Devlin’s good shoulder while shouting orders to his servants.

A footman pushed past her, and Molly stood to the side. She wrung her hands, watching them take Devlin upstairs, his face as pale as the moon.

Kenneth rushed over and enfolded her into his arms. “Are you all right, my dear?”

“Yes, I am fine.”

“Thank goodness for that. When I saw you come in with blood smeared over your lovely gown, I thought something had happened to you.”

Molly glanced down at her ruined gown, blood soaked the gold satin and lace while one of her hands was sticky, covered in Devlin’s life force. The metallic scent of blood made her stomach turn with queasiness. She trembled, all warmth having left her body.

Everyone glared at her with accusation in their eyes. Their voices whispered in muffled tones. Her heart thumped in her ears like loud drums. She shook her head, unable to talk. Why are they looking at her that way?

“Molly…Molly...” Kenneth’s voice echoed in the distance before everything went black.

Chapter Nine

Muted sunrays filtered into the room and a gentle, warm breeze swayed the ivory bed curtains, stirring Molly awake. Her eyelashes flittered open and she raised her arms, stretching her sleepy muscles. The smile on her face faded when memories of last night invaded her morning.

Warm oozing blood.

Devlin’s blood had been all over her.

She inspected her hands but they were clean. Even her nightgown smelled sweet, mocking her into thinking it was all a nightmare. But she knew better.

Someone had tried to kill Devlin!

Or was it her they tried to murder?

The arrow just missed her before finding a mark in Devlin’s shoulder. Was it just a hunting accident? Who would stalk around in the shadows and hunt at nighttime?

Shaking her head, she tried to clear it. She must dress and go to Devlin.

Opening her wardrobe, Molly sighed with frustration. What dress could she wear that did not involve another person to help? How did ladies constantly rely on a maid to simply dress? Pulling out a blue riding habit, Molly quickly changed. It was not exactly fashionable for morning attire, but she was in a hurry.

She knocked on the door opposite to her room. It opened with a whoosh. The duke blocked the entrance, his face held a shadow of a beard, his square jaw line visibly tense.

“Your Grace,” Molly curtsied. “How is your son?”

“He will live,” the duke sharply answered.

“May—may I see him?”

“He is resting, and is in no need of your company.”  He stepped out into the hallway, causing Molly to retreat backward.

“I can see to his needs, Your Grace.”

“Lady Audrey is with him and quite capable of handling the needs of my son.”

“I see.” Molly glanced down at her hands.

The duke’s voice softened, “Look, why don’t you go downstairs to breakfast. My son is in good hands.”

Nodding, Molly replied, “Yes, I suppose he is.”