Devonny Ch. 02

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An Impossible Romance in Post-Abolition Victorian London.
6.2k words
4.71
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Part 2 of the 12 part series

Updated 10/11/2022
Created 08/02/2009
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theDuskyGirl
theDuskyGirl
1,104 Followers

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.

theDuskyGirl
theDuskyGirl
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