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.