Chapter Four
Perran Castle
The wardrobe containing all of the garments the pirates had given her was a massive piece of furniture with a polished silver mirror on the inside of one of the doors. As Genevieve put on the third dress that morning, she paused to look at herself in the mirror.
The dress was yellow, a silk garment that clung to her like the skin of a grape. There was beautiful embroidery around the neckline, the hem of the sleeves, and the hem of the skirt, including semi-precious stones that glittered in the light. In truth, it was a spectacular gown and one that she admired a great deal. Perhaps she would wear it this day, because it made her feel rather pretty.
Genevieve had no idea why she should want to feel pretty. This day was like any other day, a day of captivity where pirates held her against her will. But since her conversation with Lucifer last night, she was coming to see that being compliant and pleasant was the tactic to take with him. He’d even agreed to consider allowing her to buy her freedom, meaning he wouldn’t sell her. She could buy herself. But buying her freedom left her with the same problem – where to go once she was free so that de Noble and her father couldn’t find her.
In fact, she’d lain awake for a good portion of the night thinking about it. Once she bought her freedom, and Vivienne’s freedom, she would have to go somewhere other than her father’s properties in Ireland or in Plymouth. Her mother was long dead, but she had an aunt that lived far to the north near Carlisle. Perhaps she and Vivienne could go there and live with the woman, far away from her father and far away from the old man who wanted to be her husband. Genevieve had decided that not only would she earn enough money to buy her freedom, but also enough to pay for passage to Carlisle to start a new life.
Far away from the pirate with eyes that were starting to affect her.
She could admit it now, but it was a reluctant admission… somehow, during the course of the evening, it seemed to her that Lucifer appeared handsome. More handsome than she’d initially realized. He’d even smiled, just once, and he had a devastating smile of straight, white teeth and big dimples in his weathered cheeks. It had been enough to flutter her heart. But then she’d felt like a fool about it, up to and including the end of the meal when Lucifer and two other men had escorted her and Vivienne back to their cage. Genevieve’s last vision of the night had been the expression on Lucifer’s face when he’d shut her in for the night.
Could it have been… warmth?
After that, confusion reigned. It was madness even to consider that the man had warmth in him. How could she consider such a thing about her captor? But the truth was that Lucifer really wasn’t her captor; it was Constantine le Brecque. She’d only really seen Lucifer at the beginning of her captivity and then again yesterday. He hadn’t really been holding her hostage; it had been others. But Lucifer was taking charge of her captivity now. She was glad, for if the man could fall to her charms, then perhaps all of this would work out, after all. Last evening’s conversation with him gave her hope for the first time in a month.
Hope for real freedom.
Part of charming him meant pleasing him in what she wore, hence the yellow silk. It was truly stunning. Using the tortoise-shell comb on the dressing table, she was able to acceptably dress her hair. With the front pinned back and the rest of it long and flowing, the effect emphasized her swan-like neck and pale skin.
Once she was pleasingly attired, she banged on the door and demanded her guards send for Lucifer. She was determined to continue last night’s conversation with the man, at least the conversation they’d held in private when he’d removed her from the hall, and hopefully carry through the momentum of it until she had his promise that she could buy her freedom. In fact, it was all she could think about.
“What are you up to, Genni?” Vivienne asked when her sister was finished shouting to the guards through the door. “Why do you wish to see that pirate again?”
Genevieve feigned innocence as she looked at her sister. “What do you mean?”
Vivienne wasn’t as naïve as her sister thought she was. Lying on her bed, she pushed her puppies aside and climbed off the mattress before they could lay on her again.
“You know what I mean,” she hissed. “Are you calling him here just so you can attack him again?”
Genevieve gave her sister an impatient look. “Do you truly believe I would be so foolish?”
Vivienne cocked an eyebrow. “Do you want me to answer that?”
Genevieve scowled. “Pah,” she brushed her sister off. “You know nothing. You must trust me, Vivi. I believe I have found a way to get us out of our predicament.”
Vivienne inspected her sister, walking a judgmental circle around the woman as she eyed everything about her.
“By doing what?” she asked. Then, she shook a finger at her. “You are up to something. I know you too well. Tell me what it is so I might at least be prepared for it.”
Genevieve wasn’t sure if she should tell her. Vivienne was prudish sometimes, and fearful, and Genevieve didn’t want the woman betraying her in a fit of panic. As she’d proven during the meal the night before, sometimes she just blurted things out. Genevieve didn’t want her plans revealed by a sister who couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“I will, in time,” she said, but it was a lie to shut Vivienne up. “I do not plan to attack anyone. Go back to your dogs and leave the rest to me. I will get us out of here, I promise.”
Vivienne was fairly sure that whatever her sister was planning would come to no good. Heavily, she sighed.
“I do not wish to disbelieve you, but…”
She was cut off when someone rattled the chamber door. Startled, Vivienne scooted back to her dogs as Genevieve made her way to the door, smoothing at her dress and at her hair. She wanted to look pretty for Lucifer. Then, she said a most inappropriate silent prayer.
Please, God. Let me seduce him!
The door jerked open and the first thing Genevieve saw were her guards, standing in a bunch in the corridor outside. But that was normal. Still, she was vastly disappointed not to see Lucifer right away, thinking the man hadn’t bothered to come. He must have sent someone else in his stead. But the moment she opened her mouth to question the guards, a larger figure suddenly filled her field of vision and she found herself looking up at Lucifer himself.
Disappointment turned to surprise, and surprise to pleasure. So, he had come. But that pleasure she felt wasn’t mere contentment that the man had complied with her summons – it was pleasure in the fact that he was simply here. His face had a shadow of stubble on it, but that only served to enhance his comely looks. Genevieve couldn’t help herself; like a fool, she smiled. It was purely a reflex.
“Thank you for coming,” she said politely. “I hope it was not an inconvenience.”
Lucifer found himself gazing down at a woman of astonishing beauty. The yellow gown she was wearing was striking with her coloring. In truth, she looked like the finest lady in the finest court, except for the fact that she wasn’t wearing any jewels. But she didn’t need any. The woman was shining like the sun.
“It was not,” he said. “I was seeing to mundane tasks when I received your request.”
That was a lie. He was seeing to the inventory of the booty they’d brought in the day before, going over the most valuable pieces with Remy and Felix. Curtiz, oddly, was nowhere to be found at daybreak, but Lucifer didn’t give the man much thought. Perhaps he’d found a woman for the night and was holed up somewhere. It wouldn’t have been unusual. Therefore, he’d gone over the inventory himself, pulling out some of the more precious pieces for his own coffers. Since he was the one to have intercepted the merchant vessel, it was his right. He was coming to think a beautiful gold necklace they’d acquired, with a pearl the size of a peach pit, would look quite beautiful on Genevieve right now.
“I am pleased that I did not disrupt your morning,” Genevieve said, shaking him from his thoughts. “I… I was hoping you might have a moment to speak with me.”
Lucifer was quite amenable to such a thing, especially after the pleasant evening they’d spent the night before. “As you wish,” he said. “Shall we speak in private or do you wish to speak with me here?”
Genevieve could see he was agreeable; more than agreeable, in fact, so she pressed her point. “In private, if you do not mind,” she said. “Mayhap… a walk outside? Last night, you took me as far as the keep entry and I would so like to see more of the grounds. If you are willing, of course.”
A pleasant walk around Perran’s extensive grounds with a beautiful woman at his side? Lucifer didn’t see any harm or danger to that request. In fact, it was a most attractive prospect. She was a prisoner, of course, but even prisoners could be treated with respect. Without another word, Genevieve collected the brown cloak with dark-colored rabbit trim, and he took her by the arm and led her from the chamber, leaving the guards to lock the door with Vivienne and her dogs still inside.
But Genevieve wasn’t thinking about her sister as Lucifer escorted her from the chamber. She was thinking purely of her own wants. And as Lucifer took her down the spiral stone steps that led to the keep entry, she was thinking of a way to bring about the purpose of the conversation without making it sound as if she were nagging him about it. She didn’t want the man to change his mind about allowing her to buy her freedom. Therefore, she was very careful in her approach.
The day outside was bright but still rather foggy from the morning that had seen the entire coast socked in with mist. Bits of blue sky could be seen overhead through the clouds, and a crisp sea breeze blew steadily. Genevieve glanced up when she heard the gulls cry, shielding her eyes from the brightness.
“The gulls are quite bold,” she commented simply to fill the silence between them. “Do you know that they sit on the windowsills and demand food? One even came inside my chamber, although Vivi’s dogs chased it away.”
Lucifer smiled faintly. “They are not afraid to demand what they feel is their right,” he said, glancing at her. “And I would think the same can be said for you. You are not afraid to demand what you feel is your right.”
Genevieve could almost hear a rebuke in that statement, but she didn’t rise to it. In fact, she wanted this conversation to be pleasant, not just because she wanted to wrangle a promise from him, but also because he was handsome and, as she’d discovered last night, a good conversationalist when he wanted to be. She very much wanted things to be pleasant between them.
“I do believe I inherited all of the boldness in my family,” she said as if it were an embarrassing admission. “Vivienne is very meek and quiet, and from a very young age, I always spoke up for her. My father is the type of man that you must be bold with or he will never hear you. He is busy with his own needs and hardly has time for his children.”
Lucifer nodded. “I know the type.”
She looked at him, squinting in the sunlight. “Do you?” she said. “Was your father like that also?”
He shook his head. “Nay, he was not,” he said. “My father was surprisingly interested in his children.”
“Do you still speak with him, then?”
Lucifer shook his head. “I have not spoken with my father in many years.”
“Oh,” she looked rather startled, as if she should not have asked such a question. “I am sorry, then. I did not mean to pry.”
“You did not.”
She paused a moment. “Truthfully, I’ve not spoken face to face with my father for over a year,” she said. “I have been in Ireland during that time and any word from him came in the form of a missive, including the betrothal to de Noble. You would think that something of such importance would be delivered in person, but my father is not what you would call a warm or understanding man. He simply issues directives and we are expected to obey them. I have often wondered what it would be like to have a father who actually cared for his children.”
They were drifting onto a subject that, normally, Lucifer stayed away from. He did not speak of his past and the only person he’d ever spoken to of his father was Constantine, and that had been nearly by accident. But they’d drifted onto this subject so naturally that he didn’t feel the usual reserve that he did. In fact, he responded to her before he could stop himself.
“I think it can be both a blessing and a curse,” he said. “For my brothers and me, my father was firm but kind, but very rigid when it came to discipline. He would beat us for misbehaving and then hug us and weep afterwards. I grew up thinking that was the natural order of things until I went to foster and was beaten by my master, who did not weep in sorrow when it was finished. That was a shock to me, I must admit.”
Genevieve looked up at him, grinning because of the ironic twinkle in his eye. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Three.”
“Where do you fall in the order of the family?”
“I am the eldest son.”
She paused a moment before continuing. “May I ask you a question?”
“You may.”
“Is your name truly Lucifer? I only ask because it seems like such a hateful name for a child, and if you said your father was kind, then it seems… surprising.”
He glanced at her, coming to realize he’d spoken more of personal things with her than he’d ever spoken of with any of the men of Poseidon’s Legion, men he’d known for ten years or more. She was surprisingly easy to talk to, and God knew how long it had been since he’d last had a conversation with a woman, at least a woman he wanted to talk to. Inevitably, his defenses were going down, with her charm being the bombardment.
He was weakening.
“I will tell you, but you must swear to secrecy,” he said, feigning seriousness.
But Genevieve didn’t pick up on the jest. She nodded solemnly, convinced he was going to tell her something of great importance. “Of course,” she said. “I would never tell a soul, not even Vivi. Does this mean your name really is Lucifer?”
His lips flickered with a grin. “It is not,” he said. “But the last time I saw my father, he said that I was Lucifer himself, so I simply took that as my name. I suppose, in a sense, the man I was before my last conversation with my father ceased to exist. Now, I am Lucifer.”
Genevieve sensed a great deal of sorrow in the man with that statement. Something in his words suggested a depth to the man she hadn’t sensed before. She was greatly curious.
“Did you do something terrible?” she asked, but quickly caught herself and shook her head swiftly. “Forgive me. I should not have asked. That is not my business. I am sure you would like for me to get to the reason I asked to speak privately with you, and I shall. I know that your time is valuable.”
It was a very considerate observation, one that surprised Lucifer. It showed that the woman had some sense of thoughtfulness and decorum, unlike the wild animal who had attacked him yesterday. She was also well-spoken, and polite when she wanted to be, and he realized that he believed her when she’d said she’d been well educated, with many skills that fine ladies should have. He could believe it implicitly. There was also something in him that wanted to finish this part of their conversation before they delved into another. He had no idea why he should, but he did. It had been so long since he’d talked about himself that he found there to be something therapeutic in it. Having one’s walls of defense up constantly was exhausting. With Genevieve, there seemed to be some relief from that.
“My time is valuable,” he agreed. “But not so valuable that I am not inclined to spend time in conversation with you. It is rare that I have the opportunity to speak with someone like you. You are quite pleasant when you’re not trying to bash my brains in with a table leg.”
Genevieve grinned, embarrassed, and her cheeks flushed a sweet shade of pink. “And you are quite pleasant when you are not berating me,” she admitted. Her gaze lingered on him a moment. “May I also apologize for something?”
“What?”
“You are not really ugly. I did not mean it.”
He fought off a grin. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
He dipped his head gallantly. “Then I thank you, my lady,” he said. “Actually, I was coming to worry that I was. Your opinion in such matters, I am sure, is quite flawless.”
She giggled. “I suppose I think that it is but, in truth, I am sure it is not,” she said, sobering. “I was needlessly cruel yesterday, but you must understand that we… I mean, that this situation… it has been unnerving, to say the least.”
His smile faded as well. “That is understandable,” he said. “And it is Rhoan.”
“What is Rhoan?”
“My name,” he said quietly. “Rhoan Wyndham Aramis de Wolfe. My father is the Earl of Wolverhampton.”
Genevieve’s eyes widened. “The son of an earl is a pirate?”
He started to reply but he realized they were still standing just outside of the entrance to the keep and there were men about. He didn’t know how much anyone had heard of his conversation with Genevieve, but he suspected no one had really heard him. They would be taking their lives in their hands if they tried.
Still, to ensure their complete privacy, he offered his elbow to Genevieve, who accepted without hesitation. He began to walk, taking her to a section of the bailey off to the south that wasn’t busy with men going about their business. It was south of the hall, where the kitchen yard was, with an elaborate postern gate that led through the outer wall and to the world outside.
“Most pirates or mercenaries are not men who chose that profession,” he said. “Believe it or not, many of them simply fell into it, or took to it because they had no other option. I am one of the ones who simply fell into it.”’
Genevieve could feel his thick, muscular arm beneath her hand. It felt rather nice, rather safe, in fact, if the man wasn’t a known pirate. But she found this line of conversation deeply interesting.
“May I ask how you fell into it?” she asked.
Lucifer was looking up at the battlements of Perran as he spoke. “It is a long story,” he said. “And an ugly one. Suffice it to say that my father committed me to a priory in Wales to atone for my sins. Whilst serving at the priory in penitence, it was attacked by pirates. Constantine le Brecque and I had quite a battle before I realized I could not beat him, and he realized he could not beat me. You see, I always thought I was the best knight in all of England. But once I met a man I could not best, it was natural that I should swear allegiance to him. The men of Poseidon’s Legion believe I am a priest because they found me at the priory, but that is not true. I am a knight, and the heir to Wolverhampton. Being at the priory – I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
They had entered the kitchen yard at this point, wandering as they chatted, and they passed by the heavy postern gate that gave a hint of the sea beyond its iron slats. Genevieve glanced at it, but instead of thinking of it as a portal of escape, she was lingering on Lucifer and the conversation.
She understood, at least as much as he was telling her, but the great sin he committed that his father should consign him to the priory was a mystery, one she didn’t feel comfortable asking about. Clearly, Lucifer was a man of many secrets and she didn’t want to dig deeper, fearful she might not like what she discovered. As it was, she could feel herself warming to the man, as if the situation between them was completely normal and he was not her captor and she, not his captive. It was an illusion, she knew, but a welcome one. She’d never been so interested in a man in her entire life.
“So you became part of Poseidon’s Legion,” she said softly. “And your father – does he know?”
“He does not.”
She pondered that. “I think that if I had a son, I would want to know of him every moment of every day,” she said. “I would never let him out of my thoughts, not even if he did something terrible. Do you suppose your father does not think that way?”
He thought back to that horrible conversation he’d had with his father those years ago when the man had told him how ashamed he was of him. It was a conversation Lucifer had relived in his mind, many times, and always with the wish that he could redeem himself someday. But after living the life of a pirate for so long, he wasn’t sure that was possible anymore, and the realization cut him to the bone more than he could admit. After a moment, he shook his head.
“I do not know,” he said honestly. “Sometimes, there is damage between fathers and sons that cannot be repaired.”
“And you know this for certain?” she pressed gently. “You said your father was kind. I cannot imagine that has changed. You are his son, after all, and time has a way of diluting bad memories until all we remember are the better things. Mayhap, he has forgotten all about the harsh words between you two. But if he has not, mayhap he regrets them all the same.”
That was very true. And very upsetting. Lucifer found himself thinking about his father, whether or not he wanted to. It was enough to force him off the subject, sorrow for a man he’d not seen in years grabbing at him. He thought he’d done a good job of suppressing that sorrow over the years and didn’t like the fact that his conversation with Genevieve had brought it back.
“It is possible that what you say is true,” he said, clearing his throat quietly. “But I suppose some things are not meant to be repaired, no matter how much time has passed. Now, you wished to speak with me about something, my lady. Your time is valuable.”
Genevieve smiled, hearing her words. But she also realized he didn’t want to speak anymore on his father and she would respect that. Still, their conversation had been quite eye-opening. The brute from yesterday had transformed into a man who was agreeable and polite, and even kind if she really thought on it. He didn’t have to indulge her, not in the least. But he had.
She was coming to like him, just a little.
“My time is what you say it is,” she said. “If you say it is valuable, then it is. In truth, I wished to speak with you on a subject we discussed last night – my ability to buy my freedom and my sister’s freedom from you. Have you had an opportunity to think on it? I thought, mayhap, we could discuss what, exactly, I could do to earn my freedom. I told you I could do a great many things, and I can. One thing I could possibly do is act as an interpreter. You surely must do business with many people from many lands, and I can speak several languages. Could that be a way to earn my freedom?”
Lucifer hadn’t really thought much on their discussion from last night other than the images in his mind from the event – images of Genevieve. He’d thought on her beautiful face, her hair, her curvy figure. That had lingered on his mind last night and well into the morning. But the subject of their conversation hadn’t been in the forefront and, given her anxious expression, he was honest about it.
“I’ve not given it much thought,” he said. “It is true that we come into contact with men from many different countries, but we’ve not had a problem communicating with them.”
That was of some disappointment to Genevieve. She thought the interpreter offer was a valid one.
“I see,” she said. “You do not believe it would be a good service?”
“I did not say that. But if you were to act as interpreter, you would have to come aboard our vessels and that means you would be in danger when we engaged in battle.”
He said it like it was of some concern to him. His tone struck Genevieve as he spoke. Is he actually concerned for me? She thought. It was purely madness to think so, but then again, she thought it had been madness earlier to imagine the man had some warmth in his expression when it came to her, but their conversation today had shown her that she’d, indeed, been correct.
There was some warmth there.
“I am not afraid of a fight,” she said. It was not a boast, but truth. “I stood my ground when you overtook my father’s vessel, did I not?”
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “You did,” he said. “I remember it well. And then, of course, there was yesterday…”
He trailed off, wriggling his eyebrows at her, and she produced an expression suggesting her actions might not have been in her best interests.
“I was going to take you hostage,” she said truthfully. When he smirked, she burst out laughing. “I was! I truly was! Had Vivi given me the sharpened table leg, I would have been successful!”
He was still smiling. “You think so, do you?”
She nodded firmly. “After being held captive for a month, see if you do not become desperate,” she said. Her laughter faded. “I was desperate. I still am. Won’t you please allow me to work for you and buy my freedom?”
Something very strange happened to Lucifer at that moment; he didn’t want her working to gain her freedom, but he no longer wanted to hold her captive, either. He didn’t want the woman under his control, but a free woman who would allow him to talk to her whenever he wished, and perhaps dine with him so he could lavish gifts upon her. In a very short amount of time, she had him under her spell and he was enjoying their repartee immensely. He’d never known anything like it in his life, not even with the Duchess of Richmond who only wanted to speak of his body parts and how they made her feel.
Oddly enough, he thought of the young duchess who had given birth to his son those years ago. She’d married a very old man who, according to her, couldn’t perform in the bedchamber, which was why she’d taken Lucifer as her lover – he could perform in the bedchamber, sometimes several times a day. The more he thought on it, the more he realized the only thing they’d ever had between them had been the sex. Always, the sex. He couldn’t honestly remember having a meaningful conversation with the woman because she never wanted to talk. Only fuck. And he’d fancied himself in love with her.
But he knew better now.
It was so strange how this short time with Genevieve had opened his eyes to that fact. Perhaps he’d always known it. But now, he could admit it to himself. It had never been love with the duchess, only a physical lust. Once he’d gotten past the boldness and belligerence, he could see that Genevieve was an intelligent, charming woman and he’d very much enjoyed the conversations they’d shared. She wasn’t interested in bedding him – at least, he didn’t think so – but interested in who he was as a man, as a person. He hadn’t experienced that in so long… God, maybe he’d never experienced it, ever.
But now, he was.
He knew, at that moment, that he was going to release her. And then, he was going to pursue her.
“I believe we can come to an agreement of some kind,” he said, his tone not indicative of his thoughts. “Provided I am satisfied in the end. But tell me something – if you are not going to return to Ireland, or even Plymouth, where will you go? It is a big, dangerous world out there and two women alone will be in great danger.”
Genevieve thought his answers sounded very positive and the hope she’d had before now blossomed. The pretty dress, the pleasant conversation – it had worked on him. But in the process of charming the man, he’d managed to charm her, too. He was soft-spoken for the most part, but that deep voice was like silk-covered steel. It was hard and soft at the same time, something she found most attractive. That, coupled with those golden eyes and big dimples, made him nearly irresistible.
You are not really ugly…
Nay, the man wasn’t ugly at all. In fact, he was a god.
But the fact remained that he was a pirate. He was a murderer and a thief. How could she find someone like that attractive? Perhaps that made her more foolish than she realized, but the truth was that she couldn’t help herself. She was coming not to see him as a cruel, barbaric pirate – she was coming to see him as just a man, as normal and pleasant as any other.
“My mother has a sister who lives in Carlisle,” she answered belatedly. “I am sure she will take Vivi and me in.”
“And if she does not?”
Genevieve shrugged. “I have not thought on that possibility,” she admitted. “I suppose I do not want to. But if she will not take us in, then I suppose we shall have to commit ourselves to the nearest abbey to survive.”
He rolled his eyes in disapproval. “You will not commit yourself to an abbey,” he said flatly. “A woman of your beauty and talent? It would be a sheer waste.”
“Then what else are we to do?”
Marry me.
They were the first words he thought of in reply and it startled the hell out of him. Marry? God’s Bones, what in the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t the marrying kind. He never had been. But with Genevieve… how else could he keep her around him? He could either make her his concubine, something he suspected she would rebel against, or he could make her his wife.
The wife seemed the more logical answer.
But he didn’t say that. In fact, he was still reeling from the fact that he’d even considered the subject of marriage. He wasn’t in love with the woman, but he was certainly charmed by her. Intrigued by her. She was strong, smart, and accomplished, and she would make a proud wife for any man.
Marry me…
It was possible he would, at that.
“Mayhap I can think of something,” he said after a moment. “Can you sew?”
“Beautifully.”
“Then you can support yourself as a seamstress.”
They were still walking as they spoke, now coming to the end of the wall they’d been following and taking a turn. The ground was muddy and rocky, wet from the mist that had settled overnight, and Genevieve lifted her fine silk skirt higher so it wouldn’t drag in the muck.
“But you need money for that,” she said. “You need money for supplies, like thread and fabric. If I buy my freedom from you, I will not have any money left over for such a venture.”
“That is for me to determine,” he said. “Do you really think I would let you leave without any money or protection? That I would just throw you out into the dangerous world?”
There was that concern in his tone again. Curious, Genevieve looked at him to see if there was the same such concern in his expression. But the moment she turned her head, her right slipper came down on a rock that was slick with mud. At the awkward angle, her foot slipped off and she would have fallen had Lucifer not had a hold of her. He kept her from falling into the mud.
“Are you well?” he asked, more concern than ever in his voice. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Genevieve shook her head, but she realized that her near-fall had caused the hem of her lovely gown to brush into the mud. “Nay,” she said, frustrated that the dress was dirtied. “I must have slipped on something and…”
She put her right foot down to continue their walk and immediately yelped in pain. Lucifer, seeing that she had, indeed, hurt herself, didn’t hesitate. He swept her up into his big arms and quickly headed for the keep, booming to a servant along the way to send the physic to his chambers.
With that, their pleasant conversation for the morning abruptly ended.