Chapter 16

 

“Wherein our hero lives to fight another day … and fight he must.”

Dev returned home, still rather astonished that not only was he alive, but his offer had been accepted. The enormity of what he’d done still stunned him. His father would be turning in his grave. That thought alone made a smile curve over his lips.

For once it had not been about revenge, however. That his father would have howled with rage was merely the icing on the cake, not his motivation. For once, he had his future in mind; a future in which he would build the foundations for a new life, one where the Devlin name was once again respected, but respected most of all by the people who mattered the most… his family.

The Kendall family were not his, he knew that, yet they had crawled under his skin and made him long for their acceptance. He wanted to see John grow into a young man and help guide him in a way his own father had never done for him. He wanted to see Jane turn into a bright and vivacious woman like her sister, yet without the cares and worries that had blighted Charity’s life. Kit he would see fit and healthy, and a successful poet. Such things were much easier when you knew the right people. Mr and Mrs Baxter would be safe too, and a crucial part of their lives as always. More than anything though, he would see Charity by his side, always. He would protect her and those she loved from storms and fears and anything that threatened her happiness, he would fight with her and make her furious and love her so thoroughly that she need never regret putting her trust in him.

By the time the carriage rolled to a halt before Devlin Hall, Dev was exhausted. He’d been on move for almost six days, only stopping when there was no other choice. He’d dozed on and off as the carriage lurched and pitched him all the way home, but his mind was too full of hope and anxiety to let him rest for long.

The same question was circling around and around his brain with no clear answer. What would Charity say when she discovered that he was the man she hated with such passion? What would she do when she realised the villain who had upended her peaceful existence and caused her family such distress was the man they had cared for and sheltered for so many weeks? When she realised the depths of his betrayal, the extent of his lies? Fear of it made his chest grow tight. The all too real possibility that she might never forgive him stole his breath, as the fear of being without her again prowled in his heart.

If she could not forgive him, he would be worse than lost. He’d been lost and alone his whole life and endured it as he’d known no other way of living. Now, however, he’d seen what was possible, what had been within his grasp all along, if only he’d been honest and kind. God, how he wished he’d been kind. Yet he hadn’t known how. He’d needed to be taught what it meant to give with no expectation of receiving anything in return. Charity had taught him that. They all had.

He stepped down from the carriage, his limbs protesting after so much time confined in a small space. The ground beneath him felt odd, as if it still moved with the sway of the carriage. Moving forward and hurrying up the stairs he rubbed a hand over his face to wake himself up. He needed to wash and change and get back to the farm as fast as he could. Though he felt sick with anxiety and fear for Charity’s reaction, he was impatient to tell her everything. He’d get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness if he had to. At least he hoped his actions would speak for his intentions; that they would show her how much he’d changed, and just how far he would go to make her happy.

He burst through the doors of the great house, casting hat and gloves at Jennings as he went, and was about to run up the stairs when Mr Ogden appeared.

Dev stopped in his tracks, rage chasing any sense of fatigue from his bones as his blood surged in his veins, the desire to do the man harm prickling over his skin.

“Mr Ogden,” he said, fighting the desire to just knock the man down without a word. Not yet.

He watched as Ogden gave him the taut, supercilious smile he always reserved for Dev. The one that implied he knew he was the better man, and it was only the vagaries of fate that had given Dev money and power.

“My lord.”

Strange, how he’d never noted quite how insolent his tone was before. Or perhaps that was new, now he had another job to go to.

“Why have you not stopped the sale of Brasted Farm as I instructed?”

“My lord?” Ogden replied, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “But why would I? Your instructions on leaving were clear. I was to ensure the sale of the property proceeded without a hitch.”

Dev turned to face Jennings who was watching proceedings with avid interest. “Did you send someone to the post office as I instructed?”

“I did, my lord,” the butler replied, his face a mask, though there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

“And?” Dev demanded, folding his arms. “What did they tell you?”

“The post was collected as usual, my lord. Only one letter that particular day. I spoke to the staff and the second footman confirmed that he put the letter into Mr Ogden’s hand as soon as he received it.”

Both men turned to stare at Ogden, who looked a little less sanguine than he had a moment before. In fact, he looked rather pale.

“Nothing to say, sir?” Dev said, his tone brittle as he took a step towards Ogden.

Mr Ogden swallowed and took a step back.

“I-I can’t account for it, my lord. I must have misplaced it and can only apologise. There h-has been so much happening in your absence, the sale and… and….”

“Ah yes, back to the sale,” Dev said, interrupting his stuttering explanation. “Tell me, Ogden,” he said, advancing on the man as he spoke. “Why did you suggest Brasted Farm ought to be sold?”

He kept his voice light, but he had no doubt Ogden could see the anger blazing in his eyes.

“B-But I didn’t…. I—”

“Yes, you did,” Dev growled, remembering the meeting with clarity.

He’d spent a deal of time mulling it over, remembering the regretful look on Ogden’s face as he suggested it might meet Dev’s need to sell something. It had been him who had reminded Dev of Thompson’s interest in the land and the farm.

“I took the liberty of studying the ledgers and maps pertaining to my property,” Dev said, growing angrier as he spoke. “Something I fully admit I ought to have done many years ago. I also read all the correspondence between you and Squire Thompson. Brasted Farm was one of two properties he was interested in buying. The other is empty as the tenants died but has hundreds of acres of good grazing land, which is what he’s after. His interest in it was marked and his offer for it more than generous. Better, in fact, than the offer for Miss Kendall’s farm.”

Ogden had turned a sickly shade of alabaster with just a hint of green, though two high spots of colour blazed on his cheeks.

“Are you quite well, Mr Ogden?” Dev demanded, folding his arms as the man stared at him in horror. “You look rather ill. But then I suppose putting Miss Kendall in a position where she had no choice but to marry you to save her family would make a fellow feel rather nauseated.” He was all but snarling now as Ogden sweated before him. “I know it makes me sick to my stomach.”

“You didn’t care!” Ogden snapped, his temper rising now he’d been cornered like the rat he was. “I told you all about her, all about her family’s troubles. You could have stopped it, but you didn’t give a damn. You were only interested in saving your own worthless skin, so you could carry on destroying your father’s legacy.”

“I know exactly what I’m guilty of, you miserable little prig,” Dev shouted, advancing on him. The punch landed with a satisfying crunch and Dev hoped he’d broken the bastard’s nose. It had certainly been his intention. Ogden flailed backwards, arms wind milling as he slipped on the polished marble floor. He landed in an undignified heap, blood pouring from his nose as he sought to find his feet and only slipped down again. Dev stood over him, daring the man to stand. He was only too willing to knock him down again.

“My part in this despicable affair is a cross I must bear,” he said, as Ogden stared up at him in terror. “And one I will do my utmost to make amends for. You, however, will leave my employment as of this moment, and I will be studying my finances over the past years with the greatest of interest. If I find so much as a farthing more than was your due has found its way into your pocket, you can be assured I will be informing your new employer to be on his guard.” Dev took a step back, his fists clenched as his desire to make the man suffer further demanded retribution. “Now get out,” he said, knowing if he had to look at the wretched man any longer his temper would get the better of him. “You may send someone to collect your belongings on your behalf, but I want you gone. Now!”

Ogden didn’t need telling twice. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the door.

Dev stood in the great hall and tried to calm himself. After the stress, anxiety, and lack of sleep of the past days he felt raw, unable to think. He could not see Charity in this state. He needed time to clear his head. Perhaps a cool bath and something to eat would settle him down? Though he didn’t want to waste any time, he didn’t want to run to Charity unprepared for what he knew would be an emotional confrontation. He wasn’t fool enough to think he wouldn’t face her wrath. His hopes hinged on his ability to make her see he’d changed. A clear head would be required for that though.

As he crossed the hall and put a foot on the staircase a feminine exclamation of surprise reached him from outside the doors of his home.

What the devil?

He reached the doors just as Jennings opened them. Charity looked up, a battered Mr Ogden at her side, and Dev’s heart clenched with fear as recognition dawned on her face.

For a moment she just stared at him.

She’d been standing on the steps that led to the front doors and Ogden’s hand rested on her arm. No doubt she’d been on her way to tear him off a strip for his mistreatment of his steward.

Now she stumbled backwards, the shock raw as she tried to breathe.

“Charity,” Dev said, his worst fears realised.

He moved forward but she held out her hand, shaking her head, her eyes filling with tears.

“No. No. Don’t.”

She walked away, and he could hear her breath catch with the effort not to cry.

“Charity!” he said, rushing after her now. He took the steps two at a time and found herself at his side, taking her arm, forcing her to look at him.

Charity yanked her hand free, wrenching away from him like he was the devil himself trying to drag her down to hell.

“Don’t touch me!” she cried, the words near hysterical. “Don’t you dare!”

Dev dropped his hand as she put more distance between them.

“You’re him. You’re Lord Devlin.”

It wasn’t a question and Dev could do nothing but give her his answer.

“Yes,” he said. His heart raced in his chest, and he knew that he stood on a knife edge. Of all the worst ways to discover who he was… this had to be the most brutal. “Please, love, let me explain.”

She gave a laugh, though it was a terrible sound, raw and tinged with panic.

“Explain?” she repeated, looking dazed and pale, and like she might faint with the shock of it at any moment. Except Charity would never do something as weak as faint. She was far too strong for that. “Yes please, my lord, could you explain why you decided to turn us out of our home? Oh, and why, when we cared for you, took you into the home you would steal from us and made you welcome, why you never told us the truth? Can you explain that, David?” She was shouting now, though her voice quavered as tears tracked down her face. “My God,” she said, paling further, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And I… I…. actually thought we might have a future, that you really cared.”

She sobbed and turned away, running to the cart where Mr Baxter sat. The old man staring at him in astonishment.

“Charity, wait, please. I’m begging you.” Dev ran after her, snatching at her hand, which she pulled from his grasp as she fled from him.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, her rage incandescent. “Don’t you come near me! Don’t you come near me or my family ever again!”

Mr Baxter stood, whip in hand and gave him a hard look. “I’d do as Miss Kendall says, my lord,” he said, his tone hard and cold. “I don’t want no trouble with you.”

Dev stood still, chest heaving, knowing it was useless to remonstrate with her when her temper was up. She’d not listen to him in this state. Not that he could blame her for her rage after all he’d done. He’d have to let her go, allow her to calm herself a little. Perhaps then he could reason with her.

“Charity,” he said, watching helplessly as she clambered into the cart and stared straight ahead, tears falling down her cheeks unchecked. “Charity, I love you.”

Mr Baxter sent him a dark look and snapped the reins, urging the horse to take them away as fast as possible.

Watching Mr Baxter leave with Charity was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he bore it. He would give her time to breathe, time for her anger to dissipate, and then… then he would try to explain.