Chapter Fourteen
“I like her, you know.”
Devlin looked up from the paper he had been reading and across the breakfast table to where Nicholas was sitting. “I assume you are talking about Lady Sophie?”
“Yeah, of course.” The boy stuffed another piece of bacon into his mouth. “It was funny when she was telling you off.”
He grunted. “I am glad you thought so.”
“She’s a good sort, hey?” Nicholas continued. “I noticed you thought so.”
Devlin spluttered on his coffee. “A good sort? Do you even know what that means?”
“Means she’s pretty and nice.” Earnest innocence radiated through the boy’s expression. For one who had essentially been brought up surrounded by sailors, he was still just a child.
“That she is. I believe she is to collect you soon for your day at the Orphanage.”
“Orphanage?” Nicholas exclaimed. “No one said nothing ’bout no orphanage.”
Devlin picked up a spoon and tapped it against the hard-boiled egg that sat in a delicate silver egg cup next to his plate. “That’s what Grey Street is.”
“Then I ain’t going.”
“Why not?” Devlin lowered his spoon without taking a bite.
“Because she might leave me there is why!” Nicholas declared as he stood up, scraping the chair against the floor in the process.
“Do not be absurd.” Devlin took a sip of coffee. “Of course she will not leave you there.”
“Yes she will, ’cause that’s what orphanages are for!” The little boy’s eyes were nearly the size of the saucer under his coffee cup. “I won’t go, I tell ya.”
“Sit down and eat your breakfast,” Devlin commanded, giving the boy a pointed look as he reopened his paper.
Reluctantly, Nicholas sat down, a scowl on his little face. “I ain’t going,” he mumbled as he picked up his fork and moved the eggs on his plate from side to side.
“You will go, and that is the end of it.” He turned back to the paper and recommenced reading.
The sound of sniffling slowly penetrated the peace and quiet of the breakfast room. Devlin sighed, lowering his paper once more so he could pinpoint its origin. Which happened to be Nicholas, of course, with large tear drops rolling down his cheeks. “Why on earth are you crying?”
“I ain’t crying,” Nicholas blurted out, quickly wiping away his tears with the right sleeve of his jacket.
After shaking out his paper, he folded it, placing it back on the table. “Then what are you upset about? I have told you Sophie will not leave you at the orphanage.”
He hiccupped. “But Mrs. Smith was always saying if I kept being bad, she’d take me to the orphanage and leave me there forever, seeing as I ain’t got no parents.”
Devlin stifled a curse. “Your former governess was lying to you, Nicholas. You are my ward, and this is your home now. I would never allow anyone to leave you in an orphanage.”
The boy said nothing for a moment, seemingly weighing up the truth in Devlin’s words. “Ya promise?”
He looked into the little boy’s eyes, eyes which were mirror images of his late father’s, who had been a good friend to Devlin, too. He realized that perhaps he did need to spend a bit more time with the boy. It was the least he could do in John’s memory. “I promise.”
Nicholas paused a moment, seemingly to assess the promise. “I suppose Sophie did say we were going to be a family, hey?”
“Yes, she did,” he agreed, picking up the paper once again.
“So why are you still here this morning? You don’t normally have breakfast with me.”
He stifled a grunt and put the paper back onto the table. He was obviously not going to get a chance to look at the stock market while at the breakfast table with a curious seven year old. Besides, he did actually enjoy his conversations with Nicholas, who with his odd upbringing and unconventional way of looking at things amused Devlin to no end. “I’ve decided that I need to spend more time with you. Your father was a great mentor to me while I was learning the shipping trade. I would be honored to stand in his stead, and though I know I could never replace him, I hope to give you some of the guidance and warmth he showed me. So, from now on, whenever possible, we shall have breakfast together.”
Thoughtful deliberation took place behind the boy’s gaze. “I thought it was ’cause Sophie’s coming.”
The fact that she was collecting Nicholas after breakfast had absolutely no bearing whatsoever on his decision to stay home later than he normally did. Though perhaps her influence was already having a positive effect over him? Obviously, he’d known that marriage to Sophie would help him be more effective in creating a home for Nicholas.
“Your Grace?” His butler Jenkins called from the door. “Lady Sophie Wolcott is at the front entrance to collect the young sir. Shall I ask her to wait?”
“I’ll go get her,” Nicholas yelled enthusiastically, pushing himself out of his chair and launching himself toward the doorway.
Devlin shook his head in amusement and addressed Jenkins. “Perhaps you should follow and ensure he does not knock down any china in his mad rush to escort Lady Sophie.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” The man beat a hasty retreat after the very excited “young sir.”
A few moments later, Devlin heard the animated chatter of Nicholas’ voice carrying down the passage, followed by a melodious laugh, which he instantly recognized as Sophie’s. Their footsteps grew louder, and he found himself watching the doorway expectantly.
Nicholas rushed in first, followed by Sophie. She smiled at Devlin, and for a moment, he felt uncharacteristically clumsy. Slowly getting to his feet, he could not help but drink in the sight of her. She was dressed in a modest blue gown that molded her body to perfection. The blue bonnet perched jauntily atop her head framed her heart face while small golden curls from her hair teased the nape of her neck.
She appeared so wholesome and filled with light and laughter, so very different from his own darkness within.
He knew she was much too good for him, but just looking at her and breathing in her sweetness was like a tonic that he had somehow become addicted to without even knowing when or how.
Suddenly, he felt extremely vulnerable in a way he never had as an adult. He did not like the feeling at all. This arrangement with her was to further his business empire only. He must remember that and not let his emotions become involved, for that was a sure path to ruin.
“Good morning, Devlin,” she said, gliding across the room to the breakfast table where Nicholas was holding out a chair for her to Devlin’s left.
“Morning,” he replied gruffly.
“Why thank you, Nicholas,” she said, smiling at the boy while taking a seat on the chair proffered to her. “I did not expect to see you this morning.” There was surprise alight in her face.
He sat down and scowled. “Why is everyone commenting on my staying home this morning?”
She grinned at Nicholas. “I think someone may have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.”
The boy giggled.
The woman was enjoying teasing him. “Well, at least in the future that is something you will be able to ensure does not occur.”
He had the satisfaction of watching her eyes widen in comprehension before she hastily looked back toward Nicholas.
“So, Nicholas,” she began, “are you ready for your morning adventure to the orphanage?”
He tilted his chin up slightly. “Just so you know, you ain’t allowed to leave me there. Devlin won’t allow it.”
“Of course not!” she exclaimed. “You are to be my brave protector today, and I could not leave such a protector in an orphanage, now could I?”
Nicholas pressed a finger against his cherubic cheek in contemplation. “No, I don’t suppose you could. Do ya think I’ll need me wooden sword to protect ya with?”
“What an excellent idea,” she quickly agreed. “Why don’t you run up and go fetch it?”
“Okay.” He scooted back from the chair and stood. But before racing off, he glanced back at Devlin. “Is it okay to be excused and all?”
“Yes. Off you go.” He then watched as the boy ran out of the room. He turned back to find with satisfaction Sophie’s gaze upon him. She looked extremely thoughtful and much too shrewd for his comfort.
“Could you please dismiss the footmen?” she leaned forward and whispered.
“Very well.” He glanced at the two footmen standing to the side of the buffet. “Leave us.” He watched as they departed, then swung his eyes back to Sophie. “What scheme are you up to now?”
A scowl formed across her beautiful features. “Why would you assume such a thing?”
“Besides the fact you asked me to get rid of any eavesdroppers?” He grinned. “You have the same expression on your face as when you are assessing a crowded ballroom, looking for plump pockets to extract donations from.”
Sophie pursed her lips slightly. “Well, you have no need to worry, for I am not about to ask you for another donation or anything of that sort.”
“Good. After the ridiculous monthly amount I agreed to give you, I should bloody well hope you would be satisfied.” He still wasn’t certain how she’d managed to get him to agree to such a sum.
“You will be glad to know that all I am after is an invitation to Lord Crowley’s house party in a fortnight.”
She was serious. He nearly choked on his drink. “Lord Crowley’s house party? Are you mad, woman? The place runs rife with debauchery. I shall not risk ruining your reputation by taking you. Absolutely not!”
“But you must,” she implored. “You did receive an invitation, I assume?”
“Yes, but that does not mean I shall be taking you anywhere near the place.”
“But Devlin, it is imperative I attend!”
He narrowed his gaze. “Why?” She was hiding something; of that he was sure.
“I’ve heard his parties are all the rage,” she explained, her lovely face the very picture of innocence.
“Since when have parties known to be full of debauchery and scandalous entertainment been to your liking?”
“If I am to be married to one of the most notorious men of the Ton, then at least I should be exposed to some of his past amusements,” she replied. “Besides, only the highest-ranking members of the Ton ever get invited, so it cannot be all that bad.”
“Oh, yes, it can. Its exclusivity is not something to recommend it to an innocent and respectable unmarried lady.” He pondered her possible motives for a moment, then resorted to asking her directly. “What is the real reason you wish to go?”
Her expression became shuttered. “I have told you why.”
“No,” he corrected. “You have given me a fictitious tale, not told me the true reason behind this grand notion of yours.”
“I shall marry you within the month if you agree to take me,” she blurted out.
Devlin relaxed back against his chair and looked at her. She was so determined to go to some ridiculous house party that she would change her mind about the wedding time frame, even after she had protested it greatly the night before? Yes, something was definitely going on, and it was clear that she was not going to tell him, at least not yet anyway. “Very well, I shall accept the invitation.”
“Just like that?” she asked. “No more questioning me?”
“You have agreed to marry me within a month, and I shall be there to protect you at the house party.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “If you are that determined to go, we shall do so. I will find out the reason of why you wish to attend soon enough.”
“I have told you the reason.”
“So you say,” he said, picking up his paper. The woman was up to something; that was a certainty. But he wasn’t worried. His fiancée wasn’t particularly an expert in the art of concocting false tales.
“Well, thank you anyhow. Perhaps I best go and hurry Nicholas along.” She pushed back her chair and stood.
Devlin put his paper down and rose also. “Very well. However, I will be sending a footman with you both for an added measure of protection.”
Her eyebrows knitted together in consternation. “That will not be necessary. I have my maid with me.”
“I did not get to my position without making enemies, and I guard what is mine very fiercely.”
A slight flush crept up her cheeks. “Luckily, I am not yours yet,” she said archly.
Before she had a chance to move, he reached across, wrapped his hands her waist, and pulled her body in close to his. He was gentle, so she could escape if she needed to, but she went liquid in his arms, and soon, they were mere inches from touching. He leaned his head down so that his mouth was only a breath away from her ear.
“But you are already mine,” he whispered as he brought his other hand up and slowly trailed the pads of his fingers leisurely down her cheek until his thumb was slowly caressing the outline of her lower lip. He drew his hand under her chin and tilted her face up to his.
“A fact you obviously need reminding of,” he whispered before his lips found hers.
A breathless sigh escaped her. As irritated as she had claimed to be with his highhandedness, her body did not seem to care as she practically melted at his onslaught. She reached up and wound her arms across the back of his neck, pulling him in closer.
He curled his hands more possessively around her waist, and their bodies melded against each other, the perfect fit.
She gasped as his hands traveled lower and kneaded her derriere. His tongue slowly caressed the inner edges of her lips, gentle yet persistent in coaxing her to open up to him. Tentatively, her tongue began to mimic his movements.
Devlin’s mouth became more insistent and demanding upon her own. A deep growl rumbled from his chest as his right hand skimmed up her bodice. Her skin felt like it was on fire. A deep satisfaction welled in him at the observation.
His fingertips moved over the fabric and began to tease the skin at the top of her breast that was exposed by the neckline of her dress.
His mouth broke away from her own and slowly started traveling down the column of her neck, softly kissing the exposed skin.
“So soft,” he whispered as his mouth hovered just above her neckline. With a deft flick of his fingers, he pushed aside the material. Her breast sprang free, and as Sophie tangled her hands in his hair, his lips covered her nipple, softly sucking it deeper into his mouth.
She moaned in response, and Devlin felt a surge of satisfaction.
Flicking his tongue across her nipple, he began to knead her other breast with his right hand. She arched her back, pushing more of her breast into his mouth.
She stumbled slightly as he tore his mouth from her body and straightened. There was a dazed look in her gaze as his hands deftly replaced the fabric of her dress back over her.
“I am afraid I hear the sound of running footsteps rapidly approaching.” He glanced into her eyes and slowly traced the bottom of her lip with his finger. Her breath hitched in her throat, and he smiled in gratification at her response. “Next time, you shall have to choose the location of where you wish to seduce me with more care.”
“Where I seduce you,” she exclaimed, stepping back from him, the haze of passion clearing from her emerald gaze.
He laughed. He loved how the emotion in her eyes had suddenly condensed into a jade furnace. She really was incredibly beautiful, even when she was flaying him alive with those cat-like eyes of hers.
“Of all of the conceited notions,” she retorted. “You might distract me with kisses and the like on occasion, but I’ll have you know that that will not distract me from that dribble you were spouting. I am not yours yet, Huntington, and you would do well to remember that fact.”
“You have always been mine, Sophie, and we both know it. Ever since you fell out of that tree and landed at my feet, you were meant to be mine.”
She squared her shoulders. “I am no man’s.”
“You might be able to lie to yourself, but your body does not lie. It responds to me as if just begging to be possessed fully.”
He watched as knowledge of what he was alluding to dawned in her eyes, and a rosy flush started to creep across her cheeks. Her modesty delighted him.
Nicholas burst through the double doors, his wooden sword held high above his head. “I am ready to protect you, my lady.”
“Perfect timing, lad,” Devlin applauded. “I think Lady Sophie is in need of rescuing.”