Charity and The Devil (Rogues and Gentlemen Book 11) Page 22

  “Too late now, love, he’s committed.”

  Dev laughed and let Charity go for long enough to hold out his hand to her brother. Kit stepped closer, smiling, until he wasn’t. The blow came out of nowhere and Dev stumbled backwards, landing on his arse with a thud.

  “Kit!” Charity screamed.

  “What the…?” Dev touched a tentative hand to his nose, finding it bloody as Charity fell to her knees beside him. “What the hell did you do that for?” he demanded.

  “That was for what happened in London,” Kit replied, his voice grim. He cleared his throat, rubbing his knuckles with a scowl. “Damn, you’ve got a hard head,” he muttered, before offering Dev a hand up. “It’s all right, old chap, I feel much better now.”

  “I wish I could say the same,” Dev remarked, taking his hand with caution. “You’ve got quite a punch for a poet.”

  Kit returned a rather feral grin. “Never judge a book by its cover, nor a poet, come to that. Just because I write of love and romance, doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own in a brawl.”

  “I believe you,” Dev said, staunching the flow with his sleeve.

  “Oh, Luke, you’re bleeding,” Charity cried, fumbling for a handkerchief. “Kit, how could you?”

  “Luke?” Kit said, looking confused.

  Dev held out his hand once more. “Luke Linton,” he said, feeling a little absurd. “I’m a new man,” he added with a grin. “I hope I’ll be one you’ll be happy to have as a brother-in-law. I shall certainly try to be.”

  Kit snorted and took his hand this time, shaking it and giving him a warm smile. “I reckon we’ll rub along well enough,” he said, nodding. “If you can endure Charity, I’m easy to get along with. I’m the nicer twin.”

  Dev laughed as Charity smacked her brother on the arm and Kit cried out like she’d done more than just tap him.

  He pulled her away from her twin and into his arms once more, unable to stop touching her. Happiness bubbled up in his chest, the emotion so new and overwhelming he didn’t know what to do or say next.

  “Come along you two lovebirds, it’ll be dark soon,” Kit said, gesturing up at the skies which had dimmed already. “Charity, didn’t you say something about roast pork and summer pudding?”

  Charity nodded, grinning at him. “Batty will be furious with us for spoiling her welcome home meal,” she said, giving Dev a look that made his heart turn in his chest. “We’d better hurry.”

  “Me too?” he asked, not wanting to presume, though she’d seemed to be inviting him.

  “Of course, you too,” she said, tugging at his hand. “You’re part of the family now.”

  Dev savoured the shock and delight of her words as they rolled over him. He was part of the family now. He wouldn’t ever have to be alone again. He belonged somewhere, and to someone. People would care for him, about him, and he for them. If he ever got lost on the moors, if he ever failed to come home, there were people who would worry, who would look for him and not stop until he was found. The knowledge swelled in his chest, sinking into his bones and filling his heart until he couldn’t breathe with the wonder of it.

  He belonged.

  “Are you coming then?” Charity said, her voice soft as she looked at him, perhaps now understanding the enormity of what had happened to his life. “I’m not going anywhere without you,” she added, moving closer and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Not ever again.”

  Chapter 24

  “Wherein a home coming, and a wedding.”

  Batty welcomed him with open arms as she came out into the yard to greet him. She hugged him hard as she heard their news, blushing at her own audacity. Dev smiled as she dabbed at eyes with her apron, sniffing. “And about time, I might say,” she scolded, shaking her head at Charity, who opened her mouth to protest and then thought better of it. “Honestly, didn’t I tell you the Kendalls were the most stubborn creatures on God’s earth?”

  “That you did,” Mrs Baxter,” Dev replied, grinning at her. “And you weren’t wrong.”

  Charity elbowed him, pursing her lips with indignation. “We’re engaged, that means you’re supposed to be nice to me.”

  “But I’m not a nice man,” Dev replied, winking at her. “I told you that from the start. Besides, if I was, you wouldn’t have agreed to marry me. Who would you argue with then?”

  “True,” she replied with a happy sigh, leaning into him.

  “Mr David!”

  Dev jolted as the high-pitched squeal almost burst his eardrums and Jane wrapped her arms about his legs. “You came back! I knew you would. Charity said you wouldn’t, but I knew you wouldn’t leave us, nor the kittens.”

  Dev bent down and lifted the little girl up, feeling his heart contract as she clung to him, her arms clutched about his neck. “Of course not, sweetheart. I could never leave you, nor the kittens.”

  Jane squeezed her skinny arms about his neck and kissed his cheek, giggling. “Are you going to stay this time?” she asked, her voice a little shy.

  “Yes, love,” he replied, smiling at her even as he hoped his voice wouldn’t break as he was perilously close to blubbing. He felt turned inside out, his emotions too near the surface, as though his skin was too frail to contain such fierceness. It was overwhelming. “I’m building a house for us, a new house with lots of land and you’re all going to come and live there, if you’d like to?” he added, anxious all at once at the daunted look in the girl’s eyes.

  “A big house?” she asked, blinking at him.

  “Quite big,” he replied, cautious now. “Not as big as Devlin Hall, that was too big. You could get lost in it. Just the right size I think. With a lovely bedroom just for you.”

  Jane’s mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape and Dev cleared his throat. “Is … is that all right?”

  “Yes!” the little girl squealed, clinging to him. “Can we go now?”

  “Not now,” Charity replied, laughing as she unwound her sister’s arms from Dev’s neck and made her get down. “It isn’t built yet, but we’ll show you where it will be tomorrow. We have to get married first.”

  Another ear-piercing squeal greeted this news as Jane hugged Charity with delight.

  Dev turned and realised why Charity had untangled him from her sister. John dithered in the yard, eager to see what the noise was about but looking at Dev with caution, waiting.

  “Hello, Lord Devlin,” he said, uncertain now.

  Dev looked up to see Charity had ushered everyone away into the kitchen, pausing only to give him a smile as she left him with John.

  “Hello, John,” he said, wondering what he ought to say. It was easy enough once he’d thought about it. The truth. “I’m so glad to see you again, and I’m sorry for all the upset I caused everyone, so sorry for pretending I was someone I’m not but… but I learned a valuable lesson when I was here. One you helped teach me, and I’m more grateful than you’ll ever know.”

  “I-I did?” John replied, frowning.

  Dev put his arm around the boy’s narrow shoulders. “You did. You remember how you stood up to the gypsy boys?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Luke,” Dev amended. “My name is Luke, and I should like you to use it.”

  “Yes, my lord, I… I mean, Luke.” John nodded, still looking perplexed, so Dev carried on.

  “My father was a bully, John, and I never stood up to him. I tried to punish him in other ways, by being as wicked as I could, by being an embarrassment to him. I never realised that I was only hurting myself by meeting his worst expectations.” He turned to face John, holding his gaze, hoping the boy could see it wasn’t just words, but that he meant it. “I wasn’t as brave as you, standing up for myself and doing my best to be a man instead of a sulky boy. I’ve changed, though, because of you and Charity and Jane, all of you. So, I hope you’ll give me another chance.”

  John’s face cleared, and a tentative smile replaced the frown. “You’re really going to marry Charity?”

  “I am,�
�� Dev said, the happiness bubbling in his chest at that extraordinary statement.

  “And you’re building a new house for us?” He sounded a little incredulous now, perhaps expecting Dev to take his sister away from them. “All of us?”

  “All of you,” Dev replied, squeezing the lad’s shoulder. “It will be a farm, John, and I will need your help.”

  John’s eyes widened, and he laughed at that. “I should say so,” he exclaimed. “Charity said you’d never seen a potato that hadn’t been roasted before.”

  Dev’s lips twitched, and he returned a rueful expression. “That is true,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, you see how much you must teach me?”

  “Everything,” John replied, nodding gravely. “But that’s all right, I’ll teach you about farming and you can teach me to box.” He frowned, peering at Dev’s face. “What happened to your nose?”

  “Your brother planted me a facer,” Dev said, touching a finger to the bruised article and wincing. “Damn near broke it.”

  “Kit?” John exclaimed, astonished. “Kit knocked you down?” He gaped, having trouble swallowing this information. “He never did.”

  “Oh yes, he did,” Dev replied, guiding the young man towards the kitchen as his stomach was growling and the enticing smells of a roast dinner were becoming hard to ignore. “I must tell you he was most ungentlemanly about it too. Took me completely unawares.”

  John gaped, dumbfounded by this information, and Dev took the opportunity to hurry him inside.

  ***

  They were married in the church in Tillforth. Unbeknownst to Charity, Dev had acquired the licence weeks ago. He’d been carrying it about with him ever since, the paper increasingly dog-eared and burning a hole in his pocket.

  The bride wore her best cotton gown and a simple chip bonnet.

  Luke Linton, Viscount Devlin, who had prowled the ballrooms of the ton and had his pick of their lush beauties, was tongue-tied, stumbling over his words in front of the vicar and sweating through his shirt. He clutched Charity’s hand to stop his own from trembling, his palms damp, his heart filled with the enormity of what he was doing. When, at last, they were pronounced man and wife, he turned to her and was gifted with a joyful smile that stole his breath and made his eyes sting with pride and happiness.

  Of course, the story got about and soon everyone in the area knew Charity Kendall was the new Lady Devlin. Dev held his breath the first time she was addressed as such but, aside from a faint blush at her cheeks and a look of surprise, she seemed to accept that this was her now. They both had new names after all, new lives to begin and grow into.

  The wedding breakfast was not a quiet affair, though there was only Kit, John and Jane, and Mr and Mrs Baxter in attendance with the newlyweds.

  Everyone was in high spirits. Mrs Baxter had outdone herself and provided a spread that could have fed an army on the march for several days. The children laughed and giggled, overexcited and full of cheek. Kit indulged in the Champagne that Dev had provided and topped up Mrs Baxter’s glass whenever she wasn’t looking.

  This resulted in some surprisingly bawdy jokes and an enthusiastic rendition of a song she’d learned in her youth that made Charity blush and send the children out to fetch a jug of water.

  The celebrations went on until late, no one being in any hurry to go to bed… except for Dev, and—he hoped—his new wife. However, it was such a blessing to be included in this warm and vibrant family, to feel so welcomed and such a sense of belonging. So, Dev decided he could wait a little longer to be alone with his bride. Not much, but a little.

  Kit put John and Jane to bed, as Mrs Baxter had fallen asleep at the table. With surprising deftness Mr Baxter had removed her half-eaten slice of cake moments before she’d used it as a pillow.

  “She’s always loved a good knees-up,” he remarked, smiling with fondness at his wife, whose soft snores now filled the room. “I’ll see to the animals and then come back and wake her.” He got to his feet, giving them both a sly grin. “I wish you both very happy,” he said, and they both held their breath as they waited for his inevitable prediction of doom. “You’ll neither of you like to give the other the last word, but… I reckon you’ll do.” He winked at them and ambled out of the room, whistling a jaunty tune.

  “My,” Charity said, eyes wide as he left them alone. “That was almost….”

  “Optimistic?” Dev supplied for her.

  Her lips quirked as she realised he’d supplied the last word for her.

  “Quite,” she added, her tone tart though her eyes danced with laughter.

  There was a crash and Charity gasped as a voice from the hallway called out, “I’m all right!”

  A moment later, Kit stumbled into the room.

  “Fell down the stairs” he said, beaming at them, a little worse for wear by now. Charity shook her head at him.

  “You’re foxed,” she said, laughing.

  “Not at all.” Kit gave a dignified sniff. “Missed my footing is all.” He spoiled his retort by almost sitting on the floor instead of a chair and Dev snorted with amusement.

  “Oh, by the way, Batty made up the master bedroom for you,” he said, snagging the remnants of a bottle Champagne and filling his glass.

  “Oh,” Charity said, surprised.

  Dev turned to her, knowing neither she nor her brother had liked to take the room for themselves before, but Kit held up a hand before she could object.

  “Do a fellow a favour, Charity. Your bedroom is next to mine, the master bedroom on the other side of the house. I don’t intend to spend the time it takes to build your house sleeping in the study.”

  Charity blushed scarlet as Dev smothered his mouth with his hand. He cleared his throat and got to his feet, tugging Charity with him. Dev held his hand out to Kit.

  “Good to be part of the family, Kit. You may be sure I’ll take good care of them… of all of you,” he amended, remembering the doctor he’d contacted in London.

  Kit looked a little disgusted. “You’re marrying my sister, not me. I don’t need looking after.”

  Charity rolled her eyes and muttered something contrary to that statement behind Dev’s back.

  “Still,” Kit said, magnanimous now. “I appreciate the sentiment.” He shook Dev’s hand and then waved them away. “Run along now, my children. I’m nicely stewed and my muse is calling.”

  Charity gave him a pitying look but bent to kiss the top of his head. “Goodnight, fool,” she said with affection.

  “Goodnight, harridan,” he replied, equally jovial.

  Dev climbed the stairs, Charity’s hand in his and feeling suddenly nervous, which seemed absurd but to his chagrin was true. He opened the door to the master bedroom but before Charity could step over the threshold, he swung her up into his arms.

  “Can’t buck tradition, can we?” he said, grinning at her as she clutched at his neck in surprise.

  “I think we already did,” she murmured, blushing a little as he carried her into the room and kicked the door shut. “I feel rather a fraud.”

  Dev frowned, shaking his head. “Don’t say that, love. It makes me feel you regret it.”

  “Oh, no, never that,” she said in a rush as he put her down again. “How could I?”

  “I’m glad.” He pulled her closer, one hand moving to cradle her head. “You’re still a little innocent, you know,” he said, his voice low and amused now. “And I will show you just how much you’ve yet to learn.”

  “Oh?” she replied, her eyes widening, her voice a little squeaky now.

  “Mm-hm,” he said, bending his head to kiss her neck. “I’ll be very instructive.”

  He backed her towards the bed until her knees met the mattress and she sat down with something of a thud.

  He looked down, pleased at the rapid rise and fall of her breasts as they pushed against the demure neckline of her gown. Dev got to his knees before her, taking her hands.

  “You really are mine now,�
�� he said, still feeling a peculiar rush of shock and delight run over him as the truth of it sank into his bones.

  Charity laughed at him, squeezing his fingers. “I always was, silly. Though I wasn’t always sure if I wanted to slap you or kiss you.”

  “Perhaps both?” he suggested, grinning at her.

  She nodded, her face grave. “Oh, certainly.”

  “Perhaps just kiss me tonight, break me in gently.”

  There was a teasing note to his voice and Charity pursed her lips, considering the idea.

  “Well,” she said, sounding somewhat reluctant. “Just for tonight, but I make no promises for the future.”

  “Fair enough,” he murmured against her lips.

  He slanted his mouth over hers, his heart and body alive and taut with love and desire as she opened to him, welcoming him. Her hands slid into his hair as he pulled her closer and Dev wondered at all the meaningless encounters he’d experienced in the years before Charity had entered his life. He’d never understood how different things could be with someone who held your heart.

  Dev pulled away from her with one last, gentle press of his mouth to hers. Giving her a wicked look designed to make her wonder what came next, he sat back and took her foot in his hand, removing her shoe. He caressed the arch of her foot and she sighed, a blissful sound that made him smile as he removed her other shoe and did the same.

  “Lay back,” he instructed her.

  She gave him a dubious look but did as he asked, and Dev slid his hands up her ankles, sliding his palms around her legs, curving around her calves before finding the soft skin of her thighs at the top of her stockings. He paused, pushing her skirts higher, hearing her breath catch.

  “No drawers, love,” he said, pleased to see the fashion for such things had not yet caught on in Dartmoor.

  She lifted herself on her elbows, looking down at him and looking as haughty as a duchess, never mind a viscountess.

  “Certainly not,” she said, scandalised. “They’re not at all proper.”

  Dev chuckled, enjoying the shiver that ran over her as his breath feathered over her skin. “I quite agree,” he murmured, reaching to untie her garters. He slid first one stocking from her leg, then the other, his hands smoothing over her skin as he did so before pressing a kiss to the silky skin of her inner thigh.