An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
Exodus 21:24
Dinner turned out to be a delightful, intimate affair that Devan enjoyed sharing with Avalon and her family. Thane had been enthralled with every word he said, and the same could be said about Lady Sophia.
However, Avalon reigned over the head of the table like a queen, one who sat consumed with dark thoughts. Devan could practically see the gloomy gray clouds of worry appearing over her head. She ate practically nothing, added little to the conversation, and when the meal was at an end, she’d escorted them to a private salon adjacent to the small dining room.
Thane eagerly found a chess set, one that had to be worth a small fortune. Every piece had a burnished gold-leaf bottom that captured the glow of the fire, making the pieces almost appear as if alive when they moved across the board.
Sophia sat comfortably next to Thane and read a novel while Devan started teaching the young marquess how to play the game. Devan’s seat on the navy brocade sofa was strategically located so he could gaze at Avalon while still conversing with Thane and Sophia.
Avalon sat in profile on a small velvet chaise longue before the fire. Occasionally, Thane would ask his mother a question. She’d answer, but only after dragging herself from thoughts that seemed to hold her captive. Eventually, Sophia announced she would retire, leaving Devan with Thane and a very-distant Avalon.
“Mr. Farris, come to dinner tomorrow?” Thane’s eyes blazed in the reflection of the warm fire as he replaced the pieces in their wooden box. “We could continue our game.”
“Perhaps,” he answered noncommittally. He’d like nothing more than to attend the family again, but Avalon might not like the familiarity of his presence on a regular basis at her dining table. “Do you ride?”
Thane dipped his head in a feigned sudden interest in the white knight. “I love to ride, but Maman only allows it when she’s at the stables with me. She’s so busy that I don’t get to ride as much as I’d like.”
Devan studied the boy. “Do you have your own horse?”
“I have a pony named Aster. I’m anxious for a horse”—he let out a soulful sigh—“but everything in time. Maman just gave permission for a puppy. Perhaps I should have asked for a horse.”
Devan leaned close. “Sometime this week, I’ll stop by and you could show me your stables. Perhaps we could find a suitable mount for you there.”
Thane’s eyes grew wide. “Would you? There’s a beautiful gray mare by the name of Storm who’s gentle and sweet. I feed her treats every day. Perhaps with your help, I could convince my mother to let me ride her.”
It was the first time that Devan could recall the boy referring to his mother as such. Though the French endearment of maman had nothing wrong with it, a boy Thane’s age and position in society had to be careful of referring to his mother as such. The boys at Eton would tease him endlessly if they heard such a term used by a marquess.
Devan’s attentions returned to Avalon, and the need to draw her out of her melancholy grew acute. Avalon had shifted positions. She leaned into the corner of the chaise longue and her head rested on the back. “Lady Warwyk?”
She didn’t move an inch at Devan’s gentle inquiry.
“She’s asleep.” Thane stole a glance at his mother. “She falls asleep down here all the time. Sometimes if I wake up in the middle of the night, I find her there, curled up. I keep a coverlet hidden under her chair in case she’s cold.”
Devan nodded. “That’s what the man of the house should do. Take care of his family.”
Thane sat a little straighter at Devan’s praise.
“Do you ever wake her up so she can go to bed?”
Thane shook his head. “I have in the past. She just smiles and says, ‘Thank you, but I’d rather stay here.’ I don’t think she likes her bedroom.” Without another word, he stood and walked to his mother. He leaned over and pulled a velvet throw from under the chaise longue. Carefully, so as to not wake her, he spread it over her sleeping form, then kissed the top of her forehead.
He returned to Devan’s side and smiled sheepishly. “I don’t want her to catch a chill.”
Before Devan could respond, Mr. Neville entered the sitting room. “Vicar,” he said quietly.
Devan stood, and along with Thane, they walked to Mr. Neville.
“One of the footmen has returned from Mrs. Dozier’s home. The midwife has asked for your attendance. Mrs. Dozier delivered the babe, but Mrs. Jennings fears the babe needs you.”
That could only mean one thing. The midwife didn’t believe the child would make it through the night. “Any word on how Mrs. Dozier is doing?”
Mr. Neville shook his head. “The footman is waiting in the hallway to escort you. Mrs. Jennings asked if the marchioness could come.”
Devan glanced at Avalon. She hadn’t moved an inch from her position, still asleep. “I think it best if we allow Lady Warwyk rest. It’s been an eventful and upsetting day. I’d hate to cause her any further distress by asking her to come with me this evening. I can stop by in the morning with news.”
Mr. Neville nodded.
Thane sidled close to Devan’s side. “May I go with you?”
Devan squeezed his shoulder. “I think it would be best, my lord, if you kept watch over your mother.”
Thane reluctantly nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you in the morning.” He turned his full gaze to Devan. “I’m so glad you’re ours. I know my mother is too.”
Such simple words, but the power of the boy’s statement filled an emptiness in Devan that had been his companion for years. “There’s no place else I’d rather be, my lord.”
And he meant it. A certain perplexing marchioness had somehow woven her way into his life.
If he wasn’t careful, she’d use her witchery and steal her way into his heart.
The continuous bonging of the longcase clock woke Avalon. She tried to count how many chimes, but she had to have missed some. She swung her legs over the chaise longue, then stood. The velvet coverlet Thane hid for her fell into a plush heap on the floor. She made quick work of folding it, then put it back in its hiding place, all the while smiling at her son’s thoughtfulness.
When had Devan left and what did he think of her, his hostess who fell asleep after inviting him into her home for dinner?
Really, did she care?
The truth was she did. Not only did she want his good opinion for herself so her work could continue in Thistledown, but she wanted him to agree with her about Thane’s future education. She stretched her hands over her head in an attempt to get the crick out of her neck, then glanced at the clock that had made the infernal racket that woke her up.
Just past midnight, the night was still young and the fire robust in her sitting room. One of the footmen must have built the fire up to keep her in comfort. She felt a warm glow flow through her. Naturally, it was from the fire but also gratitude that her staff cared enough about Sophia, Thane, and herself to see to their comfort always.
Avalon went in search of Mr. Neville. He always stayed up as long as she was downstairs. She’d tried to break him of the habit years ago, but he refused. He’d always reminded her that while he was butler at Warwyk Hall, he’d be the last to go to bed.
She found the stalwart butler with a footman. “Mr. Neville, when did the vicar leave?”
“My lady,” he acknowledged with a slight bow. “Mr. Farris left a little after nine o’clock. Mrs. Jennings called for him and you. Mrs. Dozier delivered the baby.” He bowed solemnly. “The midwife wasn’t certain the baby would last through the night.”
Her heart fell to the bottom of her chest. Annie couldn’t bear much more grief in her life. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Mr. Farris instructed that you sleep,” Mr. Neville answered sheepishly.
“Since when does he employ you?” Immediately, she wanted to withdraw the words. “We’ll discuss this when I return.” She turned her attention to the footman who stood next to the butler.
The young man’s gaze fell to the floor.
“Will you fetch my cloak and gloves?”
“My lady, if I may be so bold?” Mr. Neville clasped his hands in front of him. “I didn’t mean to overstep my authority, but you were so exhausted.”
“It’s fine.” She let out a tremulous sigh. The only thing she wanted to address at the moment was the walk to Annie’s cottage.
When the footman, Jasper, returned with her things and a lantern, she asked for his company on the walk. They didn’t speak along the way as Avalon repeated a prayer over and over asking for mercy for the Dozier family. Within a quarter hour, they stood outside Annie’s home. She knocked, then let herself inside.
Jasper stood on the doorstep waiting for his instruction. “My lady, shall I stay?”
She shook her head. “There’s no need. I’ll stay here until daybreak.”
He nodded, then turned for home. Inside the main sitting area, the midwife’s daughter sat at the kitchen table with her head resting on her folded arms. Fearing the worst, Avalon rushed into Annie’s room.
Mrs. Jennings was the first to notice her and waved in welcome. “Come in, my lady,” she said in a whisper.
Avalon’s gaze darted to Annie. The woman sat in her bed with a tiny bundle close to her chest. “Come, my lady, and meet my daughter. I’ve named her Nessa after my James’s mother.” The joy on her face melted any remaining tinges of illness.
Avalon sat on the bed next to Annie, and the new mother tilted the bundle in her direction. A tiny red-faced baby appeared. Avalon stroked the newborn’s soft cheek with the back of her finger. “She’s beautiful, Annie.”
Annie nodded in response, then tears welled in her eyes. “We were worried about her earlier as her breathing was shallow. But once the vicar arrived and said a prayer for Nessa and me, she started getting stronger. I don’t know how to thank you. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I don’t know what would have happened to us.”
“Don’t thank me.” Avalon felt the guilt start to raise its ugly head. “I should have been here sooner.” She placed her hand on Annie’s arm and squeezed gently. “I promise I’ll stop by more frequently.”
She caught Devan staring at her from across the room. Instinctively, she returned the stare before she recovered her manners and turned to the midwife. “What can I do to help, Mrs. Jennings?”
“My lady, we’re fine here. Patricia is sleeping in the front room, and I’m going to make a cot beside Annie and Nessa. We all need a good night’s sleep to set everyone back to rights.” She turned to the vicar. “I believe Mr. Farris was just about to leave also.”
“Indeed.” Devan pushed away from the wall. “If your footman or lady’s maid is not in attendance, Lady Warwyk, then allow me to escort you home.”
Ignoring him, she said goodbye to Annie and Mrs. Jennings. Without waiting for Devan, she walked out the front door, then proceeded in the direction of Warwyk Hall.
“Lady Warwyk,” he called out behind her.
In response, she walked faster away from him. Thankfully, the wind had died down so she wasn’t fighting against it, too.
“Avalon,” he said directly behind her. “Wait.”
Suddenly, she stopped and turned around, almost bumping into him. The force of her movement caused her cloak to whip around her legs in an angry movement. “Don’t you dare ever try to circumvent my actions again, Vicar.”
The befuddlement on his face would have been amusing if she wasn’t so livid. Not since Richard had sent her to Warwyk Hall after they were married while he frolicked in London had she ever been this angry.
“And pray tell, what has brought out this mood, Lady Warlock?” Though it was night, the moon was bright enough that she could see his face where one arrogant but perfect eyebrow arched. “I thought we were long since past this.” He tilted his head and stared into the sky. “But that explains it. It’s a full moon tonight.”
“You sanctimonious, pompous arse,” she seethed. “How dare you try to undermine my authority and my right to do as I please.”
He rubbed a gloved hand down his face. She could hear the leather scraping the evening bristle that had grown since yesterday morning when he’d probably last bathed and shaved. “Help me, Avalon. What have I done?”
She leaned a little closer, and he matched her movement. His eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and she puffed a stream of white steam in exasperation.
“Mrs. Jennings asked me to come to Annie’s the same as you. You unilaterally made the decision that I was to stay home.”
“You were asleep,” he offered.
“It wasn’t your decision.” She kept her voice low, but it trembled in outrage. “I make my own decisions, and no man will ever take that right away from me ever again. Do you understand? Never again.” She pointed her forefinger toward the middle of her chest. “I can see into the hearts of others, and I know you were trying to usurp my authority. I will not stand for any of your manipulations, sir.” Her eyes skated from the top of his head to his boots. A moue of displeasure curled her lips.
Silence descended between them as the last of her clipped words disappeared like a puff of smoke into the night. He stood close enough that she could feel his warmth. Only inches separated them, but at the moment the chasm between them had to be wider than a mile.
He studied her with a seriousness that made her want to run and hide in fear he’d discover everything about her—all the hurts and fears she’d suffered in the past along with all her hopes for the future.
Immediately, she covered her mouth with her hand. She’d allowed her innermost thoughts to slip free.
“Something tells me we’re talking about more than my decision to let you sleep after you came home exhausted from Mrs. Dozier’s last night.” The softness in his voice made her even more wary.
She stood frozen.
“Tell me,” he coaxed.
The smoothness in his voice, like a perfect panel of silk, floated over her, encouraging her to confide in him. It begged the question whether all clergymen possessed such dangerous talent or was it just him, a silver-tongued devil who could lure all the snakes out of Egypt.
She willed herself to fight against such magic and against him. To say anything to Devan Farris about her experiences with Richard or the Earl of Larkton, or even how her own father had circumvented the happiness of his own daughter by betrothing her to Warwyk for purely mercenary reasons could impact Thane’s future. Larkton could call her unfit to make any decisions for Thane since she despised men in authority. Because she wouldn’t bend to a man’s erroneous belief that he had an inherent right to make decisions for her. She’d fight to her last breath before she’d allow any man to take control of her son.
How could she have lowered her guard around Devan Farris earlier? It was as if she wanted him to charm her. For heaven’s sake, she’d practically begged him to come to dinner with the excuse that Thane would be disappointed. The truth was she didn’t want him to go for her own selfish reasons. She’d found strength in his presence at Annie’s.
She’d found comfort in his arms. She’d allowed herself to think of him as a friend and perhaps something more.
For God’s sake, what was happening to her? Every piece of common sense she possessed flew down the road in chase after Mr. Devan Farris like autumn leaves caught in a gust.
“Avalon, tell me.” He took one of her hands in his and intertwined their fingers together.
Such a simple action possessed so many different meanings. Lovers held hands like that when they couldn’t keep away from one another. Sweethearts who were just discovering the depth of their feelings might twist their fingers together as if testing how the description of beloveds fit them. Of course, friends held hands in a show of tenderness, understanding, or simply true concern.
None of those terms described her and Devan, so she snatched her hand from his. Such a show of affection was probably an everyday occurrence to him as a flirt. But that didn’t diminish the loss of his touch. Her throat tightened and her eyes stung. Suddenly, everything turned blurry.
Were those tears?
She quickly wiped her eyes against the cloak covering one arm. She was turning into a simpering fool, and it was all Devan Farris’s fault.
“What have I done?” He held his arms out away from his body. “What do you want?”
“I want you to leave me alone.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen,” he answered.
“How much money is it going to take for you to leave me alone?” she hissed.
“How much do you have?” He lifted both brows, waiting for her answer. “Larkton wants me to become a rector. You need to make it worth my while for me to say yes.”
“More than enough, you despicable lout,” she said, keeping her gaze glued to his. “Rector,” she scoffed. “More like rectum.”
“I didn’t wreck them.” He lifted an arrogant brow, but his lips twitched in mirth. “For your information, I killed them.” Then as if he couldn’t help himself, Devan laughed aloud as if enjoying her name-calling. “What a charming sense of humor you possess for a warlock. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you’re growing sweet on me.”
“You’re delusional,” she retorted.
“Someone needs to expand their vocabulary out of the d’s. Tomorrow, I can tutor you.” That aggravating lopsided grin appeared. “I wager we can finish the e’s if you work hard.”
“You’re diabolical,” she murmured.
“I heard that,” he quipped. “But no need to show your prowess on the d’s. Remember I’ve heard you call me the devil before.”
She pursed her lips into a thin line. The man drove her crazy. “I now understand your role in our community.”
“Oh?” He tilted his head and smiled. The grin emphasized his full lower lip.
For an outrageous moment, she wanted to bite it. “Indeed. Mr. Greatwell’s livestock won’t be needed for next year’s nativity scene. You can easily stand in for his prized ass.”
Instead of her words angering him, his smile grew even bigger. “Wonderful. It means you still want me here. I’ll be in your delightful and witty company for another year.”
“You are a dreadful menace. You endanger anyone’s sanity if they spend any time at all conversing with you.”
“An e word.” He winked at her. “Bully for you. You’ll be a star pupil in no time.” He held out his arm for her to take so they could continue on their way.
She slowly examined his arm, then turned up her nose.
It was all she could offer to end their ridiculous conversation. Without a look back, she made a half turn and continued on her way toward Warwyk Hall.
“Avalon, wait. I’ll see you home.”
“There’s no need, nor do I want you to, Vicar.” She pulled the neck of her cloak a little tighter.
“There’s every need.” The silkiness of his voice seemed to surround her. “What if you fall?”
“Suit yourself.” Avalon turned abruptly and locked her gaze with his. “But if you fall, you’re on your own.”
Completely perplexed, Devan had no choice but to follow Avalon to Warwyk Hall. He purposely stayed a good ten or twenty yards behind her. After she’d left him, clearly upset, he couldn’t as a gentleman allow her to make her way in the dark. Not that there was anything that could hurt her, but if she fell and sprained her ankle, he wanted to be there for her. She’d known he was there. Several times she’d turned around to see where he was. She never said a word. Afterward, she’d faced forward and continued on her way.
When they reached the massive courtyard that surrounded the Palladian manor house, he’d hung back until she mounted the steps and was safely inside.
Moments later, a footman ran toward him. “Vicar?” The man held out a lantern. “Lady Warwyk asked that I give you this. She said she didn’t want you to worry about falling.”
The words punched him in the gut, and he grinned. The way back to the vicarage led through a small forest that would be pitch-black even with a full moon. “Tell Lady Warwyk I appreciate the gesture.”
Devan turned and took the path toward home, slowly shaking his head. Though she was clearly angry, she’d not see him hurt either. His chest tightened. He’d seen her cross with him through the years, but never once had he seen tears of frustration and anger mar her face. The sight had practically brought him to his knees. She was such a strong woman and for her to be that upset, he’d hit a wound that had never healed.
In fact, he’d sliced it right open.
He’d hope by teasing her that she’d forget whatever had upset her. He’d seen enough in his years as a man of the church to know that her sorrow came from a place deep inside, and he doubted she’d ever shared any of it with anyone she was close to. Her sister and son didn’t seem to be affected by such trouble, but her son was sensitive enough to know that something bothered his mother. It was apparent to the young lord that whatever haunted his mother kept her from attaining any type of happiness for herself—including marriage.
Indeed, why would a beautiful young woman like her still be unmarried? Many a woman who’d lost their husbands had played the merry widow, but not Avalon. If anything, with her purported outlandish spending habits, she played the merry widow before her husband had died.
When Devan had seen her last spring at Lady Prydwell’s soiree, she’d seemed cool and calm. They’d even talked briefly. Though he called her Lady Warlock to her face, her anger hadn’t made an appearance as it had tonight.
She hid her fragility well, but she’d exposed herself tonight. He’d have to be more careful with her as he discovered her secrets. The first meeting of the Ladies Auxiliary since he’d arrived into town was scheduled for Wednesday afternoon.
For some reason, he thought they might be able to help other. She’d help him find a place within her community, and he’d help her battle the loneliness that seemed to be her ever-present companion.
He’d just have to tame his wild urges to kiss her until he cracked that protective veneer she surrounded herself with.
Unfortunately, his urges were growing stronger.
Or maybe it was fortune smiling down on him.
Heaven did move in mysterious ways.