It was finally his turn to have it all.
They turned at the landing to the second half of the stairs, and Devereaux glanced out the window at the valley beyond. The Potomac slipped along, the hills rose again in West Virginia, and there were the rails, with the puff of a train on its way to Cumberland.
His fingers tightened around the handle of his valise. All his…but the enemy was ready to pounce at one wrong move. He could lose everything. If their plans went awry, if he was caught while undertaking this task, the penalties would be severe. And then where would he be? He could lose the house, his stake in the railroad, and Marietta…?
He clenched his teeth. She was loyal, at least enough to honor her word. Her Yankee-loving father had certainly instilled that in her. Hence why, try as he might to lure her away from Lucien, she had never once crossed any bounds of propriety.
Once she was his wife, she would honor that. Forever, no matter what. If he were arrested, she would wait for him. If his reputation suffered and they had to move to Mother’s home in Louisiana, she would go with him.
And so they must wed before he undertook anything too dangerous. Because he would not—would not—risk losing her. He must marry her and get her with child quickly to tie her even tighter to him. Perhaps, with a bit of luck, that night a month ago…but she would have said something already, if that were so. Wouldn’t she have?
“Will your wife be joining you?” Ruby turned to the right at the top of the stairs, slanting a flirtatious smile at him over her shoulder. Was the girl a mind reader?
Regardless, subtlety apparently failed to interest her. Or perhaps she just hadn’t yet learned the full art of her chosen trade. Devereaux let his lips turn up. “I imagine I will bring my intended here sometime after we have wed, yes. But not this trip.”
“Oh, you are engaged?” Rather than looking put off, Ruby’s smile went brighter.
“I am.”
“And here we are.” Ruby flounced to a halt just inside the door to a spacious, well-lit room. The flutter of her lashes drew his gaze to her face, and once there, it lingered on her smile. “I’m certain you’ll find the room comfortable.”
“It’s perfect.” He stepped into the chamber and set his bag down upon a chair. When he looked her way again, he found her twirling a midnight curl around her finger.
“If there’s anything else you need, Mr. Hughes, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Devereaux hooked a thumb in his pocket and measured her. For the mere fun of it, he eased closer and watched her eyes go sharp. “Oh, I wouldn’t hesitate.”
She cleared her throat and slid a step over, to the door. Her smile didn’t falter, but the confidence in her gaze certainly did. Just as he thought. She was all flirtation with no actual experience.
Ah, well. He didn’t need to dally with some pretty bumpkin when he would have Marietta so soon.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs, and Ruby seized the excuse to turn around. “Judah?”
The boy who darted down the hall looked the part of her brother, to be sure. The same black hair, the same blue eyes, the same well-crafted face. He was probably thirteen or fourteen, and he offered Devereaux an open, bright smile. “I fed your horse, sir, and gave her a quick once-over. Looks like her back right shoe is coming loose. You want me to walk her down to the smithy?”
The blacksmith was a man he needed to meet anyway. That particular skill could come in handy when it came time to set out the clues for the Knights. He grinned at the boy and tossed him a coin. “If you could just show me the way, I’ll walk her myself.”
Judah caught the coin with sparkling eyes. “Yes, sir, Mr. Hughes, sir. Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now.” Focusing then upon the retreating back of the boy, Devereaux strode past the girl and down the stairs.
Within ten minutes, he and the talkative Judah, who kept up a steady monologue on all the neighbors Devereaux had no interest in knowing, arrived at the smithy with his rented mount.
Steel rang on steel somewhere within, and the heat of the forge warmed him the moment he stepped inside. Judah didn’t wait to be noticed. He called out, “Mr. Mason!”
The ringing ceased, but the man who emerged from the depths of the building looked none too happy at the interruption. At least until he spotted Devereaux beside his neighbor. Then he managed a nod. “Morning.”
Judah grinned. “Morning, Mr. Mason. This is our guest, Mr. Hughes. His horse is gonna need a reshoeing.”
Mason let out a puff of air through his lips, all pretense of welcome gone. “It’s going to be a while. Been backed up something terrible since that blasted Negro took off on me.”