Chapter 15
Ellie had to restrain herself from reaching out and shaking him. Stubborn man! He was scowling in that domineering way of his, with his jaw clenched and his lips thinned. It was obvious that Damien thought he could fob her off with a lame explanation. He was entitled to his secrets, of course. But not when he’d dragged her into this one by his own extraordinary actions.
And not when he’d given her the most incredible kiss of her life.
Her insides still quivered from the impact of it. Never had she dreamed that a kiss could be so earth-shattering. Years ago, a would-be suitor had trapped her in a dark corner and pressed a dry, furtive peck to her lips. She had sent him packing with a blistering reprimand. The incident had fortified her belief that romance was for other women, and that she far preferred to devote herself to the make-believe world of Princess Arianna.
Now Ellie wondered if her decision had been premature. Nothing in her limited experience could have prepared her for Damien’s mouth on hers. Or for the shockingly invasive way in which he had reached into her bodice. His caress on her bare skin had ignited a melting pleasure that had consumed her whole body. If that was lust, she would have to devote some thought as to whether or not she really could live without it.
But not now.
Now, she felt a pressing need to understand him. Gazing at his closed features, she remembered his petrified expression as he’d dashed toward her on the parapet. She had been in no danger, yet he had reacted with abject horror. Then his arms had crushed her close, and his voice had been fraught with raw emotion. Thank God, you’re alive. Thank God, you’re safe.
It was unsettling to wonder whether he’d been speaking to her—or to someone from his past. What experience of his had sparked such an unnatural fear in him? Maybe he would never tell her. Maybe it was too private, too personal, and she was wrong to probe for answers.
As the fire hissed into the silence, Ellie began to regret the impulse that had made her kneel in front of him. Her attempt at entreaty clearly meant nothing to him.
“Well,” she said lightly, sitting on her heels and gazing up at him, “I don’t suppose I can force you to speak, Damien. We’re hardly friends, after all, and I’ve no real claim on your confidences.”
A peculiar regret lurked in the depths of her heart. But she reminded herself that he was the Demon Prince, the villainous rat who had abducted her. As remarkable as his kiss had been, it mustn’t be allowed to overshadow her plans for the future. For the past day, she had been pondering what to do when they departed the castle. Before Damien had come out onto the parapet, she’d been gazing at the stormy sea and considering how best to maneuver him into supporting the scheme that she had decided upon.
That was far more essential than exposing his secrets.
As she started to rise, Damien caught her by the shoulders. “Don’t go, Ellie, please,” he said gruffly. “I’ll tell you what happened. You do deserve to know.”
Ellie sank back, her full attention on his taut features. A thread of rough emotion in his voice belied his harsh, implacable expression. Very softly, she said, “I’m listening.”
He glanced away for a moment before fixing her with those cool green-gray eyes. “You heard about the scandal with the young lady seven years ago. I can assure you, the gossip was true. I was caught in a bedchamber with Miss Veronica Higgins. The fault was not hers. It was entirely mine.”
His gaze turned hazy as if he were peering into the past. “She was a delicate, blue-eyed blonde, shy and modest to a fault. From the moment I spied Veronica at a house party, I was determined to win her heart. She, of course, would have nothing to do with a notorious rake. So I laid wagers with a few cronies that I could make her fall in love with me.”
His mouth formed an ironic twist. “However, I was foolish enough to take matters beyond a mere flirtation. When we were found together, it wasn’t just me who was barred from society. Veronica, too, suffered the consequences. Not only did she lose her position as a companion to her aunt, she was shunned by her family. She had no recourse but to accept my offer of marriage.”
A knell of shock struck Ellie. “You’re married?”
He gave a sharp shake of his head. “Not any longer. I’m afraid it was not a happy union for either of us. I leased a house in the country as a means to escape the scandal. Even so, Veronica refused to show herself in public. She was weepy and disconsolate and … I cannot claim to have been a very considerate husband. To escape the endless melancholy, I began to stay away from home for much of the time.”
Damien paused to draw a deep breath, shifting his moody gaze back to the fire. “Late one night, I returned from an evening spent drinking in a local tavern with friends. I was leaving the stables, walking toward the house, when I glanced up and saw her. She was wearing a white nightdress. And she was standing on the edge of the roof.”
Ellie’s throat tightened. Her skin prickled with apprehension. She suddenly dreaded to hear what he had to say. “No.”
His voice flat and emotionless, he went on, “I realized later that it couldn’t have been a coincidence that I was there to witness her actions. Veronica must have been waiting for me to come home. Perhaps she climbed out onto the roof when she heard my horse coming up the drive. All I know is that when I shouted her name, she stepped off the roof. I ran to catch her … But I was too late.”
Aghast, Ellie reached out and covered his hands with hers. The look on his face was so bleak that she knew no words to offer as comfort. So she merely stroked his fingers, wishing there were some way to erase the grisly memory from his mind. His wife had taken her own life, and Damien clearly blamed himself. Ellie couldn’t fathom the grief and guilt he must have borne all these years.
No wonder he’d reacted so strongly to seeing her lean over the parapet. He must have been transported back to the moment of seeing his wife perched on the edge of the roof. He had relived that horror through Ellie, only this time, he had reached her in time. He had pulled her close and uttered fervently, Thank God, you’re alive. Thank God, you’re safe.
Had he been thinking of his wife when he’d kissed Ellie? Had she been merely a substitute?
Ellie pushed the questions away. How selfish to dwell on her own needs at such a time. “I’m so sorry, Damien. I never knew—”
“No one knew. I concealed her suicide.”
In an abrupt withdrawal, he surged up from the chair and paced across the circular chamber. He stood there with his back turned to Ellie. He combed his fingers through his hair, ruffling the black strands. He looked so tormented that her heart turned over in her breast. She ached to go to him, yet sensed he would reject any acknowledgment of his anguish. After giving him a moment to collect himself, she murmured, “How did you conceal it?”
He turned slowly. Once again, his features showed only a detached remoteness. “Finn had heard me shout her name. He came running. But Veronica had died instantly. There was nothing to be done for her. Finn said people would whisper that I’d killed her, pushed her off the roof myself. I’d be wrongfully imprisoned for murder. In my distraught state of mind, I agreed to let him arrange matters so that it would appear as though she’d been trampled by a horse.”
His voice grew heavier. “I convinced myself that I was doing it to protect her character. There were still a few whispers that I’d murdered her, but I suppose that was only to be expected given the circumstances of our forced marriage. However, most people treated me with all the respect due a grieving widower. And as the weeks passed, I began to realize that I was the one being protected. I was never held accountable for causing the despair that made Veronica take her own life.”
Ellie could see his point. From start to finish, his marriage had been a terrible disaster. It would never have happened if not for his disgraceful behavior. But he already knew that, so who was she to berate him more than he’d already done to himself?
And she couldn’t help but wonder why Veronica had felt such extreme despondency. Even if she’d been as delicate and shy as Damien had described her, and had had difficulty adjusting to the forced marriage, that was no reason to give up all hope. Why had she not found a useful occupation to lend purpose to her life? Perhaps she could have done needlework for the poor or prepared baskets for the sick. In such a circumstance, Ellie herself would have taken solace in her drawing. And she would have made Damien behave himself.
Her ankle ached from the uncustomary position on the floor. As she prepared to rise by bracing her hand on the chair, Damien was there in an instant to help her to her feet. “Lean on me,” he ordered. “I shouldn’t have allowed you to kneel so long. You ought to be in bed with your foot up.”
As he slid his arm around her waist and guided her across the room, Ellie glanced up at his sober features. No matter how much he painted himself the villain, she couldn’t imagine him being purposely cruel to his wife. “I agree with Finn,” she said. “I cannot see what good would have been accomplished by revealing the truth.”
Damien scowled as they stopped beside the bed. “You don’t understand. I should have been there that night. If only I’d stayed at home, perhaps—”
Ellie placed her finger over his lips. “Perhaps you’ve punished yourself enough, Damien. You can’t change what happened. None of us can. We can only try to learn from our mistakes.”
He gave her a grim look as he settled her on the bed. “But I haven’t learned. I ruined Veronica’s life, and now I’ve ruined yours.”
Watching him ease a pillow under her foot, Ellie felt the spark of a realization. This was her chance. The chance to present her scheme to him. She could not have planned it any better, for she had wanted to make him feel beholden to her so that he would comply with her wishes.
“Now that you mention it,” she said, “you have ruined my life. I very much doubt that I’ll be able to return home. My family isn’t likely to welcome me back considering I will have been gone for over a week in the company of a notorious scoundrel.”
Bending over her foot, Damien went very still. He cast a furious, incredulous look at her. “Are you angling for a marriage proposal?”
His mistaken assumption appalled Ellie. She had never anticipated him leaping to such a conclusion. When she had formulated her plan, she hadn’t known about his forced marriage. “No! Absolutely not! I only meant that you owe me reparations for abducting me.”
“Reparations.” He gave her a hard stare. The mattress dipped as he seated himself at the foot of the bed. “Explain yourself.”
She drew a fortifying breath, her fingers playing with the fringe on her shawl. It was time to reveal what she’d never told anyone else. “For a while now, I’ve been planning to leave my uncle’s house. That’s why I’ve been working on my storybook and hoping to sell it to a publisher. I need the income to live on my own rather than continue to stay there.”
“Why? Is it Walt? Has he made illicit advances toward you?”
Once again, Ellie was taken aback. Damien couldn’t possibly know that she often felt uneasy around her eldest cousin. “Well, he does stare at me … in a certain way. And…” She paused, recalling that last night in the nursery when Walt had grabbed at her bosom.
“And?”
“There was one time—only one—that he touched me, but I burned him with the candle I was holding and that was the end of it.”
Damien swore savagely under his breath. A muscle worked in his jaw as if he were struggling to master his anger. “And the others in the household? Have any of them mistreated you in any way?”
She hesitated. It felt disloyal to criticize her family. “Not really. I’ve always had a roof over my head and food on the table. When I was orphaned at fourteen, the earl was kind enough to take me in—”
“And he proceeded to treat you as an unpaid servant. Don’t deny it, Ellie. I’m well aware of Pennington’s reputation as a skinflint, and I saw how he garbed you in old sacks. I’m guessing he made you the household drudge and never paid you tuppence for your labor.”
Ellie bit her lip. Had her situation been so obvious? “It’s my duty to help the family. Anyway, I’ve always liked to stay busy. But I don’t wish to spend the remainder of my life doing someone else’s bidding.”
“So tell me, how exactly have you spent your days there?”
He was gently massaging her stockinged foot, and Ellie had to concentrate to keep her mind on the conversation. “Mostly, I’ve been governess to my two younger cousins. Now that Cedric is off at Eton, I’ve been chaperoning Beatrice, helping prepare her for her upcoming season. I also read to Lady Anne every day and do errands for the countess.”
“Ah, yes, old Lady Pennington,” Damien said with a cynical quirk of his mouth. “I recall that gorgon presiding over society parties. She’s your grandmother, is she not?”
“Yes, my father was the earl’s younger brother.”
“Then by God, she ought to have provided you with a decent wardrobe as befitting your rank. Were you granted a season at least? A chance to marry?”
She shook her head. “Actually not. You see, my father had enormous gambling debts that my uncle was forced to pay off. He said there was nothing left to pay for my come-out.”
“That miserly snake,” Damien snapped. “Your father’s debts were not your fault, Ellie. And Pennington is a wealthy man. He has more than enough to sponsor his own niece.”
The vehemence in his tone warmed Ellie’s heart. With a faint smile, she murmured, “You needn’t rub my foot quite so hard, you know.”
Looking instantly remorseful, he drew back his hands. “Forgive me. I was contemplating how I’d love to wring your uncle’s neck.”
She mustn’t feel all aglow inside when Damien had just proposed violence. Or regret that he was no longer touching her. “Well, I don’t suppose it matters anymore. I’m twenty-six now and quite content to be a spinster. Had I been given the opportunity to marry at eighteen, I might never have been inspired to compose my storybook.”
He sat against the bedpost with one foot braced on the floor. The gleam in those green-gray eyes made her heart beat faster. “Continuing your logic,” he said, “you also wouldn’t be here right now. With me.”
The glow settled deep in her core. It brought to mind that kiss … and the shocking pleasure of his hand stroking her bosom. Was he, too, remembering it? Ellie wouldn’t allow herself to think about that now. If she became distracted, she might lose this opportunity.
“And I wouldn’t be in such a pickle,” she said. “But since you did bring me here against my will, it seems only fair that you should compensate me for the damage to my reputation.”
His face sobered. “Are you certain the earl will throw you out on the street without any provision whatsoever? Is there no one in that blasted household who would care enough to help you?”
Thinking of her family, Ellie felt a pang. She had little faith in receiving any aid from her uncle, her grandmother, Beatrice, Walt … “Lady Anne would, I’m sure. But like me, she lives there on the earl’s sufferance and has only a bit of pin money.”
“Lady Anne?”
“The earl’s spinster sister-in-law. She’s no blood relation to me, but she’s always been very kind and appreciative that I read to her each morning while she sews.” Ellie stared defiantly at him. “I will not ask her for funds when she has so little herself.”
“I should hope not. Tell me, what is it you wish from me?”
His cool masculine features provided no clue to his thoughts. He might have been a businessman negotiating a hard bargain. Yet she felt no hesitation at sharing her dream with him. “I want to live in a cottage in the country. Someplace cozy and bright, where I might gaze out upon the garden while I draw. A home where I can work alone all day without anyone handing me an overflowing basket of mending, or ordering me to write out a hundred invitations to a party.”
He lifted a black eyebrow. “You want no one there with you? Not even a servant?”
“No one,” she said firmly. “I am perfectly capable of doing any necessary chores myself. You see, more than anything, I crave peace and quiet so that I might concentrate on my book.”
“And I am to provide you with this cottage.” He subjected her to a long scrutiny while she waited anxiously, her fingers twisting the fringe of her shawl. “All right, then,” he said, “I’m sure it can be arranged. I’ll direct my land agent to handle the matter upon our return to London.”
Ellie felt as if a vast weight had been lifted from her shoulders. For so long she had been worried about the future. But she mustn’t rejoice just yet. “You’ll also provide me with a small stipend to cover my expenses for the coming year.”
He chuckled. “Small? You need to learn lesson one in the art of negotiation—always ask for more than you really want.”
“I won’t play games, Damien. I only need enough to purchase food and other incidentals. Until I can sell my book.”
“And if you cannot procure a publisher? What will you do then?”
“I’ll take in students if need be. I’ll find a way to support myself. But I do hope that won’t be necessary.” The leather-bound notebook lay beside her on the bed. Picking it up, Ellie riffled through her newest drawings, the ones she’d sketched since her dispute with him the previous afternoon. “By the way, I’ve been thinking about the suggestion you made to me yesterday…”
He leaned forward, his gaze intent. “Ellie, you must allow me to apologize for that. I should never have presumed to pass judgment on a manuscript that I haven’t even seen.”
“You’re right, you shouldn’t have,” she said tartly. “However, I’ve decided it’s a sound proposal, after all. It’ll take quite a bit of work, but it is possible to break the story into four or five separate books—perhaps more. I’ll have the leisure to work on the revisions once I’m living on my own.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Then you do see the advantage of it?”
“Yes. I’ll know for certain once I can review the pages I’ve already done. I left them hidden in my bedchamber at Pennington House.”
Would Uncle Basil even allow her through the front door? Perhaps he’d already instructed the servants to refuse her admittance …
“Hidden?” Damien asked with a frown. “So your family knows nothing about your book?”
She shook her head. “They’d be horrified at the prospect of me selling my work to a publisher. Ladies never engage in commerce, you see. I did my drawing late in the evenings, after Beatrice went to bed. In the hustle and bustle of the day, when everyone was making demands on me, it was always my little secret, something that belonged to me alone.”
He regarded her with frank admiration. “The true secret is that you’re a strong, accomplished woman, Ellie. I pity them for never realizing it.”
That warm glow flared inside Ellie again. It made her skin tingle and her heartbeat quicken. Damien had awakened feelings in her that she hadn’t known existed, and it was more than just that lusty kiss. A connection had formed between them, perhaps because they’d both suffered undeserved misfortune in their childhood, he being abandoned by his birth parents, and she as an orphan forced to live with relatives who did not love her. They knew each other’s secrets now, too. She about his late wife, and he about her book.
But he was merely a charming rogue, Ellie reminded herself, as he took the notebook from her, examined her latest drawings with interest, and proceeded to make a clever case for Prince Ratworth to be a hero rather than a villain. She couldn’t help laughing at his inventive ideas to give his likeness a larger role in the story.
All the while, she found herself observing the economical movement of his hand as he turned the pages, the quirk of his lips whenever he told a jest, the way his expression softened sometimes when he looked at her. His every mannerism fascinated her, and the undeniable warmth she felt for him warred with her practical side.
It would be foolish to fall prey to his allure. The Demon Prince had committed the villainous act of abducting her, bringing her here against her will. Nothing could ever come of their unexpected friendship. Once they left the castle, they would part ways. Damien would return to his London gambling den and she would move into her cottage.
Yet the memory of that passionate kiss burned like a flame within her. In spite of all wisdom to the contrary, he had become a fire in her blood. She couldn’t abide the thought of never again feeling his lips on her mouth, or his hands on her body. And the longer they sat talking and bantering on her bed, the more she found herself daring to ponder the unthinkable.