Ladies of Deception 03 - Betraying the Highwayman (17 page)

Sunday, June 19, 1814

Devon smiled as he approached the stables at Westbrooke Hall. He always loved returning home and seeing the familiar brick dwelling, but today he was particularly excited to return. Since receiving Lord Grayson's dinner party invitation, he had felt a renewed purpose in his life, if only short term. He was convinced that the money he had won from his father would either still be at his house somewhere or he had used it to invest in his friend's investment. Either way he was hoping to garner some new information on where the money had gone.

But the real reason for his excitement was getting to see Sister Genevieve again. When he had left Westbrooke Hall after she had refused to consider his offer, he had planned on not seeing her again, but this gave him the perfect excuse. He dismounted Calvin, then handed him over to the stable boy, before sauntering off towards home.

Entering the house, Clarence greeted him, not appearing the least bit surprised by his presence. He stood in the hall momentarily debating on what he should do first. His greatest desire was to see Sister Genevieve, but his growling stomach was becoming quite bothersome. He made the decision to go to the kitchen and fetch a bite to eat before attempting to find her.

Walking into the kitchen, his only regret was not informing Tabitha of his visit beforehand so she could have a gooseberry pie waiting for him. The absence of the delicious aroma was noticeable, but not for long, as he became distracted by the scene in front of him. Standing at the butcher block in the center of the room was Sister Genevieve, and she was covered in flour, as Tabitha was busy instructing her to knead the dough that was sitting on the counter in front of her. Sister Genevieve laughed as she repeatedly punched her small fist into the dough.

Devon couldn't resist joining in the laughter. Stepping further into the kitchen he said, “Take it easy on that poor dough. We want it to be edible.”

Tabitha and Sister Genevieve startled at his presence. Tabitha began wiping her thick hands on her apron while Sister Genevieve stared at Devon speechless.

“You startled my old heart. How come you didn't let me know you were coming? I would have had a pie waiting.” Tabitha gently scolded.

“Please accept my apologies. I should have known better. I am, however, starving. Do you have anything I might be able to eat?”

“But of course, I'll fix you up a plate right now. Just have a seat.” Tabitha scurried to the other side of the kitchen, as always anxious to please him.

Devon did as she instructed, sitting in the stool directly opposite where Sister Genevieve was sitting. She continued to stare at him, her mouth parted slightly as if she wished to speak, though no words came out.

Devon smiled at her, enjoying the way she looked with flour smudged across her nose, hiding some of her freckles. “How are you doing Sister Genevieve?”

“I wasn't expecting you to...that is I hadn't thought I'd see you again. Are you here because you have word for me?” she tried to inquire coyly.

Just then Tabitha returned and placed a plate of various meats and cheeses in front of him. “Thank you, Tabitha. I think I will take this to the library to eat. If anyone needs me, that's where I will be.” Devon rose and grabbed his plate and walked out of the kitchen. He hoped that Sister Genevieve could take the hint and would meet him there shortly so he could discuss things with her in private.

Making himself comfortable on the couch in the library, he eagerly began ingesting his food. He was amazed at how much of an appetite he could work up during the three hour drive from London.

He had just finished stuffing the last bit of cheese into his mouth, when he heard the door open. Looking up he saw Sister Genevieve smiling down at him.

“Yes?” he asked beyond the food still in his mouth.

“For a man that doesn't like to read, you spend a fair amount of time in the library.”

Devon hurried and swallowed his bite of food. “I never said I don't like reading, just that I don't do it very often. Besides, I figured it would be a good place for us to talk uninterrupted, since no one ever seems to come in here much.”

Sister Genevieve nodded then walked over to sit in a chair across from the couch. “Have you come to tell me you've arranged my passage to America?”

Devon's face fell. “Not exactly, but there is something else of great import I need to discuss with you.”

“Devon,” she said impatiently. “We had a bargain and I'm beginning to think you don't mean to keep your end. I'm growing impatient. I would never have agreed to come here and care for your father if you hadn't agreed to assist me.”

“I know. You must believe me when I tell you that I'm not intentionally putting it off. Some complications arose, and it's just taking me a bit longer to figure everything out.” He leaned back in the corner of the couch and absently began rubbing the scar on his arm.

Sister Genevieve shot up. “I'm sorry I forgot to inquire about your arm. Is everything well? Has it healed up nicely?”

Devon's arm was just fine, thanks to her, but the thought of her soft hands on his bare skin tempted him into saying, “I think you better take a look at it, just to be safe.”

She came over and sat on the couch next to him and instructed him to remove his shirt, although he noticed she couldn't do it without blushing furiously. After all they had been through together, it was refreshing to see that his naked torso still affected her so.

Once his shirt was removed, she leaned in close to take a look. She moved her hand gently over the raised, red scar and Devon shivered in response to her touch. He knew that she had noticed but was grateful when she refrained from mentioning it. It felt so good to feel her hands on his skin but the temptation to take her into his arms was too great. He finally broke the silence by asking, “How does it look?”

“Splendid, actually. You'll always have a scar, but it's nothing too ghastly.”

“That's a relief.” Devon wasn't sure if he imagined it or not, but it seemed as if Sister Genevieve was just as hesitant to remove her hands from his arm as he was for having her do so.

Finally, she pulled back and he reluctantly pulled his shirt over his head to make them both more comfortable. “I know you have done a lot for me, but I have another favor to ask of you, a big one.”

“Please do not tell me you have more sick relatives that need nursing. I'm not certain my sanity could handle that.”

Devon chuckled. “No, it's nothing quite as deplorable as that. I need you to escort me to a dinner party.”

Sister Genevieve scooted back from him, shaking her head furiously. “No, I cannot do that...I'm a nun. It's not proper. Besides, you wouldn't want to show up with a nun in tow anyhow.”

“You're right,” he said and watched as she exhaled in relief. “I don't want a nun to escort me, but I do need a beautiful lady to do so.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need you to escort me dressed as a lady. One of the men who has won a significant amount of my father's money has invited me to attend a dinner party at his residence. It's the perfect opportunity to search for the missing money or at least try to find out what he might have done with it.”

Sister Genevieve surprised him by laughing. “You can't just go into somebody's house and start looking for money. And what would you do if, by chance, you found it, stuff it into your pocket and walk away? This is a ridiculous plan.”

“No that's not what I plan to do. I need you to go with me so I can distract the host while you take a look around. I know the exact amount of money that he won, so I'll need you to look for that amount or anything that might indicate what he did with it.”

“I still don't think it's a very wise plan.”

Devon's shoulders sagged. “I know, but it's the only one I've got. It may not be worth much, but I have a hunch that there's more going on with this man than he's letting on. All I'm asking is one evening of your life. I would do it myself, but I can't just leave the party for any length of time without raising suspicion. You, on the other hand, could excuse yourself to see to some personal needs and nobody would question your absence. Please, I need your help with this.”

“Devon, I've already given you nearly two months of my life when we previously agreed to only one.”

“I know, but you must believe me when I say I'm working on it. I would have had your trip all arranged if it hadn't been for the accident,” he said, indicating his arm.

“I apologize, but there is no way I can do it.”

Devon leaned forward, grabbing both of her hands in his, his eyes pleading with her to assist him in his endeavor. “Sister Genevieve, I would not ask you to do this if there was any other way. You are the only person who can help me because you are the only person who knows of my identity as Black Lightening. If there was anyone else I could ask, I would. I hate putting you in the vexing position of posing as somebody you are not, but I need to find that money if I can. My father is threatening to arrange my marriage to a lady with a large dowry, if I do not chose a wife soon, and there's no one that I wish to bind my life too. I need to buy myself more time, and the only way I can think to appease my father is by recouping some of his money. I will do anything if you will agree to help me.”

Sister Genevieve was thoughtful for a moment. “It's impossible for me to imagine agreeing to this plan. Is there no one you can see aligning your life with?”

Devon's brown eyes filled with pain. “The only person that I want won't have me.”

“Devon, that's not fair. It's not you. I've told you that my calling is to go to America. I've already explained to you that I cannot leave my current ministry. It just isn't done.”

“I know,” he said with sadness. “But please, I need your help. Isn't there anything I can do for you in return, anyway I can convince you to help?”

Ignoring his question she asked, “Is this dinner party to be held in London?”

“Yes, at Lord Grayson's residence.”

“And who all will be in attendance?”

“The invitation said it's a small, intimate party. Lord Grayson and his wife, of course, will be there, his friend, Lord Trent who supposedly has some profitable investment opportunities to share, and myself. My father is invited, as well, but there is no way I'm letting him anywhere near London.”

“Is that all the people who will be attending?” She had to know if anyone she knew would be there. If there was any way she'd be recognized, she couldn't agree to help him.

“Yes, as far as I know.”

“And if I agree to go with you, what would I wear? Surely you don't want me to show up dressed in this?”

Devon's eyes wandered over her habit. “Of course not. I will make sure you have something suitable to wear. Are you agreeing to go?”

“Not yet.” She leaned back into the couch and nibbled on her bottom lip. Devon hated the way he became distracted by the motion, but he couldn't find enough self restraint to look away.

When she turned to look at him, her eyebrows were furrowed together in concern. “I'm not convinced it's wise for me to go to London and play a lady. What if...what if somebody doesn't believe me?” What she really wanted to ask is, what if somebody recognized her. She knew the chances were slim, seeing as how she had only resided in London for a short time, but all it would take is one person to recognize her to ruin her plan of fleeing to America completely.

Devon leaned into her, cupping her face with one hand. It was a gesture meant to comfort her, but his palm tingled at the contact. “I wouldn't ask you to do something I didn't believe would work. You hold yourself well, and I believe you can do anything you set your mind to. I'm only asking for you to pretend to be a lady for a few short hours, not an entire lifetime. We'll be in it together. Please.”

Watching his pleading, brown eyes, she felt her resolve slip. It was so hard for her to tell him no. Finally she sighed. “Fine, I'll do it.”

Devon's face lit up as he smiled. “Thank you.”

“But,” she interjected, “there is something you can do for me in exchange.”

“Anything,” he agreed.

Sister Genevieve rose from the couch. “Wait right here. I'll be back momentarily.”

Devon sat waiting, relieved that she had agreed to help him. He didn't know what he would have done had she not agreed to his plan. He wished he could have been as persuasive at getting her to leave her life as a nun behind and give up her dreams to go to America, but he refused to dwell on that right now and let it sour his mood for the rest of the evening.

It didn't take long for Sister Genevieve to return, and when she did, she sat next to him and thrust out one hand towards him. Devon cautiously reached his hand forward, palm face up and waited as she poured the contents of her hand into his. He pulled back his hand and held up the necklace in front of his face. It was a dainty yet elegant necklace featuring many small diamonds that angled down to form a V.

Devon looked at her curiously, one eyebrow raised. “What would you like me to do with this?”

“It was my grandmother's necklace. I need you to sell it for me so I can have some funds to live off once I reach America.”

Devon looked at what he was sure was a sentimental family heirloom, before glancing back at her. “I can't do that. This belongs with you. It belongs in your family.”