The Devil Earl (21 page)

Not to be undone by such tactics, Prudence was determined to take all her trunks with her. If truth be told, she cared little for London, preferring instead the craggy Cornwall coast and the familiar sight of the abbey. Of course, she would have to return sometime to fetch Phoebe, but right now Prudence did not want to think about her sister.

“Very well, then,” she said, rising to her feet. His ultimatum having failed, Hugh was forced to accept her decision with good grace, but his frown was evidence of his displeasure, and his pale cheeks sagged with disappointment. For a moment, Prudence regretted their quarrel, yet she hardly thought herself at fault. And she was more than willing to make amends when, and if, Hugh should come round.

“You will take Mrs. Broadgirdle,” he said, gruffly.

Prudence sighed. “I will take Mrs. Broadgirdle,” she agreed, though she did not want the intrusion of either the chaperone or the maid. If she was to be honest with herself, Prudence would have to admit that the abbey was not the only thing that lured her to join Ravenscar. And Hugh, for all his protectiveness, might well be right to urge against her going.

For underneath her practical exterior, buried so deeply she had heretofore hardly been aware of it, was the desire for a very different sort of adventure altogether…the kind for which the count was famous and the kind that had earned the Devil Earl his wicked reputation.

Neither Hugh nor Phoebe had appeared to see her off, and Prudence knew a slight ache of abandonment until Sebastian welcomed her. Then, her insides fluttered absurdly, and she could think of nothing else but the dark appeal he held for her. Family and friends could be forsaken for the mysterious man who held her in his thrall.

Although Sebastian greeted her warmly, lingering over her hand just a bit longer than propriety allowed, he was not happy to see Mrs. Broadgirdle. When he assisted the older woman into his coach, his lips curved into a fierce frown and he quirked a dark brow at Prudence.

“Why, it is impossibly dark in here!” Mrs. Broadgirdle said immediately. “Positively black. Open the curtains, so that I might see something. I vow I cannot catch my breath!”

Sebastian pushed back the velvet window coverings as soon as he joined them in the luxurious vehicle, but it rapidly became evident that the journey Prudence had so looked forward to was going to be awkward, if not downright unpleasant. When she tried to make conversation, Mrs. Broadgirdle answered her sharply, and Sebastian refused to participate at all. He sat across from her, glowering at Mrs. Broadgirdle, his mood a sour reflection of the chaperone’s ill temper.

After two hours, Prudence began to wonder why she had argued so vehemently with her sister and cousin for this trip.

And after two days, she was beginning to think the Devil Earl could easily live up to his name.

Prudence had tried all manner of discussion, including a mention of James, but that had only earned her a black look
in reply. For his part, Sebastian tried to coax Mrs. Broadgirdle to ride in the coach with the trunks, but she shook her head in a cold and determined fashion, which, of course, made him look even more ferocious. Then he sulked, in his own threatening fashion, glaring at the chaperone just as though he might suddenly rip her to pieces right there in the coach.

The earl of Ravenscar was definitely accustomed to getting his own way, Prudence decided. He was a grim, arrogant creature, and yet, she knew him well enough to overlook such faults. Beneath that harsh exterior was a man who had lost himself, and, like a baby learning new steps, he would doubtless take one stride and fall back before standing again.

Being cooped up with an unhappy Sebastian for hours on end had taken its toll on her own temper, yet Prudence felt not only the familiar exhilaration in his presence, but also that strange kinship between them. And it was growing. At times, it seemed as if they shared the same thoughts, and Prudence knew a tender regard for the earl that had nothing to do with the thrilling promise in his stormy eyes. It was just as though she were developing feelings for him that transcended his name and his person.

Prudence started at the thought. Surely that would be the height of foolishness—an old maid like her, fancying herself in love with the wicked earl! Prudence would have laughed, but something got stuck in her throat at that exact moment, making her eyes water.

In desperate need of a diversion, Prudence finally retrieved her lap desk and began working on her latest book. Having no wish to be a victim of unrequited love herself, she decided to make her heroine suffer from such a dilemma. Soon she was immersed in her writing, pouring her very soul onto the paper, but the habit appeared to annoy Mrs. Broadgirdle to no end.

Just as Prudence began to concentrate, the chaperone interrupted her with some idle comment, again and again. It was maddening, until Sebastian took control of the situation. In no uncertain terms, he told Mrs. Broadgirdle to be silent or he would toss her from his carriage. Normally, Prudence would have protested such cruelty, but this time she let the threat pass so that she might delve into her novel again.

She was stopped finally, not by Mrs. Broadgirdle, but by the rain, which, come early evening, was making itself known in a disturbingly loud fashion. Putting away her materials, Prudence prepared to rejoin the glum atmosphere set by her companions, and Sebastian dimmed the interior lights accordingly. Already he had pulled the drapes against the chill of the wind, and the interior of the coach was dark and cozy.

Selfishly, Prudence found herself wishing that they were alone inside the cozy cocoon. She glanced at Sebastian, to gauge his mood, and found that he was eyeing her under half-closed lids in a way that seemed to increase the sense of intimacy between them. She knew, just as surely as if he had spoken, that he, too, longed for them to be unattended. Dizzily, she remembered her previous ride in this vehicle, when he had taken her onto his lap and kissed her passionately.

Prudence cleared her throat. “Are we nearly there, my lord?”

“I believe so,” Sebastian answered. “Though the rain may delay us.”

“We ought to stop,” Mrs. Broadgirdle muttered. “I cannot believe it is safe racing pell-mell through a storm.”

“I would hardly call this bit of water a storm, Mrs. Broadgirdle,” Prudence replied.

“My driver will tell us if he sees problems ahead,” Sebastian answered lazily, his gaze never leaving Prudence. They were almost to his home, she realized suddenly, for she
could feel his mounting anticipation, the discovery of which fed her own excitement.

“Tell me more about Wolfinger,” she whispered.

Mrs. Broadgirdle lifted a curtain and peered out. “Why, it is black as night out there. You cannot assure me that your man can see!”

Sebastian ignored her. “I must confess to a lack of knowledge concerning the abbey’s past.”

“Oh, my! You cannot mean it!” Prudence protested.

“Perhaps you can tell me what you know,” Sebastian urged, in a voice that could have coaxed a reply from a rock.

“Well, I am rather familiar with the area’s history,” Prudence admitted. “Wolfinger was originally an old outpost, perhaps dating back to Roman times. The existing structure was built around 1345 for a group of monks, offshoots of the French Cistercian order, I believe. They maintained it, in dwindling numbers, until it was confiscated by the crown, at which point it was gifted to the third earl of Ravenscar, who made it the family seat.”

Prudence paused. “Apparently, the earl’s antecedents had been stripped of their northern properties by an earlier monarch, over some rather dubious dealings with the Scots. Since then, several additions have been made to the building…” She hesitated as Sebastian leaned back against the

black cushions, his lashes lowered and his mouth curved sardonically.

“And are there any ghosts at Wolfinger, Prudence?” he asked. His tone sent chills through her, but, mindful of their audience, Prudence tried to disregard his effect upon her.

“Yes, there are,” she answered directly. “In fact, the abbey is said to be haunted by both the Devil Earl and his wife.”

“Ah…” Sebastian drawled. Flicking a glance at Mrs. Broadgirdle, he smiled slowly. “But do go on. Tell us about the Devil himself.”

“Well,” Prudence said. “I fear he is quite an infamous figure.”

“Quite like myself,” Sebastian said wryly.

“No, not at all,” Prudence argued, ignoring Mrs. Broadgirdle’s barely muffled sniff of disgust. “He was without any redeeming qualities whatsoever, they say. He had no interest in business or society, but squandered his inheritance on drink and gambling and women…” Prudence’s words trailed off as she looked at Sebastian nervously. He was studying her with an amused expression that told her he well recognized the similarities between himself and his ancestor.

“The Devil Earl was completely uncivilized,” Prudence said firmly. “By all accounts, he was incapable of gentlemanly behavior, but treated everyone, from the highest peer to the lowest tradesman, with the same foul manners. He stole sheep and cattle, raped his housemaids and practically any unprotected female he came upon. He assaulted the locals until no one was safe from his tempers, and it was rumored that he condoned piracy and wrecking on the abbey’s cliffs.”

“Yet he married?”

“Well, yes, apparently he was still wealthy enough to buy a bride for himself. She was a distant cousin, I believe, and no one really knows whether she had a say in the marriage.’

“Ah…” The word dragged out between them before he nodded for her to continue.

“Once they were wed, he brought her back to Wolfinger, and, naturally, she was soon forced to see his true nature. As the story goes, when she protested his misuse of one of his people, he locked her up in the tower room, starving her and ill-treating her until she went mad.”

Mrs. Broadgirdle shifted in her seat next to Prudence. “A lot of old gossip and untruths, if you ask me,” she muttered. “Banbury tales, that is all!”

“No, I believe that most of what I have been telling you is well documented in letters and records of the time,” Prudence answered calmly. She thought she saw a flicker of a smile on Sebastian’s face, but it was difficult to tell, when he leaned back in the shadows.

“And then?” he urged. His voice was so low and exotic that she could not suppress a shiver, and beside her Mrs. Broadgirdle moved again, as though finding the soft cushions suddenly uncomfortable.

“Well, one night during one of the storms we are famous for, it seems that she managed to escape from the tower. In a wild fit, she attacked the Devil Earl with a kitchen blade. Of course, by this time, what few servants he could keep were well used to screams in the night, and they all stayed away from such doings. The next morning, both the earl and his wife were found lying in pools of blood upon the floor, having, everyone assumed, murdered each other.”

“And their shades?” Sebastian prompted.

“Both have been seen over the years,” Prudence replied, matter-of-factly. “The earl, naturally, searches for new victims among those who would dare to enter his domain, while his wife is most often seen as a white specter, wandering the halls with a bloody knife in hand.”

This time there was no mistaking Mrs. Broadgirdle’s shudder, and the silence that followed Prudence’s words seemed to settle eerily in the black confines of the coach, until it was broken by a huge roll of thunder.

“Mary, mother of God!” Mrs. Broadgirdle exclaimed, clutching her throat. “Why, it is positively frightful out there! I refuse to go on in such dangerous weather! I insist that you stop this coach at once!”

“It is too late for that,” Sebastian said. From his place in the shadows, he gave the chaperone a slow smile that was deliberately menacing. Knowing it was designed to make the woman’s hair stand on end, Prudence opened her mouth to scold him, but he held up a gloved finger for her silence.
“There is no place to rest along the moors, and we shall soon be at Wolfinger.”

“I thought we were going to your cottage, Prudence,” Mrs. Broadgirdle argued, her wary speech the first hint of weakness Prudence had ever seen her display.

“Well, I…” Prudence began. It did not matter to her exactly where they went. Naturally, she was anxious to see the abbey, but propriety forbade her remaining there, even with her chaperone. Then again, the weather had to be a pressing factor. If they were closer to the abbey, perhaps they should stay there until the storm abated.

“We have no choice,” Sebastian said ominously, as if reading her thoughts. With rather bemused wonder, Prudence watched him lean forward like a dark phantom, the dim light flickering across his hard features while he fixed Mrs. Broadgirdle with his steeliest gaze. Obviously, he was trying to frighten the woman, and one glance at the chaperone’s white face told Prudence he was succeeding.

“My lord—” she began, but he cut her off.

“The storm, you see,” he explained. “Wolfinger lies directly ahead on the better roadway, and you did want to stop soon, did you not?”

Mrs. Broadgirdle nodded nervously, just as a great crack of lightning sent thin, glowing streaks through the edges of the draperies. Prudence was about to protest Sebastian’s efforts to torment her chaperone, but fascination with the tempest made her peek out the window.

The view rushing by reminded her eerily of the first time she had ever seen the earl, racing in this very same coach and four through the elements, as if daring them to touch him. The memory sparked Prudence’s blood and filled her with the same exhilaration she had known then.

If she had not known better, she would have thought Sebastian a product of her own imaginings, and yet, he had proved far more exciting than any character she could conjure. Slanting a glance across the seat at him, Prudence.
thought he had never looked more handsome—or more wicked.

The sight of him filled her senses, making her aware of the rapid rise and fall of her breasts and of a strange longing that swept through her body. With startling insight, Prudence realized that she wanted the earl’s hands and mouth upon her, right here, right now, while the world raged outside them.