Page 25 of The Devil Himself (The Devil You Know #1)
Twenty-Three
E verything had gone pear-shaped in a heartbeat.
The hard rain had begun to fall while they were still at least two hours away from the estate in Kent and the road had quickly become a quagmire of ruts filled with sucking mud that tried to pull the horses and the carriage down into them.
Sauce Box Joe, who was riding on top of the carriage with the driver, had knocked and asked if it would be acceptable if they pulled off at the next inn, which was perhaps half an hour along the way, but then no fewer than ten minutes later, they had hit a particularly nasty rut in the road, and they’d lost a wheel.
Leaving Joe to protect Gareth and Luc and the carriage, Rys had taken the driver, and they had ridden the horses, which had been tied to the back of the carriage, into the next inn to see if there was a wheelwright who could fit them a new wheel.
Instead, Rys had been forced to take a small cart that the innkeeper used to haul things around the perimeter of the inn yard and retrieve Gareth and Luc and their bags, leaving the driver to deal with the problem of the wheel.
Which would only be solved when the wheelwright could be brought over from the next town.
So it would no doubt be tomorrow morning before everything was fixed.
He didn’t like the situation, but he would pay the man handsomely once they got back on the road toward their estate.
Therefore, they were forced to settle at the inn, which at least was clean and comfortable. The innkeeper jovial, and his wife was an excellent cook.
After they had settled in a room on the second story, with Sauce Box Joe being given a smaller room tucked under the stairs on the ground floor, they dried off and changed their clothing and headed down for dinner.
After a warming and belly-filling meal, Sauce Box Joe had taken Gareth up to their room so he could change into his night clothes and crawl into bed.
Rys took the opportunity to sit by the fire in the common room of the inn with Luc, both of them nursing a glass of brandy that they had wheedled out of the innkeeper for a pretty penny.
The only other person in the common room was a lady, clearly a widow, who sat with her back to them at a small writing desk that was provided for the guests, scribbling away at a journal.
She had looked at them from under a dark veil when they’d entered but had seemed to ignore them since.
Something about her seemed familiar, but a goodly many women came to the Playground in fake mourning so they could be anonymous. Maybe she was one of them.
They sat in padded chairs, their booted feet stretched out toward the fire, legs crossed as if they were sitting in one of their clubs back in London, enjoying the finest Scots whisky.
The only thing making this entire ordeal bearable was Luc was there with him, and Rys was happy to sit and stare at his golden angel by firelight, with a small smile playing on his lips.
“What on earth is so amusing?” Rys raised his glass to his lips to take a sip after he asked the question.
Luc gave him a slow appraisal, gaze burning where it touched him. “I was just thinking how only weeks ago I could never have imagined being on the High Road with the Devil Himself, heading for one of the Hallowarren estates.”
“Hallowarren House, no less. The seat of the damn title itself. The jewel in the crown, so to speak.” His lips twisted with the irony of it.
“Yes, well, I would never have imagined that I could be here with you in this sort of a wild adventure.” Luc’s eyes glinted with amusement.
“It does rather bring to mind some mad escapade akin to eloping to Gretna Green, does it not?” Not that he and Luc could make a run for the Scottish border and get married like other people would in that scenario, but it amused him to think of it, nonetheless.
“Precisely.” Luc caught him with the intensity of his gaze, the smile fading. “There’s no one else I would rather be on an adventure with.”
“I feel the same. I am only sad that we cannot get a room without Gareth, but I didn’t feel it was safe to leave him in a separate room with Sauce Box Joe. If something had happened, people could just accuse Joe of kidnapping the boy, and he would end up in gaol and then hanging from a rope.”
“I understand.” Luc chuckled. “That fact doesn’t keep me from wanting to sneak away to Joe’s little room under the stairs and let you have your way with me.
” Luc lowered his voice on the last to avoid their fellow traveler hearing, and Rys’s body tightened at the very thought, his cock perking up against the fall of his breaches.
“I’m sure there’s somewhere we could—” Rys stopped himself. He was no untried youth to sneak off to the stables and make love to someone while straw stuck to his arse.
“I can wait until we reach Hallowarren House,” Luc said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t dream of you tonight.”
“I’m the only one that you should be dreaming of, so that suits me to the ground.” The possessive feeling he had for Luc amazed him at every turn, but he was learning to live with it. In fact, he was learning to enjoy it.
Luc’s eyes twinkled for him. “Absolutely, although I admit that I also dream of a bath. A real bath, not just a basin of water which is tepid at best. Or a rain dousing, though that makes my hair do wild things.”
Oh, a bath. With Luc. “Your hair is perfectly fine. And if I remember correctly, there’s a large copper tub in the marquess’s chambers at the house. We will have them fill it for us so we might share a bath.”
Luc’s cheeks took on twin flags of red, and he licked his lips. “Yes, please. That sounds heavenly.”
Rys sipped his brandy again. It really wasn’t bad. Of course, like all things alcoholic, it got better after you drank a bit.
Luc swirled his brandy in the glass, watching it spin. “So how far behind us do you think Arthur is now?”
“I have no idea. Joe’s men are watching for him, and they’re supposed to follow him once he arrives at the school.
I know Deacon’s men were riding on ahead to look for him along the road.
I thought about having them just dispatch him, but I need for him to make a real move toward Gareth so that I have something to take to the magistrate.
I want him transported if not hanged.” He found it not at all odd that the idea of Arthur being shot or hanged or in some other way gone from him forever was pleasant.
He supposed the fact made him a very bad man, but really Arthur had tried to kill him and his lover, had killed their eldest brother, and Rys could be somewhat vengeful.
Or if he were truly honest, he could be incredibly vengeful.
“Now you’re the one smiling,” Luc pointed out. “I daresay that you’re not smiling about me. At least I hope not, considering the tone of it.”
“In this moment, I was thinking about Arthur being hanged.”
There was noise from the lady at the desk, the sound of something cracking, and she murmured a rather shocking curse. She rose, and he realized she was going to ask for another quill.
Luc understood. He’d choked a bit on his brandy as he took another sip. “I suppose I can see where that would put a smile on your face. I was thinking more of transporting him to Australia or the Americas.”
“But then he could turn back up like a bad penny.”
“He could, but for Gareth’s sake, it might be the best thing to go the gentle route.”
“Mmm. I suppose that’s true.” He hadn’t thought about that side of things.
He supposed Gareth wouldn’t want it on his conscience having Arthur killed just because of him.
Although one never knew. Gareth might be anxious to see Arthur taken care of considering that he was probably the one who had killed Owen.
Of everyone in this situation, Gareth and his mother Hannah had lost the most, and perhaps he ought to consult the boy about what he wanted to be done with Arthur. He was the marquess now, after all.
They sat for a long while after that, letting the brandy stretch out into the night, letting the fire burn down in the grate.
The lady had long since finished her scribbles and retired, and the innkeeper was obviously trying to encourage them to go to bed by not coming to stoke it back up.
Rys found himself nodding, his eyes heavy.
He sighed. “I suppose we should go up and join Gareth and allow Joe to get some sleep. It had to be a long day riding atop the box for him.”
“I didn’t think about that, but you’re right.” Luc stood, setting the empty glass aside and holding his hand out for Rys. He lowered his voice again. “At least we’ll get to share the bigger of the two beds.”
“We will.” He shot Luc a devilish grin. “Of course, that will be an exercise in frustration since Gareth is in the room.”
“True. Perhaps we should put a wall of pillows between us.” They walked together to the stairs.
“Like the swords of the medieval knights dividing the bed so there is no touching?”
“Is that not me?” Luc asked. “A medieval maiden, terribly concerned with my virtue?”
He gave Luc a heated look. “No, you’re my angel, and you never need to worry about me sullying you. It’s not possible.”
Luc just laughed, the sound warm and fond.
“Honestly, Rys, you’re the Devil Himself, and I hope that you sully me at every opportunity we have, even if tonight is not one of those times.
” And with a wink, Luc turned and gave Rys a most impressive view of his tight arse clad in buckskin breeches as he climbed the stairs.