Nightingale. Part 7

No, not this marvelous man with his great house, vast expanses of land, family and staff to provide his needs and wants whether he could see or not.

He exhaled as he leaned back against the pillows, but maintained his grip on her arm. When she attempted to withdraw, his fingers tightened. "Stay."

"I am not a pet to answer to one-word commands, Your Grace."

He puckered and frown lines deepened at both sides of his mouth as his jaws flexed giving him a defiant look. "You will do as I say for as long as you are in this house."

She jerked the captive arm free. "Then I shall not remain in this house, Your Grace."

Heaving forward, he flailed at air and almost threw himself out of bed in his effort to retrieve her. She started for the door, and then looked back. She did not like seeing that big, beautiful man floundering.

Soundlessly, she eased back to position herself within easy reach.

His flailing hand found her shoulder and clamped it.

"I thought you had left me." The arrogance was gone from his voice as he lowered it to a whisper. "Nightingale, you must promise not to leave me. Not in this awful darkness."

"Is that a command, Your Grace?"

The stiffness leached from his back and shoulders as he wilted against the pillows. "A request. Please. Stay within my reach. Allow me the use of your eyes until mine are restored." His face etched with pain, he spoke softly, making her heart ache. "Promise me, Nightingale, that just as you did not abandon me on the road, you will remain with me until this nightmare has pa.s.sed."

"Your Grace, I would stay gladly had I only myself to consider. However, others depend on me. I have responsibilities."

His open eye, the color as blue as the deepest sea on a cloudy day, fixed on her, as if he could see. "I will hire someone to take on your other duties."

She gave a mirthless chuckle.

Obviously hearing the derision, he said, "Where are your charges, my child? What are your responsibilities?"

"I am the sole provider for my widowed mother."

"Are you an only child then?"

"No. I have an older brother and sister, but they are otherwise obligated. I see to our mother: provide her meals and bathe her, change her clothing and her bed, take care of her personal needs, duties no one else cares to perform."

He snorted his disdain. "For the right sum of money, I can hire a dozen to tend your mother's needs while you remain here."

Jessica had never considered hiring anyone else to care for her mother when her own sister and brother refused to share the responsibility.

"Perhaps, Your Grace, we could hire that same dozen to see after you. The accommodations here are far more compelling than those in my mother's home."

He smiled. "I want you here with me and, because it is my wants I desire to satisfy, I am willing to pay to keep you here. Do we have an agreement?"

She wanted very much to remain in this grand place with the handsome, doting duke and his mother, yet her conscience gave her little choice. "No, Your Grace, I'm afraid not. Others also depend on me as well."

"What others?"

She was reluctant to say, thinking he might take offense or ridicule her, but he prodded her with his silence.

"Ten months ago, a fox got into the hen house at Maxwell Manor, where I work in the scullery. Cook ordered the injured hens killed and buried, afraid to serve them at table for fear the fox might have been diseased and infected the birds."

"I interceded on their behalf. My work day was over and I volunteered to take the damaged hens and bury the dead ones on my way home."

Devlin nodded that he understood the story to this point. Apparently feeling surer of himself, his grip on her arm relaxed. Moving a step closer to the bed, she straightened to her full height, although he maintained a hold on her near forearm.

The chamber door flew open and Nan rushed in. "Out, out, out," she hissed. "Get away from the master this moment. Who do you think .... ?"

Devlin's roar startled both girls.

"WHO IN THE h.e.l.l IS THAT?" His question reverberated off all four walls, the echo bouncing eerily.

Taken aback, Nan looked at Jessica as if trying to think of a way to blame her for the duke's outburst. Before either of them spoke, he roared again.

"I SAY, WHO CAME INTO THIS ROOM AND BEGAN ORDERING PEOPLE ABOUT?" His voice dropped to a shout as he continued. "Jessica, I demand that you tell me who the person is."

Jessica answered rather than risk exciting him further.

"It is Nan, a chambermaid, my lord. I am sure she was merely concerned that I might be pestering you."

"Does this Nan person appear to you to possess good sense, or is she addled?"

Jessica regarded Nan briefly before she answered. "It is difficult to tell, Your Grace, with only appearances on which to judge."

"Nan!" He barked the name, making the girl jump again.

"Your G-Grace?"

"You are never again to speak out loud in this house within my hearing, is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Grace." She began backing toward the door.

"If there is a fire, send someone else to alert me. Moreover," he said, increasing his volume and stopping her retreat, "Jessica Blair is my dear friend, the person closest to my heart. You are NEVER to address anyone else in this house in that surly manner, most particularly not Miss Blair. From this moment on, your employment is tentative. Your standing is that of a kitchen cat, tolerated but expendable. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Nan didn't raise her eyes, as she shuffled backward, again retreating toward the door.

"You remain in this house under a cloud, Nan." Again his words riveted her in place. "If I hear one complaint of your behavior or speech - even one - you will be discharged with no notice and without references. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Grace." With that, she turned, stumbled over the threshold, and pulled the door closed behind her. Before the latch snapped into place, however, another figure slipped through and into the room. The dowager tapped her index finger to her lips, indicating she wanted Jessica to keep her presence secret.

A pall hung upon the chamber, each of the inhabitants seemingly waiting for one of the others to speak.

Jessica finally stirred the quiet. "You were harsh with the girl, Your Grace."

"I did that for you, Nightingale. I want my family and every member of the staff to understand your position here." His facial expression changed to one she could not read.

"Exactly what is my position here, Your Grace?"

He disregarded the question. "I thought a damsel in distress would admire a gentleman who rallied to her defense."

This time her laugh was genuine. "I am a scullery maid - in truth, a scullery maid's a.s.sistant - in the manor house of one of your overseers, a man whose position is minute compared to yours. It is wrong for me to be an honored guest in your marvelous home, wrong for me to be here in your bedchamber conversing as if we were equals. Under ordinary circ.u.mstances, you would never have occasion to utter a word to me."

His rolling laugh interrupted her, at the same time he removed his hand from her forearm.

Jessica shook her head puzzling. "What was it I said, Your Grace, to cause such good humor?"

He sputtered attempting to speak, and Jessica couldn't help smiling as his hilarity infected her as well.

In a moment, as he became weakened by his attempts to articulate over a sudden fit of coughing, her gentle giggling merged with his. The dowager turned her back, her shoulders quaking with a similar shattering mirth.

The chamber door flew open and Patterson burst into the room, his face flushed, his mouth set in a decidedly disapproving frown. His gaze swept the room. He looked startled to see the dowager, who, in the throes of silent laughter, again tapped her finger against her lips silencing any acknowledgment of her presence.

"What has happened?" Patterson asked the room at large. "Is his sight restored? Can he see, in spite of the dire .... ?" The words trailed off along with the duke's boisterous guffaws.

"Who suggested I might be permanently afflicted?" Booming accusation was back in Devlin's voice. He again grabbed Jessica's forearm and his grip tightened. He sneered.

"Enlighten me, Nightingale. Did the physician tell you or my mother that my sight is permanently gone?"

She turned to face him squarely. "He did not, Your Grace." She wanted her response to be vigorous enough to be convincing.

Devlin's grip on her arm eased, but only a little. He lifted his face toward hers and his voice hardened, as if daring her to be bold enough to speak the truth. "Exactly what did the physician say, Jessica, and speak the words precisely as you recall them."

She looked to the dowager, hoping his mother might intercede. The older woman did not acknowledge Jessica's glance. The girl had no choice but to do as he asked.

"He said the loss of your eyesight was a result of the blow on the back of your head where there is a sizable gash."

She hesitated wanting to choose her next words carefully, but Devlin became impatient. "What else?"

"You would be better served to speak directly with him, Your Grace, or with your mother. I believe he discussed details of your condition with her."

"You are here. They are not." He squeezed her arm again.

Guessing how she might feel in his circ.u.mstances, she thought it only fair to enlighten him.

"He said your eyesight might return in a flash, or it might return slowly, as the damage to the inside of your head heals."

"Or?"

She dropped her voice. "Conceivably, it might not return at all. But, Your Grace," she hastened to add. "Of the three possibilities, two of them are favorable."

He rewarded her remark with a pained smile. "Well said, Nightingale. You have heard that I am something of a gambler, haven't you?"

"I have heard that. Yes."

"Did you consider that favored pastime when you couched your explanation in terms a gambler might like, the odds two-to-one in his favor?"

"I did consider it. Yes, Your Grace."

There was a long pause, during which the duke appeared to affix his most pleasant, most inscrutable expression. His face reflected changes as his thoughts tumbled about.

"And what of you, Nightingale? Are you a gambler?"

She grinned. "I believe life itself is a gamble, Your Grace."

"I want you to wager with me, Nightingale. Will you do it?"

She tried to decipher his meaning by his expression. Unable to, she responded with a reluctant, "Maybe."

"I want your word that you will remain with me until my sight returns."

She started to object but he obviously heard her inhalation and raised his open hand, touching her mouth with his fingertips and staying her words.

"This bet provides a large payoff. There will be a reward of five hundred pounds to you. I will see that you receive the full sum promptly on the day my sight returns. During the intervening time, however, from now until then, your eyes will serve as mine. You will be my companion, give me the benefit, not only of your sight, but your optimism, your exuberance, and your graceless honesty. I need to draw upon them, Nightingale."

She glanced across the room at the silent dowager who seemed fascinated, yet content to remain unacknowledged.

"I am a wealthy man, Jessica Blair, and a generous one. Although I do not know how I appear right now, in these circ.u.mstances, I generally am considered an attractive man. Right now, I need someone truthful to evaluate people for me: their movements and expressions, their furtive glances and inner thoughts revealed by a grimace, the glint of an eye, an unexpected smile."

"But what about .... ?"

He didn't allow her to finish. "Your mother is welcome to live here during the time you serve as my eyes." He hesitated, but not long enough to allow her reb.u.t.tal. "Your hens as well. I will have the gamekeeper build stout pens close to the house, so that you may feed and fret over them at your leisure. Or I will send a servant to look after your charges where they are.

"Think of it. When my sight is restored, your mother will not have suffered, you will be five hundred pounds richer - in addition to the clothes and shoes and any other benefits I may choose to provide during your stay. Your livestock doubtlessly will thrive under my protection. Now, what do you say?"

He freed her arm, indicating it was her turn to speak.

His offer was generous.

"Would I be a servant during this time?"

He looked startled at the suggestion. "You would not. You will be my ... my ward." He smiled. "Unofficially, I will be your guardian. You will be treated as an honored guest or a distant member of my family."

"Your doxy is more likely what people will say."

He bellowed a laugh. "You hold rather exalted ideas of yourself, child. I may not be able to see, but my other senses are heightened by loss of the one. I am thoroughly familiar with the length of your arms and legs. I have rested for hours against your thin, muscular shoulders. Your hips snug against my crotch more closely resembled those of a young lad than a female."

She started to speak, but he continued.

"Don't bother to deny it. I have seen much of you with my hands, Nightingale." He paused as if to consider the possible insult in his words. "Of course, you are young. With age, I am certain you will develop womanly curves. Given your current attributes, or lack thereof, I think our friendship will be above reproach for a time."

She frowned down at her well-developed b.r.e.a.s.t.s, all the more prominently set off by her slender frame, then she glanced at the dowager who covered her mouth with both hands, her shoulders shaking as she again attempted to stifle her laughter.

Jessica didn't answer immediately, providing Devlin the opportunity to add, "You are usually captivatingly honest, Nightingale. Try to be as candid now, for both our sakes. Please."

Obviously he thought her younger than her eighteen years. Certainly she was slender, sinewy. True, her hips were not yet fully rounded, and her arms and legs long. The man had experienced no contact with her bust, which burgeoned out of proportion to the rest of her.

He had cast her as a child. For some unknown reason, he was enchanted with her, while, at the same time, dependent on her.

Again she glanced at his mother who regarded her with a peculiar twinkle in her eyes.