Devonny

It was with a sigh of relief that Devonny slipped her nightgown over her head and pulled her hair from the coif on top of her head. The dark curls spilled around her shoulders and she absently combed her fingers through the locks. It was well into the early hours of the morning, though she had been allowed to retire, she helped the rest of the staff make sure that the house had been returned to it's former state before returning to own her room.

And yet despite her physical exhaustion she found herself unable to quiet her mind enough to fall asleep. She thumbed through her meager collection of books and sighed. She'd read them all backwards and forwards.

A small smile lit her face. She did, however have permission to access to a veritable treasure trove of books . She carefully lit a candle and slid her feet into her slippers and draped a shawl over her nightgown.

The house was dark and silent as she made her way down the hall and then into the library. She lit an oil lamp wit her candle casting the room in dull light. Her fingertips trailed over the spines of books until she found the collection of Shakespeare and pulled Much Ado About Nothing from the shelf. She smiled, running her fingers over the lovely leathern cover.

She then blew out the lamp and took up her candle once more and moved to return to her room. She padded silently down the hallway, her head already in the book when she bumped into a tall male frame.

She shrieked, dropping the book and the candle.

"Good God, woman." Gabriel snatched up the candle before the flame went out.

Devonny bent quickly and retrieved the book. "Good God, woman?" she retorted. She tossed her hair over her shoulder in indignation. "Well, I'm not the one roaming around in the dark."

"This has been my home since childhood. I have no need to light my way." He frowned at her in the candlelight. "Have you always been such a saucy little piece or is it the influence of my brother's company?"

She smiled thinly, fixing her face into a becomingly innocent expression. "Was there something you wished, sir?"

His muscular frame relaxed a bit and he shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. It would seem that I had the same idea you had. That and a cup of tea."

"The tea, I may help you with," and she stepped around him heading back towards the kitchen.

He followed. "I can manage on my own."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "It's no problem. I wouldn't be doing my job if I allowed you to pour your own tea." she answered as they entered the kitchen.

She set the her book on the table and then turned and took the candle from him to light the oil lamp on the table.

He sank into the chair at the kitchen table and watched as she began heating water. Devonny glanced at him as she moved about the kitchen, removing two teacups from the cupboard and then moving about to gather milk from the ice bin as well as sugar, honey, and lemon.

His dark hair was free from it's usually coaxed back waves and fell about his collar. He wore a loose cambric shirt open to the middle of his chest revealing the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen. He wore dark breaches tucked into dark boots.

She poured his tea and set it before him with a small saucer of milk. She stood a moment uncertainly before turning and pouring her own cup. He was the master of the house taking his tea in the kitchen. Where then was she supposed to sit? She stood awkwardly near the stove, her teacup and saucer in her hands.

As if reading her thoughts, he chuckled. The warmth of his laughter washed over her. "Please sit, Devonny. There need be no formality when it is just the two of us."

She smiled and took her seat across from him. He picked up the book on the table and smiled faintly. "Much Ado About Nothing," he mused. "Shakespeare again? You are quite fond of his works it seems."

"His comedies, mostly," she answered as she squeezed lemon into her tea and then added a bit of honey.

"And why is that?" he asked eyeing her with interest.

She lifted the cup to her lips and shrugged. "Everything is always such a mess, and it seems as though nothing will ever be put to rights but everything ends happily in the end."

"And you're seeking that happy ending? No affection for his tragedies?" he asked teasingly.

Devonny met his gaze momentarily before looking to her cup as she traced her fingertips absently around the rim. "I've had enough tragedy in my life. I prefer not to make it the subject of my leisure as well."

Gabriel felt a constricting in his chest at her words and the change in her demeanor. He had meant only to tease her and make her smile. "I'm sorry that you have had such tragedy in your life, Devonny." He said softly. "I did not mean to open old wounds."

She stirred a bit more honey into her tea. "They are just that, sir. Old wounds. Nothing more." " It's Gabriel," he corrected. Gabriel's gaze searched her face before his gaze drifted to her movements and the lemon and honey."Good Lord," he said. "What are you doing to your tea?"

Devonny laughed and glanced at him looking chagrinned.. "I know. How very un-British of me, defiling my tea this way." She took a sip before setting her cup down. "My mother was from the Americas," she said.

"Ah," he smiled. "From the former colonies."

"A slave."

He lowered his gaze to his own cup. "I'm sorry."

She looked at him. "Do not apologize. From what I know of your family they have always been for the abolition of slavery."

He nodded absently and she continued.

"She came to England with her master. He..." Devonny sighed. "He abused her. And I am the product of that abuse. When she found she was pregnant with me she used the benefit of English soil to sue for her freedom...you know, it had been done before but not by a woman and she had some support from prominent abolitionists. But when it looked like things were not going well she fled with the help of friends to the countryside where she wouldn't be found. Her owner looked everywhere for her but could not find her and eventually had to leave England."

Gabriel glanced at her. "And so your mother found her freedom?"

Devonny smiled wanly and shook her head. "Momentarily, only to die in childbirth. And I...I spent my childhood in the countryside with an older couple, a minister and his wife, Americans. I was happy, but when they passed away from sickness I was sent to an orphanage here in London."

Gabriel winced. He knew the condition of the city orphanages. They were much like prisons, the conditions deplorable.

"I ran away," she said, "and spent the time from when I was eight until I was eleven on the streets."

Gabriel reached across the table and took her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles.

"A man found me, a gentleman. He was kind and I begged him not to take me back to the orphanage. I told them how they treated me there. He took me to Margaret instead. She was his mistress, I think. She was more wonderful to me than I could have ever asked. And then that...this man came and took that from me too."

She gazed at her hand in his as his thumb caressed the smoothness of her skin. He released her hand abruptly and stood and walked around the side of the table to stand next to her. She did not look at him but rather lifted her cup to her lips once more.

He sank to one knee at her side. She set down her cup and he reached up and brushed his fingertips over her cheek. She turned to look down at him. He lifted his hands to cup her face.

His voice was husky. "You...you are..."

She cut him off and surprised him by leaning in and pressing her lips against his. His lips were soft, made pliant by his surprise. When she pulled back he was staring at her.

She straightened suddenly her mouth forming a silent 'o'. She flushed and stammered. "I--I'm so sorry." her words rushed out. "I don't know what I was thinking." She stood abruptly, him swiftly standing as well as she grabbed up her cup and saucer and began hurriedly clearing the table. She was reaching for the cup of honey when he caught her wrist and gently tugged her to face him.

She kept her gaze on his shirtfront as he pulled her close and slipped his arms around her. She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I had no right...I should not have..." her voice trailed off as he brushed her hair back from her face and lifted her chin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered in reverent tones as he perused her features.

She met his gaze, her lips parting slightly. He watched as her wondrous gaze drifted to his own lips. He couldn't help but smile. Yes, she definitely wished for him to kiss her again. And so he deliberately laid his lips against hers.

Gabriel kissed her, holding her against his body, trying to show her with his kiss that in his arms she was safe. She had nothing to fear and that he would do all that was in his power to keep her safe. His fingers moved through her hair as he pulled her tighter against him and deepened the kiss. In response she wound her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer.

He stole the breath from her lungs as the kiss intensified. But she was convinced that she didn't need air. All the needed with this. She was gasping for breath when he pulled back and grinned at her, a bit of sadness touching his gaze. He smoothed his hands over her dark hair. "Come."

She blinked up at him as he swept her into his arms and carried her from the kitchen, upstairs and silently made his way with her into her bedroom. He laid her on the bed and pulled the covers up around her. She gazed up at him in confusion. He smiled thinly and pressed a kiss to her lips.

He turned to go and paused in the doorway to glance back at her. She was propped up on one elbow, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. She looked lovely, he thought, and confused.

"Stay," he begged. "Just please stay here." His dark eyes were fervent on her. "I haven't the strength..." his voice trailed off.

Devonny sat up, gazing at him wide-eyed as he stood rigid, hands curled into fists as he looked at her. His voice was low when he spoke. "I am your employer. We took you on as a favor to Mrs. Palmer as you had nowhere else to go. It is unseemly that we should--" he cleared his throat and drew himself upward. "It is unseemly that we should breach any proper boundaries, physical or otherwise..."

Devonny stared at him wondering at his ability to distance himself so completely from the emotions that had seemed to overtake them both only moments before.

He watched as confusion flitted over the girl's exquisite face nodded stiffly. "Goodnight, Devonny," he said, his voice hushed as he closed the door behind him. Devonny stared at the closed door in dismay before letting out a frustrated growl and burying her face in her pillow.

It would be long before Gabriel got any sleep that night. The image of Devonny's features betraying her bewilderment would not vacate his mind.

He groaned. It was as though he'd completely take leave of his senses. He had no business kissing her and he had better learn to control his impulses.

It was unlike him to lose control with a woman the way he did with Devonny. The girl was beautiful, yes. But he'd been surrounded by beautiful women since he was old enough to desire them. But there was something about this little mulatto witch that drew him inexplicably to her.

His mind drifted back to the way her mouth felt under his own and the way her body felt crushed against his. He grinned to himself. She was a cheeky little piece when her mouth got ahead of her. But tonight he'd seen another side of her, drawing him ever closer to her.

A disturbing thought crossed his mind. Perhaps she wasn't as innocent as she seemed. For a girl who had grown up in a brothel she seemed utterly naïve. But it could simply be an act.

The homes of London's elite were full of young women of the lower classes who were intent on seducing the master of the house for their own advancement.

He did not think Devonny the conniving type but perhaps she was simply that adept. He did not like to think he'd been so easily managed.

***

Devonny settled into life at the Davenport mansion over the following weeks. Prince and Elijah became great friends to her while Moira became a watchful guardian figure. She grew accustomed to her duties and found herself content with the exception of the fact that Gabriel Davenport treated her like a plague and barely acknowledged her existence.

But she was used to being invisible. Working at Madam Pomfrey's had taught her how to go about unnoticed. However, it wasn't simply that his dismissal of her that hurt. It was the open hostility in his gaze whenever his eyes came to rest on her.

And so Devonny went out of her way to avoid him whenever possible.

She was hurriedly dusting the bookcases in the library while Gabriel and Elijah were out at a meeting. She balanced on the ladder, lightly running the feather duster over the leather bound treasures.

She stretched her reach, not quite willing to descend and roll the ladder along quite yet. She balanced precariously on the step, gently dusting the spines.

"Careful," came the deep voice below her. Devonny squeaked, startled and teetered on the ladder attempting to right herself to no avail. With a shriek she fell sideways off the ladder, her body twisting in midair as she grasped for the ladder and missed. She squeezed her eyes shut as the ground rushed up to meet her.

But the jarring impact never came. She felt strong arms enclose her, taking the force of her fall as she was caught and cradled against Elijah Davenport's strong chest.

"Whoa," he grinned at her as she clung to him, eyes still shut. "Perhaps we should keep your feet on the ground, love."

Devonny's face flooded with embarassment when he did not release her. 'I-I'm sorry, sir" she stammered looking at him and wriggling out of his grasp as he set her on her feet. "I was startled. I thought you were someone else."

"Ah, thought I was the brooding Davenport brother?" He grinned. "I apologize for causing such terror and damn near causing you to have a tragic accident." He gave her a mock frown. "And how many more times must I tell you to stop calling me 'sir'?"

"At least once more," she gave him a small smile. "You're back earlier than I expected."

Elijah shrugged and made his way to his desk. "It was a brief meeting."

"Is Gabriel with you?" She glanced apprehensively toward the shelves she had yet to reach.

"Planning to flee?" Elijah mused, noticing her look. "Why does he frighten you so?"

Devonny's gaze flashed defiantly but it was quickly masked behind her generally demure façade. "I'm not afraid of him" she said quietly. "I simply prefer to stay out of his way."

Elijah's brow wrinkled as he studied her. No, she wasn't afraid. But something obviously made the girl seem to disappear inside herself when his brother was around.

Elijah jerked his head toward the shelves. "Leave them. It's time to be packing up anyway."

She cocked her head. "Packing?"

Elijah lifted one honey colored eyebrow. "I suppose Mrs. Palmer has forgotten to mention it to you. We go to the country house in the summer months. London is God awful in the heat." He continued. "We have a full staff there as we often entertain and the house and grounds are substantial. However, we often take Moira and Miles. They get a bit of a break from running a household."

"Annnd I am going?" Devonny ventured uncertainly.

Gabriel scoffed. "What, you wish to stay here? Alone?"

Devonny considered this. Months without anxiety or tiptoeing around. Months without Gabriel. The idea was at once appealing and saddening for reasons she could not name.

"Argh, Devonny," Elijah growled before rummaging in his desk. "You're going." He looked her in the eye, daring her to refuse him. He began scribbling something on a sheet of paper.

"But Elijah I don't want--"

He stamped the envelop with wax and thrust it at her. "Take this to Madam Baskett's as soon as you get a moment." He eyed her. "I don't want you see you baking in that dark high necked gown in the country. Forget the dusting for now."

***

Moira had indeed forgotten to mention that the Davenport house would be vacated during the summer and that she go on Elijah's errand to Madam Baskett's.

When the hackney dropped Devonny off in front of Madam Baskett's, she was certain that there had been some mistake.

Dressmakers models were displayed in the window garbed in the latest fashions from Paris.

She hesitantly stepped into the shop and was instantly approached by a woman nearing middle age with furious red locks and vibrant blue eyes.

"Bonjour chérie," she cooed smiling warmly. " 'Ave you come to pick something up?"

Devonny blinked at the woman, momentarily accosted by the woman's bright striped silk gown and the cloud of French perfume that hung about her. "I-I am not sure," she stammered, thrusting the letter Gabriel had sealed at her.

Smiling faintly, Marie Baskett opened the letter. "Ah," her smile widened. "From monsieur Elijah." she scanned the letter and gave Devonny an appraising look. She slowly circled the young woman while Devonny tried not to fidget. The woman purred low in her throat. "Monsieur Elijah has stated that you are to accompany his to his country estate at the end of the month and that a suitable wardrobe is to be made up sparing no cost."

Devonny frowned. "Surely he's joking."

Marie waved the letter dismissively. "I think not." She locked the front door of the shop and placed the 'closed' sign in the window. "You've come at a good time. I was just closing up and I like to be discreet. Goodness knows the gossip when one mistress and another, or even a mistress a a wife end up unwittingly shopping together."

Devonny's mouth made a shocked 'O'. "Oh! I'm not Elijah's--he and I--"

"Shhh, mon chou," Marie soothed. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Monsieur Elijah is a beautiful man and rich too. His taste is impeccable."

Marie drew Devonny further into the shop and quickly divested of her clothing, ignoring Devonny's faint protests.

Marie presented an array of fashion plates featuring the latest and most daring styles from Paris. All the while Devonny protested the extravagance, insisting that Marie simplify the gowns, leaving out the flounces and instating that she had no need for an evening gown. They haggled over necklines; Devonny begging her to raise them just one inch please, while Marie simply clucked her tongue and shook her head but agreed, lamenting: " 'Ow are you going to keep a man such as him enticed if you insist on dressing like a school girl."

Hours later Devonny had been fitted for morning gowns, afternoon gowns, one unnecessary evening gown, two crinolines, torturous whale bone corsets, petticoats, lace shifts, silk stockings, black leathern kid boots, gloves, bonnets, and lace kerchiefs.

Devonny bluntly refused the lavishness only to have Marie hand her the letter from Elijah quoting as Devonny read: "Ignore any protests from the lovely Miss Madison. It is my wish that she be outfitted with a full wardrobe. Pay no mind to her refusals which I'm sure will be numerous."

Devonny growled low in her throat, cursing Elijah under her breath.

Beaming, Marie kissed Devonny on both cheeks and ordered her a coach to take her back to the Davenport house as night was fast approaching.

Devonny arrived home and rushed into the kitchen, flinging her shawl and bonnet upon a chair and hurriedly tying on an apron. "I'm so sorry," she rushed out, helping set out rich aromatic coffee. "Elijah's errand--"

"Don't worry about it, love," Moira chided. "I've been doing this since before you were born. I can manage on my own for a couple of hours."