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."
