Druid's Daughter (18 page)

“Love, I’ll leave you to care for our large friend. You
should stay with him tonight and keep checking for a fever. I think the knife
went very deep and a fever will not surprise me. If he gets too hot you might
try sponging him down with cold water. I think he’ll be fine, but in case that
wicked knife was not clean there could be complications. Check him hourly and
send to the Commissioner’s house if you need me. I’m going to Devon’s now. I
have unfinished business with the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police
Force. I’ll be back in the morning.”

With a wide smile, Viviane kissed her dumbstruck daughter
and swept from the room.

Morgan stared after her. Her mother, leaving her alone in
the house to care for a virile, handsome man like the Chief Inspector? And
going to the Commissioner’s house to spend the night?

She understood not at all what her mother could be thinking.
She shrugged her shoulders and turned back to Lance. Her cheeks flamed as she
looked at him lounging against the pillows, his perfect body delightfully
exposed. She’d be most pleased to spend the night taking care of Lord Lance
Dellafield.

Conscious or unconscious, he was the man she now knew she
loved.

* * * * *

Viviane had been well on her way back to London when her
mind flashed a strong alarm of Morgan’s danger. A few days before she’d
acknowledged she’d not been fair to Devon. Her feelings for him were so
powerful she knew she must either accept him or never see him again. It wasn’t
fair to refuse to talk to him, as she’d done at her home in the country. She
came back in London to set things straight and in the process at least come to
know her own mind.

Besides, she yearned to see him.

The fact her daughter had been in such peril and she’d been
able to help reinforced the rightness of her decision to return to London.
Morgan was safe and now she could concentrate on her own affairs. As she left
her townhouse, she asked Jackson to get a message to the Commissioner she was
on her way to his home and to call her a hansom. For such a short ride she
would have much preferred to walk, but even a Druid priestess was not immune to
London’s night stalkers.

* * * * *

Millson admitted Viviane, as big a smile on his face as she’d
ever seen him permit himself. Still he spoke in his formal butler’s manner.

“You are welcome, madam. Shall I tell Master Jamie? He’ll be
delighted, as you know.”

She brushed her hair off her face where it had crept as
she’d swept off her hat and took a deep breath.

“Yes, do, Millson. It’s very good to see you.”

His façade cracked a little. “And good to see you, madam.
Very good indeed.”

He hurried away and quite soon a whirlwind of a boy burst
into the room and threw himself into her arms.

“Mama Viviane! I’m sooo glad you’re back.”

She hugged him as hard as he hugged her, kissing his cheek
and forehead.

“So I have a new name, do I? You’ve never called me that
before.”

Jamie colored and hung his head, then flung it upright.
“That’s how I think of you. Was it very bad of me to say it out loud?”

“No, darling, not bad at all. Let’s sit and talk ’til your
papa comes home. I think he’ll be here shortly.”

“Yes, he often comes home early nowadays. He told me he’s
winding down. Do you know what that means?” A puzzled frown creased his
forehead, as Jamie cuddled closer on the sofa.

“I hope I do.” Viviane’s smile grew broader as she hugged
the small boy again.

The front door opened and shut with a bang, as Devon burst
into the room, stopping short when he spied Viviane and his son.

“You two make the loveliest sight I’ve seen in weeks,” he
said, dropping kisses on both their foreheads. If Viviane’s kiss lingered
longer than Jamie’s nobody seemed to mind.

“I’m very glad to be here, Devon,” she said, covering his
hand on her shoulder with her own.

He looked at her with such love she colored. Not wanting him
to take the blame for Jamie’s dismissal, she turned to the boy.

“Your father and I have many matters to discuss, Jamie. Will
you excuse us if we go into his study?”

“I ‘spec you want to be alone.” His boyish grin made even
Viviane laugh.

Giving both of them a kiss, Jamie smiled and left. Millson
was waiting for him and Viviane suspected he would stay with the child and
entertain him for as long as needed.

Devon took her hand and tucked it into the fold of his arm
as they walked to his study. The minute he closed the door behind them, he
turned to her.

“Dare I hope you have favorable news for me, my love? I know
the killer has been caught and Lance is wounded but not seriously and is at
your home with Morgan. What Shriver didn’t disclose, Jackson told me when he
enclosed a note with yours.”

“I’m definitely coming round, Devon, but I’m not quite there
yet. Give me just a moment to formulate my thoughts.”

Devon pulled her onto a small sofa and sat beside her,
putting his arm around her shoulder. His smile beamed as she sighed and laid
her head against his arm and took one of his hands in hers. She’d never
initiated such an intimate act before.

“I want you in my life, Devon, but I’m still frightened. May
I spend the night in your bed?”

He started to grab her and then stopped. “There is nothing
I’d like better, my love, but I need to understand your thinking. Does this
mean you’ll marry me, tomorrow if possible?”

She couldn’t bring herself to face him directly. Twisting
her hands together, she took a deep breath.

“Not exactly, Devon. I mean to try my best, but if I
disappoint you tonight, then I’d like you to let me stay here and look after
you and Jamie. You wouldn’t be obliged to marry me.”

The arm lifted from her shoulders as Devon bolted to his
feet and planted himself directly in front of her. There was a prolonged
silence, until Viviane forced herself to raise her eyes from his boots. She
found his eyes blazing at her. She’d never seen him so angry before and a
little thrill shot through her. No wonder he was such a success in whatever
business role he attempted. He probably scared his rivals to death. His face
was stern and set, his eyes cold behind their anger, one intimidating male as
he directed his fury straight at her.

“Do you have any idea of how much you’ve just insulted me,
madam?”

She hadn’t suspected his voice could be so icy. Not with
her.

She shook her head, dismayed at the resentment radiating
from his every inch. “I didn’t mean what I said as an insult,” she whispered.
“I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Pleased? Pleased at your suggestion I treat you like a
whore? Pleased at having my sexual prowess somehow construed as the index of
your affection? Pleased that you think your sexual prowess is the index of my
affection? Think again, madam. I am far from pleased.”

She gave a small laugh. “Yes, I can see how pleased you are.
Please forgive me, Devon. I had no idea you’d take my words this way. I want to
marry you, I’m just so frightened I will disappoint you and you’ll be trapped
in a marriage that’s a disaster for us both.”

She stopped and when his face still looked black, tried
again to explain her viewpoint. “For I’ll know if I’ve failed to satisfy you
and will be as miserable as you. I see no way out if you reject my suggestion.”

She wrung her hands together and then whispered, “I’m
positive I won’t satisfy you in bed.”

He stared at her for a long moment and the anger in his face
gradually relaxed until she found herself gazing at the loving man she knew.

“I see plenty of room for negotiation here. Come to me,
Viviane. Let me try a little convincing.”

She slowly rose, but didn’t move. Her fright was plain to
see and Devon took the last few steps to her and gently folded her in his arms.

“How long did your encounter with that damned Druid priest
last?”

He tipped her face up to his and she was sure her
astonishment showed. She’d expected him to grab at her. And what did his
question matter after all this time?

She relaxed a little as his hold remained loose. “Oh, not
long. Five to ten minutes. But I must tell you I hated it.”

A shudder she could not help ran through her body.

Devon’s arms tightened just a little.

“Viviane, listen to me carefully. You know I’ve never lied
to you.”

He waited for her nod before he proceeded.

“The first time we join our bodies in love will be only
after many long and leisurely minutes of me holding and caressing you. You will
need much time to get used to my embrace, but hopefully, you will gradually
relax in my arms. I would guess it would take about an hour before we actually
unite our bodies and then only if you are ready. If you need more time, we’ll
try again another night and another night after that. We will not actually come
together until you tell me, tell me plainly, you desire to do so.”

Viviane knew she was staring. What was he saying? Could any
man be that patient?

“Viviane, I love you. I will teach you to love me. But only
within the bonds of marriage. I have a special license. Will you marry me
tomorrow and give me the chance to prove my love for you doesn’t depend on how
sexually proficient you are?”

He was holding her slightly away from him. No man had ever
been this close to her for so long without attacking her. She knew now from
Devon’s words “attacking” was just what that degenerate priest had done. She
breathed a deep sigh.

There was a silence as she turned his words over in her mind
and he waited, holding her loosely in the cage of his arms.

“All right, Devon. I’ll trust you in this. I do want to be
near you and take care of you and Jamie.”

He grinned, a delighted yet devilish grin as he held her
close, tipped her face to his and kissed her gently but firmly. She didn’t find
it unpleasant at all!

“We’ll marry tomorrow. Let’s go tell Jamie.”

He drew her tenderly to him as he again kissed her. He kept
his lips soft and feathered his kisses all along her jaw before returning to
her mouth. She’d been racked by both love and fear when he began and now the
fear seemed to be fading. To her delight her heart held only wonder as she
thought of the marvelous man who was holding her so carefully. He was beyond
kind, truly understanding in a way she’d thought not possible. She returned his
kiss with gratitude. Soon her gratitude changed to a warm sensation that turned
to fiery as it suffused her body. One she had never known. Her whole being felt
hot and yet shivery. She liked his kissing and when he nudged her lips with his
tongue, she started and then opened them.

Amazing! He actually put his tongue inside her mouth, taking
his time, tasting her as if she were some sort of luscious dessert! To her
infinite surprise she liked this also. When he withdrew and looked down at her
with a smile, she tugged at his coat lapels to pull him back.

His smile grew even broader.

“I don’t think you have a thing to worry about, my love. You
have depths of untouched passion I’ll teach you to discover. Our marriage will
be a very good one.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, wiggling a little closer in his
arms. She wasn’t paying much attention to his words. “Kiss me again, Devon.”

He laughed as he wrapped her tightly to him. “Yes, madam.
Anything madam says. Then we’ll go tell Jamie.”

* * * * *

Sitting in a large armchair by Lance’s bed Morgan tried to
focus on the book in her hands. If he were seriously hurt she’d never forgive
herself. She never meant to pull him into danger, but somehow he’d been injured
because of her.

Lance twitched on his pillows and started muttering.

“Justin, I didn’t want you hurt. I really tried to stop
them.”

The rest was too low for her to catch. Who was Justin? One
of his officers, perhaps. Had one of them once been injured and Lance blamed
himself for some reason?

She’d risen when he started mumbling, but now he was quiet
again and she sat back down. She stared at the same page for a long time. Lance
usurped every one of her thoughts. His extreme bravery as he’d charged
Tomlinson was unforgettable. Now he lay wounded. Her innate honesty made her
admit he’d not acted simply to save her, but to catch an unusually despicable
villain. Still, if he’d not found Tomlinson so close to killing her he might
have used different tactics, ones not so dangerous to himself.

Again she shuddered from head to foot. It would be a long
time before she could forget those maniacal eyes glaring at her. She could not
afford to even think of how he would have tortured her before killing her if
Lance had not arrived.

Lance was now turning his head from side to side and
muttering again. She quickly put her hand on his forehead. He was warm, but she
didn’t think dangerously so.

“Justin, Justin, please forgive me. I’m not worthy of
forgiveness, I know. But I did try.”

Morgan didn’t want to hear any more.

“Lance, don’t fret. When you’re well you can set it straight
with Justin. Just be quiet and rest.” She smoothed his forehead, trying to
erase the wrinkles that were creasing his brow.

He grabbed her hand with a grip of steel. “Don’t try to stop
me. I must see Justin.”

He half-lifted off the pillows and then fell back. He turned
his face from her and continued to toss and mumble.

Morgan felt his forehead again. Definitely warmer than the
last time she’d checked. Going to the door, she called for Jackson. She needed
cloths and fresh cold water. As soon as he’d brought them she put a damp towel
on Lance’s forehead. He seemed to settle, but only for a while. When he began
to toss again she doubled her efforts as Jackson replenished the water again
and again to keep it cool.

Hours later, she was limp from exhaustion, although she’d
sent Jackson away to rest for a while. Lance still seemed far too warm to her
and she perched on the edge of his bed. The moment she did so, he grabbed her.