Hold Your Breath 01 - Stone Devil Duke (20 page)

Her face crinkled. Did he really believe
she would limit herself? Close-by, she spied a brass plate attached to the front of a shelf that said “Modern Philosophy” on it. Aggie brushed passed Devin to move along the wall, taking in all the brass plates and scanning titles. She passed by several sub-categories of philosophy, then on to history, mathematics, geography, poetry, engineering, and she was only a fourth of the way around the room.

She pulled from several sections as she went
, balancing the books in her good arm. When it became awkward to both pull books and hold them in her arm, she went over to the gleaming rosewood desk and set the stack down.

“Done?”
Devin walked over to the desk, flipping through her selections.

Not answering, Aggie had already moved to a new section of the wall, poking through
an area on the Tudor reign. Grabbing a few more titles, she went back to the desk and added them to the stack.

Devin
half-sat on the desk, waiting for her. “Done now?”

“Yes, for now, this will do.” She slid the stack to the edge of the desk and started to struggle to get them into her good arm.

“It is a nice selection.” Devin slipped his arm between Aggie and the stack, sweeping them up. He offered his other arm to her.

Aggie took it and he led them out of the room. She looked back at the walls of books, not hiding her sadness at having to leave the room.
“I may come back down later this afternoon? A short trip—not too strenuous?”

Devin
looked at the books in his arms and shook his head. “If you wish.”

Sunlight streamed
in through the tall windows, and Aggie sat up the instant her eyes opened. It had been a week of her bed captivity, and Doctor Christianson had given her the freedom for activity today. She had immediately made Devin promise her the tour of Stonewell first thing in the morning.

She glanced down at the bed next to her. Empty. He had slept every night with her, hand
on her hip, giving her the security that set her mind to calm in her sleep. The last few mornings he had stayed in bed for a while talking about Stonewell, or what he was going to do during the day, but this morning he was gone.

Blasted. He was going to renege on his promise.

Furious that he thought he could keep her in the room another long day, Aggie jumped out of the bed. Landing on the floor jostled her wound, but it didn’t stop her as she jerked her robe over her night chemise, muttering to herself about the prevalent injustices from the man she married.

She turned the knob on the door
, half-surprised it wasn’t locked. At least Devin had the good sense not to imprison her in the room. She peered out into the long hallway, curious. She had only been taken to the library a couple times, had fumbled in the dark the first night, and had no idea where anything else in the house was.

But
she would look in every room if need be to find Devin. Her first guess was the study, if she could find it. Bare heels thumping on the wood floors, she stepped into the hall, turning right at the corner to the stairs.

She crashed
into the chest of a grey haired, distinguished man, who could only have been Devin’s steward, Thompson, if Aggie recalled correctly what Devin had told her about him.

He stepped backward, horrified at running straight into his injured duchess. “
I am so sorry, your grace.” He managed to maintain a dignified air, even though he now teetered on the top edge of the stairs.

Aggie reached out to grab his arm and pull him forward. She didn’t want crippling the house steward to be her first act at
Stonewell. But the crash, coupled with the pull, sent sharp pains through her shoulder.

“No, no,” Aggie said, gripping her shoulder tenderly as the pain peaked, then ebbed away. “It was my fault. I was at a near run when I turned the corner. You are Thompson?”

Thompson nodded.
“I should have been further out in the hall, your grace. Please accept my apologies.”

“There was no way you could have seen me coming
, Thompson. Truly. I was too fast in my hunt for his grace.”

Thompson gave a worried
look at her shoulder. “Duchess, if I may be so bold, perhaps I shall have a soothing bath drawn up for you? Once refreshed, I am sure the duke will be pleased to take you on the grand tour of Stonewell. The staff has eagerly awaited your recovery.”

Aggie sighed. The
temptation of a nice hot bath overrode her immediate need to find Devin and demand her tour. Even if it did mean being stuck in the room a bit longer. She did, after all, want to look her best when she was presented to the staff. “Yes, that does sound nice. But you will find his grace for me?”

“I will do so.” With a nod, Thompson turned and went down the stairs.

In the private quarters connecting to Devin’s bedroom, the bath was ready in short order. Aggie sank into the steaming liquid, the lavender-scented water invading her pores and soothing her wound. She soaked in the tub, eyes closed, for an extended time. Washing her hair and scrubbing her body was next in line, and just as she finished scrubbing the toes on her left foot, freezing water ran onto her neck and shocked her into scrambling to her feet.

Feet s
lipping in the copper tub, she whipped around to find Devin, smirk on his face and a pitcher of water in his right hand.

Screeching, Aggie kicked
water in his general vicinity. Devin jumped backward out of the spray. Aggie kicked harder, slipping and falling straight down into the tub, sending a splash that did get Devin—and a good portion of the room—wet.

Aggie laughed in victory and splashed some of the little water that was left at
Devin.

“Hey, hey, truce, truce,”
he said, as he made his way closer to the tub, hands up to block what little water he could. “I do not want you to re-injure yourself. And since I am already soaked, how about I join you in your bath? The tub is big enough for two.”

Aggie splashed. “D
o not even think of stalling anymore. I am getting out of this tub right now, and you are taking me on a tour of this colossal place.”

She stood up, dripping. “Will you get me a towel, please?”

“Gladly.” Devin snatched a towel from a short table by the fire and strode to Aggie, wrapping the towel around her slowly, kissing her moist neck. He lifted her out of the tub and turned her around.

Those
grey eyes. They told her exactly what was on his mind. Aggie took a quick step back to avoid getting sucked into Devin’s assault. She was going to get out of these rooms, and making love to Devin would not get her any closer to the outside world.

Sensing defeat,
Devin sighed, and went over to his wardrobe to replace the now sopping black pants and simple white shirt he wore. Holding the towel wrapped high on her chest, as un-enticing as she could manage, Aggie walked to her trunk, which had been delivered to Devin’s rooms several days ago. She pulled out a practical muslin
dress for traipsing about the house and grounds.

A
fter proper introductions to Thompson and the staff, and a rambling tour through the three levels of the south wing, Devin brought her back to the main structure through a low boxwood hedge maze that skirted the outside of the building. Back in the main entry, Devin veered to the right, and Aggie followed into the stone-walled, two-story dining hall.

Aged tapestries half the height of the walls hung in symmetrical increments
high along opposing walls. Aggie looked across the enormous hall, noting the void of most furniture.

“That is odd,” she said.

“What?”

“The table.” Aggie pointed at the
disproportionately small table at the end by the immense stone fireplace. A maximum of four people would fit around it, and even at that, elbows would be bumping.

“I
put it in after my parents died. I like it better. The true dining sets are brought in when there are formal functions.”

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to one of the long walls. “What you should
really be noting in here are the tapestries.”

Aggie looked up at the wall, taking in the
tapestries past the cursory glance she gave them when they entered. Eyes widened and her mouth slid open.

“What are those?”

“Shall I start on the left?”

Aggie nodded
.

“
That tapestry was done for my ancestor, the Earl of Fulton. He built the main structure—the main castle and the tapestry were both a gift from King Henry VII, for years of loyal service.”

Aggie tried to hold in a smile
but didn’t succeed. “It is an interesting scene to watch while dining. Was it the King or the earl that liked orgies?”

Devin smirked.
“My guess is both. But one does not hide away a gift from the king. One displays it for all to witness. We do tend to seat people according to their sensibilities, and an unmarried woman would never be seated across from it.”

“
Smart. I am sure you have had a wrinkled nose or two, regardless.”

“One or two. It does tend to lead to a
split of mostly men on one side of the table and women on the other.”

“I can imagine.
” Aggie looked over her shoulder at the tapestries lining the other side of the wall. “Yes, very docile over there.”

She shifted back to the wall in front of her.
“All right, how about the next one?” Goat after goat after goat filled the next tapestry over. Nothing but a large stew of goats.

“
Yes, the goats. I do not know why, but I have always liked this one. This one is from the third Duke of Dunway. He widowed early, and in grief, took to goats for some reason. By the end of his life, thousands of goats were living inside of Stonewell. That tapestry was his contribution to the collection. Not a likeness of his wife, but of goats. I always wondered if he loved the goats more than the wife that sent him into grief in the first place.”

“That next one is creepy
.” Aggie pointed at the third tapestry in line. The pinched face of a woman with crazy eyes, a half-story tall, was framed by wild black hair. “She looks like a giant witch.”

“She was.
She lived here at the insistence of the Marchioness of Rivendale. Or at least that was story attached to her. The witch had some extraordinary power over the Marquess and his wife. They had no children, and after all three died—together within a week of each other—the title and land came to my direct ancestors.”

They continued down the hall,
Devin describing each of the tapestries’ history in detail. One gore-filled warfare scene. One depicting childbirth. One a dance between two wart-filled feet.

Aggie found the collection both bizarre and fascinating.

At the end of the hall, she turned to Devin. “I am amazed that you leave them all displayed. They are not at all in common taste.”

“I suppose not. But I grew up with them, so they are normal to me. Plus, they are my ancestors, and I respect all of who they were. Even if they tip on the side of peculiar.”

Aggie looked at his smiling profile as he looked up at the wall. She wouldn’t have guessed, but it turned out her new husband had the ability to be quite amusing. That charm could be a dangerous thing she realized, for when he wanted something, she was not going to be any force not to give it to him. But what would she even want to deny him?

Deep down, she knew she would never want for anything as long as
Devin was with her, and above all, she would be protected. He was a man that would let no harm come to his own.

And she was his own.

Devin turned around to face the other wall, sweeping his hand in the general direction. “The rest are all pleasant—or at least within the realm of not producing faints. They also do not have fun stories to accompany them.”

“Have you made a contribution
to the collection, yet?”

“No.
” He looked down at her. “I guess it remains to be seen whether I go a little crazy or not.”

“Let
us hope for not. I like you just like this.” She slipped her arm under his. “And I am not looking to add another woman, or goats, into our current arrangement.”

“That is excellent news.”

Devin started walking back down the length of the room.

“How did you learn all this history? You said your father was not very vocal.”

“Thompson taught me most of it. He took it upon himself to learn every detail of the history of the place from my grandmother. Apparently, my father had little interest in history, yet my grandmother thought the history vital to the line. So she imparted as much as she could to Thompson before her death.”

Aggie took one more look up at
what she had dubbed “the wall of strange” before they exited the hall. “Your lineage is both fascinating, and if I may admit, intimidating.”

Devin
laughed. “To me, too. Many of them were great people. I have worked very hard to honor the title.”

The rest of the
tour took them into early evening. Aggie was overwhelmed with the size and history of Stonewell. Devin liked to call it a house. She liked to call it a castle, because that was exactly what it was. Apparently, his ancestors had big personalities and loved drama, so each successive generation attempted to outdo the previous. Hence the rambling wings and rooms for every conceivable occasion.

Aggie discovered
that while Devin easily talked of ancestors of past, he never once, aside from in the dining hall, mentioned his father or mother, nor any impact either made on Stonewell.

Twilight
approaching, Devin stopped at the door to the room adjoining his.

“This end
s our tour for today—your chambers. It has been completely redone.” Devin bowed as he opened the door and Aggie entered the rooms. “I hope it is to your liking. If not, you can redirect the staff.”

Aggie
stepped into the middle of the grand room. The staff had been very busy while she was recovering. Amazing, for she hadn’t heard a peep from these rooms. Aggie walked around, breathing in the light scent of lavender. Crisp linens and draperies hung, in shades of violet and creamy yellows, while the shined rosewood furniture added an elegance to counter the soft colors.

She turned to Devin. “It is beautiful.”

“You seem to have missed the gift specifically from me in here.” He walked over to the rosewood bureau, pointing at a hinged box on top of it.

Head tilted in curiosity, Aggie moved to stand next to him. She pulled open the cover of the box. Inside, a gleaming silver pistol sat tucked into red velvet.