Page 27 of The Devil to Pay

She snorted at that, her expression one of contempt. “What, so you can gather more intelligence? You’d like that, I don’t doubt. Perhaps we ought to go together. You could have a marvellous time describing the desperate attempts of an old maid as she tries to attract the eye of any single man in one last-ditch attempt to catch a husband.”

Jules stared at her in horror. His heart beat in an odd, erratic manner and he felt vaguely sick.

“I don’t understand,” he said, though he suspected he understood far too well and was experiencing the distinct sensation of having the rug pulled from under his feet.

She stared at him, folding her arms, those intelligent blue eyes glittering with the light of battle. He’d wanted to cross swords with her from the first moment he saw her, and now she was giving him the chance he only wanted to repair the damage he’d unwittingly done.

“Do you mean to say you’ve discovered enough information now?” she asked, her tone mild.

His heart tripped as he realised she’d figured him out, that she had been toying with him just as he’d suspected. She looked smug and imperious, knowing she had bested him, and there was that maddening glint in her eyes that made him want to… to challenge her to a duel or something equally ridiculous. Except it probably wouldn’t be ridiculous with a woman like her, she’d doubtless beat him, the devil take her. The realisation that he would be proud of her if she did might have made him smile if he were fool enough to underestimate the trouble he was in. He wasn’t that big a fool.

“Enough information about what?” he asked, playing for time, as he realised his analogy of being the mouse toyed with by a cat was only too appropriate.

“About me,” she said, staring at him, unblinking, accusation in the words. He deserved it too, deserved her scorn, but he didn’t care so much for that as for the hurt he’d caused. She was putting on a brave show and, if he hadn’t been studying her so carefully since his arrival, she might have convinced him that she was merely furious and disgusted with him. Perhaps he was an arrogant devil—very well, there was no perhaps about it—but he knew she was attracted to him, had allowed him past her defences just a little, and he’d betrayed her.

Jules swallowed, wishing it did not matter so much what she thought of him, but realising too late that it mattered a good deal.

“About you?” he said slowly, knowing he was just putting off the inevitable but discovering he did not want to be found out. He was curious to know more about Davenport, damn her eyes, and not because he wanted revenge on her for making him feel like a failure at the one thing he was good at.

“Yes, about me,” she said, moving a stack of books from one place to another for no good reason he could see other than giving her something to do. She put the books down on the table with such a thump his heart leapt in response. “So you can write me into your next novel as some diabolical villainess, or the mean old harridan who thwarts the beautiful heroine’s plans to marry her sweetheart.”

She stood straight, glaring at him, daring him to lie to her, to dismiss her or push her aside. Good God, this woman was something else. Jules regarded her, wondering how she did it. Her hair was in complete disarray, the dismal grey green gown she wore this morning was undoubtedly the ugliest thing he had seen her wear to date, and yet her chin was up, her back ramrod straight. She looked down her imperious nose at him like a queen regarding a traitor before sentencing him to the Tower to await his bloody end.

“How did you know?”

The look she sent him could have etched glass, it was so contemptuous. “You? A gardener? Just how stupid do you think I am?”

“Not stupid in the least. As for me…”

“You’ll get no contradiction from this quarter, so don’t expect it,” she shot back, undermining his attempt at self-deprecation nicely. “So, what was it? My money is on the bitter old maid ruining her beautiful younger sister’s happiness out of spite.”

“Well then, you’d be wrong,” he replied, and at least he could comfort himself with the fact that he’d made her strong and beautiful and diabolical.

“Oh?” She hardly appeared reassured, and he didn’t blame her.

“A vampiress,” he admitted with a wry smile.

She made a choked sound, and he was uncertain if it was amusement or distress. It bothered him tremendously that he could not tell.

“Well, I’m sure it will do very well for you,” she said, and with such dignity, he felt like the lowliest of villains. “You’ll excuse me if I ask you and your… Mr Briggs, whoever he may be, to leave forthwith.”

She moved forward, heading for the door, and Jules rushed to intercept her.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, not having the slightest idea of what he was going to say but needing her to know he wouldn’t do it. “I did come here to do just as you supposed, but… I shan’t do it. I’d already decided I wouldn’t. Please—”

“Please what?” she said coldly. “Congratulate you for having a scrap of common decency rather than to make fun of me in public? Bravo, Mr Briggs… ah, but that’s not your name, is it?” she added with a sneer.

“No,” he admitted, sidestepping as she tried to move past him. He held out his hands in a peaceable gesture as she took a step back. “I just want to talk to you. Please, just give me a moment. If you still want me to leave, I shall do so at once, only you still need help to finish sorting and putting the books on the shelves. It will take you weeks by yourself.”

“I do everything by myself,” she said, but there was a tremor in her voice, and this time a too bright sparkle glittered in her eyes that alarmed him more than her fury ever could.

Davenport did not cry – at least not in front of people. Though he wondered if perhaps she hid her tears and kept them private, a thought that twisted his heart. In public, however, she commanded, she arranged, and she scolded. She did not weep. The idea he might have reduced her to doing so in front of him made him feel sick.

“I can’t tell you my real name. Not yet, at least,” he said, for even knowing what he owed her, he wasn’t about to divulge his title until he knew she wouldn’t drag him through the courts for this ridiculous adventure. There was enough of that going on as it was. “And I most humbly beg your pardon. I know what you must think of me, and I don’t blame you.”

“How very noble you are,” she said, turning away from him, her arms tightly folded, but there was hurt behind the anger, and he heard it plain enough.

“I know I have behaved very badly,” Jules said, wishing that wasn’t always his line but used enough to having to say it. “And I ought not to have come here. It was ridiculous of me, but… I wasn’t thinking straight. It’s just, I was in the area, and someone sent me your review and I was so… so angry with you.”