Page 14 of Lord of the Lost

Chapter Five

Mona studied Devlin as the carriage went up the hill to Grimstoke Castle. They had lapsed into silence after their mutual declarations of ‘non-abhorrence’, and he was now simply looking out of the window. She wondered what he was thinking.

She must be practical – she might have hoped for a declaration of love, but the fact that he did not regret marrying her was a beginning. He seemed distant, caught up in his own thoughts, and she wondered, again, how deeply buried the man he had been was – where was the boy who had laughed and run in the sunshine? Would she ever see him like that again?

She shivered at the thought that she might not.

He was handsome, physically attractive, yet it had always been his character which had appealed to her more. She shook her head slightly – time enough to worry about everything later, when they were alone. That thought sent a different kind of shiver through her – she knew what happened in the marriage bed, although she had never been more than kissed – and that, until Devlin, by someone she wanted nothing else from – but she’d wondered. When she had imagined such things, it had always been Devlin she imagined doing it with.

Now, she would – assuming that he wanted her that way….

The carriage reached Grimstoke Castle, and she pushed all private thoughts aside as they went in. The next few hours were for others, the Wedding Breakfast, to allow friends and family to celebrate their marriage. It was not a concept which appealed to her, for she did not know Devlin’s mother and sister well, had seen them less and less over the years since he had gone to war, and did not know what they thought of her, now.

She suspected that she would be as glad as Devlin to escape the festivities in early afternoon, to travel to Deerwood Chase. Her mother was rather scandalised that, rather than an extravagant wedding trip to somewhere impressive, they were going off to, in her words, ‘hide in the woods’, but Mona did not mind at all. She needed to get to know Devlin again, before attempting to deal with society.

The wedding breakfast went by in a blur of odd conversations, of people wishing them well, but obviously being very curious. All through it, Mona could feel Devlin at her side, the tension in him growing, his responses to others becoming shorter and harsher. Would he snap, before the time came when they could reasonably leave? Every sharp noise made him half startle, and as people became more convivial, so he retreated more.

The tension in him created tension in Mona, and she found herself forcing her smile. It was an enormous relief when he led her to his mother, early in the afternoon.

“Mother, we need to leave, if we are to be at Deerwood Chase before dark. Please care for our guests. You may expect our return in two weeks, perhaps less.”

The Duchess took his hands in hers for a moment, but her smile looked rather strained.

“Of course – you must do as you think best, Devlin.” Then she turned to face Mona, with what looked like genuine care. “I look forward to spending time with you when you return, Desdemona. Travel well.”

“I fully intend to, Your Grace, thank you.”

And with that, Devlin led her out of the crowded room and up two flights of stairs, then down a long corridor, and into a suite of rooms.

An older gentleman and a maid waited for them there, and Mona could feel their curiosity about her, instantly.

“Chalmers, is all ready?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Your luggage is already waiting in the carriage, as are the things sent over from Crooked Hill for Her Grace. Millie and I are also packed and ready to depart. We have laid out travelling clothes for both of you, so that you can change.”

Devlin nodded, then turned to Mona.

“Desdemona, this is Chalmers, my valet, and Millie, who will be your lady’s maid. If you go with her now, and change, I will be waiting for you here.”

Mona looked at Millie, feeling most uncertain. All her life, she’d shared the maid who looked after her mother, for her father had seen no need to spend the extra on a separate maid for her. To be cared for by a new person would feel most strange. The maid smiled, and it seemed genuine.

“This way, Your Grace.”

To be called ‘Your Grace’ was stranger than anything else, although she supposed that she would get used to it. She followed the maid into an adjoining room, shivering as she went, the old castle around her feeling cold and oppressive.

~~~~~

Devlin had let Chalmers dress him, stoically allowing the fussing, knowing that it made the old man feel as if he was doing something useful. After all those years at war, Devlin was perfectly able to dress himself, but knew that everyone would be scandalised by the thought of him doing so. Being kind to his servants was part of that duty he had taken on, when he had returned to England – and, after all, in the cold grey place he inhabited, it did not matter either way. He had no feelings about the matter, and allowed duty to be his guide.

Mona had said very little since the moment that they had been declared man and wife, and he found that he actually had some curiosity about her thoughts. At least, with what they had said to each other in the carriage, he knew that she did not resent being his wife – assuming that she had told the truth… He pushed that thought away – it was bad enough that she was bound to a broken man – she did not need to be treated with mistrust, as well! War had taught him to give his trust with great caution – but surely, here, where he had grown up, he could allow himself to believe that not every person was a threat?

Chalmers stepped back, smiling.

“There you are, Your Grace – all done. I will go down and make sure that the carriage is waiting at the front steps for when you are ready.”

Once the door closed after him, Devlin simply stood there, appreciating the silence, the lack of other people, after the bustle of the morning. Here, at least, he could know that nothing would assault him without warning… But, even as he thought that, the door to the adjoining suite snapped open, and he started, gritting his teeth and forcing himself not to spin around, ready to fight. It was Mona, he knew that… but his reflexes half controlled him, despite that knowledge.

He turned slowly, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. Mona stood there, the maid just behind her, and met his eyes. She was beautiful, just as she always had been, perhaps more so now. He was not worthy of her, not in any way. For a moment, when she smiled at him, a faint warmth touched him, but then he remembered how even the sound of her entering the room had made the madness reach for him, and the warmth faded back into the grey of the lost.