Devlin
heard her before he saw her. She pounded the door, drumming with a precision
that resounded through the manor. Then she began to yell and her voice --
because of her lung capacity, no doubt -- echoed the halls.
From
the landing, he watched as Perkins allowed her in and led her to the study.
He'd hoped to gauge the woman from a safe distance, but a heavy cape covered
her head and body.
He
spied Perkins and the housemaid, Marla, with their heads bowed in discussion.
From the pointed looks in his direction, they discussed the woman and the plans
he and Eliot concocted for her. Did they wonder why he was about to do
something so idiotic? Did they hope the woman would agree to the plans and give
him his just desserts? He never should have discussed his plans with them. They
were unhappy. They would never voice it, but it was loud and clear in their frowns.
Unhappy
people were a commonality in his world. Scathing diatribes about him and his holdings were commonplace in the county.
Why not in his household? He would ignore it. Either that or fire them. And
good helpers were hard to find -- no one, unless they were female and of a
marrying age, cared to seek employment at Clayborne Manor. Or even visit these
days.
He
rather liked it that way.
Clearing
his throat to make his presence known, he watched somberly as his butler and
housemaid disappeared like mist. He berated himself for thinking the worst of
them. They said nothing to warrant his mistrust. They'd been with him through
worse times without recriminations. Why did he expect them now? Why did it matter? He was the
master of his domain. They were hired help. He sighed heavily. Maybe the fact
that they'd been with him, faithfully, for years was reason enough. Caring as
he did, he desired to know their minds, which compelled him to share his plans
in the first place. He would do it again.
Leaning
against the handrail at the bottom of the grand staircase, he listened as the
woman railed at his lawyer and friend, Eliot Dunlevy -- her brother-in-law --
with clarity and diction. The staff was relegated to the back of his mind.
"What
are you doing here?" she growled. "Where is he, Eliot? Where is that
monster?" Devlin doubted the raggedness of her breath was merely from the
brisk walk to the manor.
"Kaitlin,
what happened? The driver informed me you chose to walk in the rain. Why didn't
you take the carriage? You could catch your death."
"Death
of Cold. Ha. Yet, you expected me to ride in that coach from Hades? I could
have caught worse!" She flung the wet cape off her arms. "I bet he
borrowed it from his father."
"Kate,
let's not go into that." Eliot sighed, pulled his kerchief and wiped his
face. "You must be freezing. Let me help you out of that cape. You can
stand by the fire. I'll call for the maid to bring you a cloth and water so you
can freshen up."
Devlin
awaited her next move. The young lady didn't disappoint him. She pumped her
fist at Eliot.
"I
don't care to stand by the fire or clean up. I have enough water on my person.
I don't plan to stay long, Eliot. Just tell me where he is so I can give the
man -- and I use that term loosely -- a piece of my mind."
Devlin
moved closer and watched from the crook behind the open door as she flipped the
cape over her left shoulder and threw a sodden, muddied paper to the desk.
"How
dare he think he can make such a request and not be made to answer for it. Who
does he think he is? God?"
"Now,
Kate. Take a seat and calm down." Eliot threw up his hands then motioned
her to a chair.
Devlin
found Eliot's exasperation a rare treat. Rare indeed when he'd tried to shake
the unflappable manner of his friend occasionally and failed. The slip of a
woman had put him to shame. His lips twisted into a grin. She would do nicely.
"Kate,
take a seat. Please," Eliot said more firmly. He drew a deep breath when
she took her chair. "Mr. Clayborne will not be joining us."
Kaitlin
came out of her chair. "Are you telling me that... are you saying he's
demanded this drivel but he won't be here to account for it? Has he no
backbone? Is that why the sniveling coward sent you?"
Devlin's
brows furrowed. His lips pursed. A sniveling coward. A devil. A monster. His
fists balled at his sides. Were it a man making these claims, but it wasn't. It
was a woman, a mouthy, stubborn
woman.
"As his lawyer, I'm here on his behalf."
"So,
you're going to stand back and watch while your employer -- blackguard that he
is -- rapes the
community?" She slammed the desk, and the dull thud reverberated through
the room. "How could you? His demands are immoral. Don't you care about
those poor children and young women the home is supposed to shelter from
ingrates like him? Have you no regard for their well being?"
Eliot's
sighs grew wearier. "He's not a blackguard nor is he raping the community.
He's not going to harm the home or those housed in it. It's a simple business
deal."
"Is
that what you call it?" Kaitlin snapped. Eliot shook his head. "A simple business
deal?" Kaitlin
sniffed. "Ha. It's rape, pure and simple. Those poor women at the home
told me all about his past deals. They say he threatens to withhold funds if he
doesn't get his way. Now he's withholding funds because he wants some poor girl
to be his... his... What's the matter can't the old geezer get what he wants at
a brothel? I could strangle the old buzzard."
Blackguard.
Old geezer. Old buzzard. Indeed! Devlin's frown intensified. This was too much.
He'd celebrated his twenty-eighth birthday, hadn't lost his teeth and he'd never set foot in a
house of ill repute. He wanted to march in and set the young lady straight. As
a lawyer, he could deal with the legalities himself, but Eliot bade him not to
show. He would have to confront her once they married. If they married. It
didn't seem like such a good idea now. With his sigh he sounded rather like
Eliot.
"Katie,
I don't know what you're talking about. Where have you gotten such gross, and
might I add, asinine, misconceptions concerning the reputation of my
client?"
"I've
heard them from near everyone in town."
More so from Greta, Devlin
figured, but doubted she'd divulge that.
"If a whole town has
misconceptions they can't all be wrong? Your client has a sorry reputation," Kate went on to say.
"His
reputation is of the highest standard. I doubt the whole town maligned it.
Sounds like Greta to
me."
She
sniffed. Devlin wanted to tell her a thing or two about Greta, but he stayed
quiet and let Eliot deal with his sister-in-law.
"But,
let's not go into that. Did you even read the letter?" Eliot asked. He
twisted the gold chain on his fob as though he already knew the answer.
Devlin had his own suspicions.
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