Page 45 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
Deciding her tiny weapon would do little to deter a determined Lord Tipton, she pulled the chair she had placed near her bed closer to his side. “I have heard you prefer to follow your own rules. However, calling on a lady in the middle of the night seems peculiar even for you.”
“Why does Bedegrayne call you a dove? With the tartness in your tone I think of something with a little bit more claw, like a hawk.”
Amara did not answer the question. She doubted His Lordship came to discuss Brock’s predilection for childish pet names. “You say you bring news?”
Tipton hesitated. “I hope I have not judged you incorrectly, Amara. What I am about to tell you will put someone’s life at risk.”
“Really?” She could not think of why he felt the need to share such knowledge with her. Unless this did have something to do with Brock. She could not ask. To do so would reveal her feelings to a man who she suspected knew exactly how to manipulate people, using their secrets. “The only person I ever cared about was buried today. I do not see how your news could affect me.”
“You did not bury him.”
Her mouth parted in horror. This man was a surgeon. He probably knew his fair share of resurrection men. “Has someone sold you Doran’s corpse?”
“Come now,” he snapped, his body rigid as if prepared to spring. “Don’t faint on me, Amara. No one sold me his corpse,” he said, smiling at some hidden joke. “I did, nevertheless, take possession of his body.”
“You speak in riddles, my lord.”
“Doran did not die of a seizure. We only gave the guards a show so I could buy his corpse for my dissecting table.”
The room reeled as she searched for her equilibrium. “Doran. He’s alive.” She could hardly bear to believe it, fearing it was a cruel lie.
“Yes, and presently on a ship sailing…” He paused. “I think it’s wise that I keep that information to myself. I did promise Claeg that I would approach you when it was safe to do so and tell you not to grieve for him. He is satisfied with his choice.”
Amara closed her eyes and the tears she was holding fell down her cheeks. “Will I ever see him again?”
Tipton frowned. “It will never be safe for him to return to England.”
“I understand.” Doran was alive, yet she was still alone. She, too, would have to be satisfied. “You risked much to tell me this. You have my thanks.”
Not used to anyone’s gratitude, he shrugged it off. “I keep my promises. I am leaving town and do not know when I will return. I did not think it fair for you to suffer in my absence.”
Amara suddenly felt lighter. She had not known the weight of her grief until it was lifted. “I cannot believe you would leave Devona unattended for long.” She had not been so caught up in her own troubles not to have noticed how the two of them had looked at each other.
Tipton gave her a rueful grin, reminding him that hidden in the shadows of his soul there was a man. One who felt, and maybe even loved. “After this night, I shall never leave Devona alone. I have applied for the post as her personal keeper.”
***
Devona stood aside, waiting for the servants to carry in her trunks. Her hand squeezed her reticule. Within it, she held the certificate of her marriage. Her debt to Tipton had been paid. She was a married woman. A wistful longing twisted her heart. A hasty flight to Scotland had not been spun from girlish dreams. None of it seemed real without having her family by her side.
With Devona dressed in a light blue dress and her sister’s new bonnet, which Wynne had insisted she keep, the ceremony had been quiet and swift. The parson’s wife and the cook had been their witnesses.
Devona held her hand in the light so she could admire the ring Rayne had given her. The setting held two bloodred rubies, just like two hearts, she thought, her romantic inclinations showing. Inside there had been an inscription.Forever, I am thine.If she had not made the deal with Tipton she would have considered the sentiment romantic. A wry grin revealed a dimple on her right cheek. Knowing her new husband, she realized the inscription was a reminder that she would never be free of him. The inscription proved something she had suspected on their journey north. It was proof that their sudden marriage had been under his direction for some time. She was not certain if she was pleased or frightened at the precision of the execution.
“Best wishes, mum.” The departing men tugged on their caps and left the room.
She gazed about the room, wondering what she should do. She and Rayne would only be staying the night. The room was sparsely decorated, the prominent piece of furniture being the bed. Many couples quickly married, then moved upstairs to consummate their marriage before the pursuing family could separate the newly married couple. There was little the family could do to annul the marriage if the bride could already be carrying her husband’s child.
Devona doubted her family was rushing north to save her from Tipton. Papa may have been reluctant to offer his blessing to the match, but strangely, Brock had supported her decision. To her relief, her brother had ceased issuing those ridiculous challenges to Tipton. Wynne also had seemed genuinely happy for her. As for Irene and Nyle, they would follow their father’s decree.
Devona’s husband entered the room. Had she thought this room large? Standing in front of him, the two of them alone for the first time since they had spoken their vows, she felt the walls closing in on her.
“Do you have everything you need?” he asked. The simple task of removing his hat and setting it aside sent a wave of anticipation from head to toe.
“More than enough for one night.”Rayne.She wanted to say his name aloud. She was his wife. There were no social barriers to distance them anymore. Only the pact they had made.
“I will save your precious Claeg if you are willing to pay the price.”
“What do you want?”
