“No sign of tears, my lord,” his valet responded, furrowing his brow in thought. And one feels it beyond one’s duties to physically restrain your lordship’s mother.”ĭevin sighed, closing his eye, and rolled onto his back. The thing is, her ladyship is threatening to come up here and wake you herself. I am sorry to awaken you, sir, but Lady Ravenscar and Lady Westhampton are below, asking for you.”ĭevin opened one eye and rolled it up to focus with bloodshot malevolence on his servant, hovering at the side of his bed. It was several hours later and the sun was well up when his valet shook his arm gently and whispered, “My lord. Time might not heal all wounds, but apparently, with a little help from brandy, it could make them more easily forgotten. When he’d first had it, he had stayed awake all night.
At least, after all these years, he could sleep after the dream. The shivering ceased, and his eyes drifted closed. He could not seem to keep a farthing in his pocket, but a bad dream he could hold on to for years. But he could depend on it popping up here and there throughout the months, at least two or three times a year. He had thought the dream would have stopped recurring by now. It was June, not really that cold, even for sleeping in only one’s dressing gown, but Devin knew that his bone-chilling coldness had less to do with the temperature than with his most persistent and discomfiting nightmare. Slowly, between the brandy and the warmth of the bedspread, his shivers slowed down, then stopped. He crawled into bed, the covers having been neatly turned back by his valet before he left last night, and wrapped the blankets around him. It was no wonder, he told himself, that he had had bad dreams. Clearly it had been enough that he had fallen asleep sitting up instead of crossing the few feet to his bed. How much had he had to drink last night? He couldn’t remember. He was still cold, despite the aid of the brandy, and he stood up and walked over to the bed, his gait a trifle unsteady. He ran his hand back through his thick black hair and took another drink. He took a quick gulp of the drink, warming as the fiery liquid rushed down his throat and exploded in his stomach. He picked up the bottle and poured some into the glass, his hand trembling so hard that the bottle clinked against the rim. A bottle of brandy and a gracefully curved snifter sat on the small table beside his chair. He had fallen asleep sitting up in his bedroom, dressing gown wrapped around him. It took a moment for him to realize where he was. “Christ!” He shivered, feeling cold to the bone, and lanced around. “Don’t! Let me help you!”ĭevin’s eyes flew open, blank at first, then slowly gaining understanding. “Don’t!” he yelled, grabbing futilely for her. She was sinking into the black water, her eyes closing. He stretched, straining every fiber of his being but she remained frustratingly beyond his reach. He reached out for her, but her hand was inches from his, and he could not move forward. “Dev! Help me! Save me!” Her shrill words echoed through the darkness. Dark seaweed wrapped around her chest, seemingly pulling her down into the roiling water.
Into the wild book chapters skin#
She was pale, her skin white with an undertone of gray, and water coated her skin and clothes. She reached up toward him, arms outstretched, eyes wide and pleading, mouth contorted in a death grimace. Could the man she had rescued be the man she had been supposed to meet tonight? Was it possible that this handsome, rather charming man who was good with his fists was the Earl of Ravenscar? And what would have happened if he had not been late to the party tonight? One thing she was certain of: if this man had been there, she would not have left early! “Perhaps you are right.”Īs they rode in the carriage, Miranda considered the situation. “Perhaps you ought to let us take you home,” Miranda suggested. Crazily, the thought that had come into her mind was that this was the man she wanted to marry. Never before had she felt that sizzle of excitement, that elemental pull of lust-or the strange, deep connection, as if somehow she knew him.
She had not seen his face clearly before, and now Miranda stared at him, stunned by the jolt of feeling that ran through her. “My deepest gratitude, madam, for coming to my rescue.
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