Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace (50 page)

Lucifer noted the pleased smile, which graced the girl’s lips. Her hood had slipped from her head, and with the icy crystals mixing with the red gold of her hair, the woman reminded him of a snow princess he had once seen in a painting in a Viennese art museum.

“Why would you offer a complete stranger a position in your master’s household?” Her cultured tongue told Lucifer the girl was no country miss. The woman before him was a genteel lady. That particular fact only solidified Hill’s resolve to escort her to Cheshire. He would not leave any woman to suffer as he suspected this one had. He would do the correct thing, the only thing.

“Years prior, the viscount saved me from Death’s claws. He is a good man, and he would expect me to extend his benevolence to you.” He smiled easily. “If you pardon my saying so, Miss, you appear to have come upon hard times.”

“Be there children at His Lordship’s home?” she asked tentatively. “My sister was a governess. I had thought to find a similar position.”

Lucifer gave a slight shake of his head. He thought of the child Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes had whisked away from a distraught Lord Lexford. Lucifer had always thought if His Lordship had poured his love onto the babe the viscount would have found peace by now. He took a half step in the girl’s direction. “I fear not, but we can find you some other form of employment. At least, come with me to Cheshire. Spend several days with us. Recover your strength. Fortify your will to travel on.” The girl swayed in place, but Lucifer did not reach for her. She might think he meant her harm.

“I worked at an inn recently,” she protested weakly.

“For how long?” he coaxed.

Her eyes closed as if she was silently counting. “Five days.” She paused awkwardly. “The Pawleys fed me and gave me a warm place to sleep.”

Lucifer wondered if he might have to resort to kidnapping the girl. She possessed no skills to survive a winter on the road, and Lucifer meant to see her well. “Five days of charity proves the Pawleys worth knowing, but five days after how many weeks?”

The girl snarled her nose in remembrance. “Perhaps six.”

Lucifer edged closer in anticipation of seizing the girl. “Would you not wish for more days of warmth and nourishment? I can promise you Mrs. Osborne makes the finest lemon tarts in all England.”

The girl looked over her shoulder to the road behind her. “But Cheshire is the way I came. I cannot retrace my steps.”

Lucifer dug into his pocket to retrieve his purse. Fishing several coins from the leather pouch, he extended them toward the girl. “Come to work at Lexington Arms. Stay, at least, through Twelfth Night, and if you do not care for the place, use these coins to purchase your passage to London or wherever else you wish to go.”

“Why?” she asked skeptically. “Why do you insist on offering your assistance?” She looked off across the empty fields. “The last people I trusted stole all my money, as well as my mother’s locket. I have nothing of value remaining.”

“I want nothing from you, gel. I have me a beautiful angel, who claims to love the likes of me. And I have a comfortable home and a generous employer. For a man who has not always walked on Heaven’s path, I hold many blessings. I think it is time I become the Good Samaritan.” He extended his hand to her. “Come, Girl,” he encouraged. “You require what I offer.”

Although the rain had lessened, moisture from her eyes’ corners still caressed her cheeks. “Are you certain the viscount will not object?”

Lucifer breathed easier: He would win this battle. With an ironic chuckle, he said, “His Lordship will likely not realize you were not always part of his staff.” Thoughts of the injury, which had robbed Lord Lexford of his memory, were never far from Hill’s mind. He meant to see the viscount well.

He caught her elbow and directed the girl toward the flat bed wagon he drove. Lucifer knew better than to give her time to change her mind. The girl had required a bit of encouragement and a good dose of coercion. “It might be best if you sit in the back,” he suggested. “You can place the blankets about you. It won’t be much drier, but perhaps a bit warmer. I will set your bag under the seat.” He pressed the coins into her gloved hand as he lifted the girl to the wagon. “Sit back,” he ordered as he gathered the damp blankets he had stashed in a wooden crate beneath the bench and tucked them about her. “We still have a piece to go so stay as dry as possible.”

The girl nodded her gratitude. “May I…may I know the name of my benefactor?” She openly shivered from the cold.

“Name is Mr. Hill. Henry Hill, but most people call me Lucifer.”

She smiled at him, a smile that uncurled from her heart, and Hill thought she might be one of the prettiest girls of his acquaintance. The smile changed her face completely. “Lucifer? As in the Devil?”

“My mother once remarked I be devilishly large for my age,” he said with a shrug. “The description stuck. I have been Lucifer ever since.”

Through lips trembling from the cold, she said, “I am Mer…I am Mary,” she stammered. Lucifer heard untruths in her tone. “Mary…Mary Purefoy.”

Obviously, she wanted no one to know her true identity, a fact which confirmed Lucifer’s assumption of her being a runaway. “You should rest, Miss. We will be in Cheshire soon. When we reach Lexington Arms, we will test your skills in making a proper bed for yourself.” Leaving her to snuggle deeper into the blankets, Lucifer climbed onto the bench seat. With a cluck of his tongue and a flick of his wrist, he set the team in motion.

Purposely, he did not turn his head to look at her. He suspected the girl would watch him warily until she recognized he meant her no harm. Instead, Lucifer concentrated on maneuvering the wagon along the rough road and the problem of what to do with the girl he had just rescued. After some twenty minutes of pure silence, he secreted a glance in the girl’s direction. Finding her curled in a tight ball and fast asleep, he chuckled. The lady’s countenance spoke of her exhaustion. He knew what it meant to be hungry. Knew also of the hopelessness of those who traversed English roads in the wake of what some were calling the “year without summer.” As an innocent, less scrupulous travelers had robbed the girl of her few belongings, but she had not high tailed it to where she had come. The girl had spirit. Her actions spoke of both her desperation and her determination. Those qualities had increased Hill’s respect for his passenger.

Yet, he worried for her safety. Despite her earlier encounter with disaster, Miss Purefoy had accepted his tale after only minor encouragement. Her bravado aside, the girl had not learned her lesson; and his leaving her to her own devices would have been a mistake. She had trusted him not to defile her. Although not born to the role, Lucifer considered himself a gentleman, but most traveling English roads these days would not come close to that description. Before she reached London, some man would have the girl’s virginity by seduction or by force. Even now, she slept soundly in a steady rain in a rocking wagon. If not for his honor, he could claim the girl before she could put up a fight.

“The aristocracy,” he murmured in amusement. “The so-called ruling class.” Until he had met the members of the Realm, Hill had always disparaged the ignorance he had found among those of rank, but he had quickly discovered Lord Lexford’s acquaintances were the exceptions to the rule. He turned his head to study the girl more closely. She was nothing like the women His Lordship usually chose; yet, even on such a short acquaintance, Lucifer had hatched a plan of sorts. “Lord Lexford has always preferred his women dark of hair and soft of nature. Exactly like Miss Satiné and Lady Susan,” he thought aloud. “However, I think Lord Lexford requires a snow princess. A fiery blonde wood sprite instead of a dark fairy. One full of innocence and a bit of sauciness.” Lucifer smiled with the possibilities. “If Lord Lexford could discover happiness, then I would have no worries for my honor, and mayhap the viscount would hold no objections to my claiming my own contentment.”

Lucifer reached under the seat to retrieve the girl’s small bag. “Let me view what you think to be important in your life, Miss Purefoy.” He glanced again to where the girl’s head rested on a half-f seed sack. Removing his glove to lift the bag’s latch, Lucifer dug his right hand into the bag’s contents. His fingers traced their way through layers of silk and wool. Finally, he touched upon a stack of papers, and he closed his fist about the pages. Using his coat to shield the paper from the peppering rain, Lucifer lifted them high enough to where he might read them without removing his eyes from the road. “Letters,” he said under his breath. “With the directions to Mercy Nelson of Foresthill Hall in Lancashire.”

Before the girl could discover his deviousness, Lucifer returned the pages to her bag and replaced the satchel under the seat. “Mercy Nelson,” he whispered, rolling the name about his tongue. “Mercy. A much better name for a genteel lady than Mary Purefoy.” He chuckled with his next thoughts. “And exactly what His Lordship requires,” Hill said with assurance. “A touch of mercy.”

Darcy’s Passions: Pride and Prejudice Retold Through His Eyes Darcy’s Temptation: A Pride and Prejudice Sequel Captain Wentwoth’s Persuasion: Jane Austen’s Persuasion Retold Through His Eyes Vampire Darcy’s Desire: A Pride and Prejudice Paranormal Adventure The Phantom of Pemberley: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery Christmas at Pemberley: A Pride and Prejudice Sequel The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery “The Pemberley Ball” (short story in The Road to Pemberley anthology)

The Scandal of Lady Eleanor – Book 1 of the Realm Series

A Touch of Velvet – Book 2 of the Realm Series

A Touch of Cashémere – Book 3 of the Realm Series A Touch of Grace – Book 4 of the Realm Series

A Touch of Mercy – Book 5 of the Realm Series

A Touch of Love – Book 6 of the Realm Series

His: Two Regency Novellas (includes “His American Heartsong” a Realm novella and “His Irish Eve,” a sequel to The Phantom of Pemberley) The First Wives’ Club – Book 1 of the First Wives’ Trilogy Second Chances: The Courtship Wars

Honor and Hope: A Contemporary Romantica Based on Pride and Prejudice