Devil in My Arms Read Free

He’s quite mysterious, and one of Roger’s dearest friends in the world. As soon as those horrible men showed up looking for you I sent for Sir Hilary. When even he couldn’t find you—” She stopped abruptly and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Ellie, I was sure you were dead.”
    Eleanor tried to assess all that Harry had said. “What horrible men?” she asked quietly, dealing with most pressing issue first. “When were they here?”
    Harry pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and blew her nose. “They first came about three months ago, looking for you. Enderby sent them. They said you’d gone mad and run away from home or some such nonsense. I knew they were lying, and so I asked Sir Hilary to find you.”
    “First came?” Eleanor asked sharply. “You mean they’ve been back? How recently?”
    Harry nodded. “Yes, a couple of times. They became belligerent, sure we were lying when we said we didn’t know where you were. Sir Hilary said they were watching the house for some time. He had men watching them. Oh, it was all so confusing. But they left a few weeks ago. I suppose because they assumed the same thing we did, that you were dead.”
    “Good,” Eleanor said with satisfaction. “That’s exactly what I thought would happen. That’s why I stayed hidden so long. Although I’d hoped the misleading clues I left as to where I was going would keep them away from you.”
    “Eleanor,” Harry said with an exasperated huff. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
    “Of course, dear,” she said, reaching for Harry’s hand. “I’ve run away, just as they said, but I am not mad. I am free at last.” She bit her lip. “Your new husband, he won’t make me go back, will he?” She hoped not. The Roger she’d known when they were all so much younger hadn’t been that sort. He’d been a good boy, a friend and often a confidante. Truthfully, she’d always rather hoped he’d grow up and marry Harry.
    Harry looked utterly astonished. “Roger? Of course not! He hasn’t changed a bit, Ellie, from when we were children. He’d never do such a thing. He wouldn’t dream of it, not if you don’t want to go back. Why don’t you want to go back?”
    “It’s a very long story,” she said. “So I shall condense it for you. Enderby is a pig.I loathe him, and he feels the same way about me. The difference is, he can do something about it and I can’t. I have been a virtual prisoner at his house in Derbyshire for a decade. Which felt even longer than it sounds.” She sniffed, refusing to cry anymore over that loathsome fiend and what he’d done. “I can’t have children, you know,” she said calmly. “The fever, when I was five or six. The doctor said it did something to make me barren.”
    “I didn’t know,” Harry said, her cheeks burning as she covered her obvious pregnancy with her hands, as if embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be sorry,” she said, and she meant it. “Bringing a child into that house would have been a disservice. He doesn’t deserve to be a father.” She smiled. “And I’ve accepted it. I heard that you had a baby with Lord Mercer. Is he here?”
    “Oh, yes,” Harry said, glowing with maternal pride. “Mercy is upstairs, asleep. You shall meet him tomorrow.”
    Eleanor looked away, and she was confronted with her own image reflected back in the window, the night pitch black outside now. She wished she could open one of the windows. It suddenly seemed so terribly hot and airless in the room. “I tried to meet him when he was born,” she said. “I heard that you’d had him, and I escaped and ran to Merveille House, to you and Mercer, hoping to find sanctuary.”
    Harry grasped her hand in both of hers. “And you never made it?” she said sadly.
    “Oh, I made it all right,” Eleanor said indignantly, turning back to look at Harry. “Mercer promptly locked me up and sent for Enderby. The next day I was dragged home.”
    “What?” Harry