Lord of Darkness (Maiden Lane #5)(99)

“I love you, sick or not.” He raised his brows, searching her face for any signs of lingering nausea, but her cheeks were their regular healthy pink now. “Are you better?”

“It’s the oddest thing,” she said, coming up to him and slipping her hand through his elbow. The scent of orange blossoms drifted to his nostrils, welcome and warm. “Now I’m so hungry I could eat an entire fish pie. In fact, I would very much like a fish pie … and perhaps some scones with gooseberry jam. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

“Lovely,” he agreed, although privately he thought the combination of fish and sweet gooseberries might be … odd. “Have you told Cook?”

She shot him a look that privately he’d classified as “wifely”—he rather liked that look. “Godric, we can’t just ask Cook to make fish pies and go in search of gooseberry jam on a whim.”

“Why not?” he asked. “I pay her wages. If you want fish pie, you ought to have fish pie. And gooseberry jam.”

“Silly.” She shook her head and gazed at the apple tree again, softly murmuring, “Not dead at all.”

He smiled wryly because she pointed out the old apple tree every time they walked in the garden—at least once a day and more often twice—as an example of her gardening acumen.

It was a rather spectacular sight.

The tree had covered itself in an embarrassment of pink and white blossoms, a fragrant, joyous cloud that drew the eye as soon as one stepped into the garden. He was never, ever going to hear the end of this from Meggie.

Not that he was complaining.

“Oh, look,” Megs exclaimed. “A robin’s nest. And I saw baby bunnies hopping about yesterday evening. I didn’t know there was so much wildlife in the heart of London.”

“There never was before a goddess came to live here,” Godric muttered.

She glanced at him. “What?”

“Never mind.”

He wrapped his arms about her, watching with her as the robin took flight. No doubt his garden would be infested with squirrels and badgers and baby hedgehogs soon. Her magic was quite potent, it seemed.

Thank God.

He leaned down to murmur in her ear, “Have I told you how glad I am you invaded my house and turned my life upside down?”

She turned her head so that her cheek brushed his lips. “Every day”.

“Ah.” He smiled against her soft skin. “You saved me, you know.”

She shook her head again. “Silly.”

“It’s true,” he said, because it was. “And now I’m going to save you by demanding Cook make you a fish pie.”

She pursed her lips.

“Yes,” he insisted, turning her until she faced him. “Nothing is too good for the mother of my child.” Her cheeks deepened to rose and she bit her lip, though that didn’t stop the smile she was trying to stifle. “You’re sure now, aren’t you? That’s what this morning was about?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’m certain.”

The grin she gave him was brighter than the sun. It echoed the swell of happiness in his heart as he bent to capture her lips with his.

Together they turned to go into the house in search of fish pie and gooseberry jam.

Epilogue

“Wait!” Faith cried. “Where are you going?”

“To meet the Devil,” the Hellequin said.

“Then I shall come with you,” she replied.

He looked at her, and for a moment Faith thought she saw an emotion in his eyes: sorrow. Then he held out his hand to her.

Faith took his hand and he pulled her in one movement onto the back of the big black horse. She wrapped her arms around his middle and for a very long time they rode in silence through the Plain of Madness.

At last a towering stone arch appeared before them, jagged and black.

“Is this Hell?” Faith whispered.

“Yes,” the Hellequin said, “this is the mouth of Hell. Remember: whatever the Devil says to you, he has no power over you, for you live and breathe. He rules only the dead.”

Faith nodded and gripped the Hellequin tighter. The Hellequin rode the big black horse through the Mouth of Hell and into utter darkness. Faith looked about her, but she could see nothing and hear nothing. It was a place so hollow and bleak and cold that had she been alone, she might’ve simply shriveled up and lost herself. But Faith still held the Hellequin, and as she laid her cheek against his broad back, she heard the steady thump of his heart. A thing in the shape of a man appeared before them, and though he was pale and thin and not particularly tall, the utter void of humanity in his eyes made Faith shudder and look away.

Even so, the Hellequin took her hand and dismounted, leading her to stand with him before the thing.

“You’ve let loose the soul I sent you to collect,” the Devil said, for of course it was he.

The Hellequin bowed his head.

“You know,” the Devil said quietly, “what forfeit you must pay.”

Faith’s heart squeezed. “What is he talking about?” she asked the Hellequin. “What is the forfeit?”

“My soul,” the Hellequin replied. “The Devil demands a soul and since I lost one, I must pay him back with my own.” “No!” cried Faith.