Read Online The Bride of Devil's Acre by Jennifer Kohout - Free Book Online Page B

matters?” he finally asked.
    Andrew paused to consider his answer. “Like many things, it often depends on the circumstances.”
    “You know the circumstances,” Devil said. Andrew, better than anyone, knew what he was trying to accomplish, and what drove him.
    “Yes, I suppose I do,” Andrew said sadly. “Intent always matters, but God gave us free will, and with it comes responsibility.”
    Devil was quiet for a moment. Free will. Did any of them actually have free will? God may have intended it to be so, but every choice, every decision Devil made was in response to forces too often beyond his control.  
    Devil’s mother had been a whore, working at a brothel he now owned. It had been one of the first businesses he’d bought. How was that for choices? He didn’t know who his father was. He could have been any one of his mother’s clients, just as likely a lord as a merchant.  
    Everything in Devil’s life could be attributed to the one event he couldn’t change; his birth. So, how was that free will?
    “I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
    “Of course not,” Andrew was quick to agree. Devil was, at heart, a good man, if a bit tarnished. “But you made a choice and set yourself along a path. Our lives do not progress in isolation, and our choices have consequences.”
    Devil barely stifled a curse. He wouldn’t disrespect Andrew in the man’s house, but it was the same thing Finn had said to him before disappearing into the Petal & Thorn.
    “Whatever your intent—good, bad or indifferent,—he young lady has suffered grievous harm,” Andrew said. Though he could only guess at the girl’s fate, he knew that something serious had brought Devil to him today. “And you bear the burden of making it right.”
    “I made it right,” Devil said. “The man responsible is dead.”
    Andrew said a silent prayer. Not for the dead man, but for a friend so comfortable with death.
    “That doesn’t right the wrong,” Andrew said. “That was punishment of the guilty for the crime.” Though true judgment would come when the man stood before his Lord.
    “You don’t think knowing her rapist is dead brings the girl some comfort?” Devil demanded. It certainly made him feel better.
    Rapist? This time Andrew prayed out loud.
    “I can’t speak for the girl,” he said to Devil, “but I am sure there is peace in knowing the man responsible can never hurt her again.” Then Andrew grew quiet, trying to think of a way to help his friend understand. “Punishment, retribution, revenge—these are all words we use to address a past injury. They do not offer much comfort in the dark times to come.”
    Devil crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at his feet. His shoes were scuffed from the walk to Westminster, their shine dull from the street dust.
    “I don’t know how to comfort a woman,” Devil said, without looking up. Not that he would have the chance. Lady Edwards was back home, safe in the bosom of her father’s love. He’d ridden home with her himself, slipping out of the hackney and watching from the shadows as the driver’s knock brought Lord Edwards running.
    “Women are like anyone,” Andrew said gently. “You have to listen to understand what they need.”
    “Well, this woman certainly isn’t speaking to me,” Devil said, a sardonic smile tugging at his lips.
    “Perhaps not,” Andrew said. He didn’t share his friend’s smile. Devil was a man made hard by his childhood, and his choices. Something told him that Devil was about to find out where his breaking point was. “But something is speaking to you; otherwise, you wouldn’t be here seeking my advice.”
    “I didn’t come here for advice,” Devil said, shaking off Andrew’s words. “I came to give you this.”
    Andrew accepted the envelope. It was twice as thick as usual. “You cannot pay God to ease your conscience.”
    “I’m not,” Devil said, rising and stepping into the aisle. “That’s what I pay you