That made him stop.
“Now, I will tell the two of you the first rule regarding men.” He gave them a hard stare. “You can refer to our looks in many different ways. ‘Handsome’ is good. ‘Good-looking’ works well, too. Even ‘nice’ is a splendid choice. However, never, ever, tell a man he is pretty.”
Penelope apparently found the subject intriguing, because she forgot all about her awkwardness and took a step closer.
As the true gentleman he was, he took one step closer to Fanny, who suddenly found herself pressed hard against the side of his body. Her eyes met his for a second, and the smoldering heat that washed over her made her knees go weak.
She didn’t care what he said. He was splendidly pretty, and she was almost scared by the power he possessed to affect her by a mere look.
Penelope didn’t notice Fanny’s obvious discomfort, as she was busy discussing with Devlin about why a man couldn’t be called pretty. Penelope by habit was very attentive and didn’t miss anything, but this time she did, and Fanny was thankful for it.
She had no secrets from her friend, and usually she told her everything. But this hurricane of strange feelings was new to her, and she had no idea how to describe them.
If she couldn’t clarify them even to herself, how would she ever be able to tell Penelope about them?
They started to walk again, slowly strolling under the large trees gracing the walk. The earlier embarrassment was soon forgotten, and the two young women found they had the best source of information about Devlin they possibly could find: the man himself.
“I heard your father died last year, and I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be.” He smiled at Fanny. “I’m not.”
“Are you not sad about your father’s demise, Your Grace?”
Penelope, who hadn’t the best connection with her own father, found the subject fascinating.
“No.”
Devlin’s curt answers weren’t as fascinating to hear, though, and Penelope had no choice but to change the subject. Fanny gave her friend a sympathetic smile, as she too had wanted to know more than he was willing to share.
“Have you any other family staying with you in town, Your Grace?”
“I don’t have any close relatives, so I am all by myself.”
“I’m so sorry,” Fanny breathed, horrified over such a predicament as not having any relatives. She would have missed hers immensely if she had not had them.
“Don’t be,” he repeated softly. “You can’t miss what you never had. My mother died when I was a small child, and I have no memories of her. I am an only child, just as my parents each were. I have no aunts, uncles, or cousins, therefore, either.”
“Oh,” Fanny sighed, devastated over what seemed a fate worse than death, and she saw the other two share an amused look, but she decided wisely enough to let it pass.
Penelope, who didn’t want to waste this opportunity to delve deep into the secret world of men, quickly changed the subject. “Is it true there are bets placed in a book in one of the clubs? Bets about silly things like when someone will propose, who will ask who for a dance, and so on?”
Devlin arched an eyebrow, and Penelope looked back with too-innocent eyes, trying to hide her curiosity.
“How is it possible you know about the bets?”
“I have ears.” Penelope gave him a fast smile, encouraging him to tell them more about these all-man secrets. Fanny couldn’t help but admire her friend’s bluntness; Penelope on a mission was unstoppable.
“Why should I tell you?”
“Why not? There is no harm in telling us. We won’t tell anyone else. Right, Penny?” Fanny interceded, and Penelope nodded in agreement, garnering them another amused look.
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Oh, come on.” Without thinking, Fanny tightened her grip of his arm, and he sent her one of those hot wicked grins, which silently challenged her to do something more than just touch his arm. Blushing, she loosened her grip again, and he made a disappointed face. “Coward,” he mouthed.
“Just tell us about the last placed bet you heard about.” Penelope flashed him another encouraging smile, and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing.
“If I tell you all about the last bet, will you please change the subject, and stop behaving like two annoying flies?”
Both young women nodded solemnly, and he had a sinking feeling they wouldn’t let anything go.
“It will be embarrassing for you, though, Pup.”
Fanny blushed with pleasure at his use of her childhood nickname and tried to ignore Penelope’s knowing smile.
“For me?” she asked surprised. “I am in the book of bets?”
“Yes, you are.”
“I wonder about what,” she said, and chewed her lower lip, effectively drawing Devlin’s eyes to her mouth. The heat of his eyes made her tremble, and his eyes darkened even more when he felt her response to him.
For the first time ever, Fanny wished Penelope would just disappear and take the chaperoning maid with her. She wanted desperately to be alone with her duke, to find out what the burning promise she could see in his eyes was all about.
However, as Penelope wouldn’t leave, Fanny took a deep breath to strengthen herself. She had to stop acting like this every time they met. If she continued with this fluttering around him whenever he was near, soon he would think she was in love with him, and nothing could be farther from the truth than her having warm feelings for him.
Nothing.
“Do you want to know?”
“Yes!” Both young women answered in unison.
“Remember, you asked for it.”
“Yes! Just tell us!” Penelope was having a hard time staying polite in response to his delaying tactics.
“The last bet I heard about was Lord Danville’s. He said I would propose to you, Pup, before the end of this month.”
Chapter 8
Fanny didn’t know how she managed not to ask “Will you?” but she somehow succeeded, and she was forever thankful for it.
The subject was too embarrassing as it was, and she didn’t need to enlarge it into something unbearable.
Meeting Devlin’s golden eyes, she saw him silently daring her to ask her question, but she was forever a coward. She didn’t have it in her to blurt the question out.
When they reached the picnic area, their acquaintances came to greet them. Devlin nodded gracefully to those he knew, but he did not stop for anyone until he reached the Darling family.
Fanny hid a smile when she saw his surprise that her entire family was there, every single member of the Darlings except her grandparents and her uncle Charles, who almost never left Chester Park. It would take more than her first ball to make those three leave the premises of their country home.
“Why are you so surprised?” Fanny asked, with a tender smile toward her kin, and Devlin looked down at her with his golden eyes. “Don’t you remember the tale of the royal family? I know Rake told you.”
“The royal family?” Devlin frowned, not remembering this specific tale at all.
“Oh, I love the tale of the royal family.” Penelope breathed dreamily. “It’s so romantic, and yet so sad.”
“Sad?” Fanny laughed at her friend. “How can you call the lives of my beloved family sad? To me, it is anything but sad. It is all about love.”
“I meant the duke’s story, of course. Losing a wife so young; it must have been devastating for him. All alone in the world with three small sons. It is a wonder he managed to see it through.”
Devlin rolled his eyes over such romantic nonsense, and Fanny had to bite her lower lip, as Penelope looked like she would give anything to be able to kick his shin. Hard.
“Please enlighten me. What is the tale of the royal family? I would venture to say it has nothing to do with King George and relatives?”
“Well…” Fanny beckoned him a little closer as if she was about to spill England’s most guard
ed secrets and not only the history of her family. She had always loved a little drama, and as Devlin gave her an amused grin, she could only guess he did, too. “It was King George who started to call us “the true royal family,” and so I have to say he is involved in this, although in the smallest way.”
“King George called you the royal family?”
“Yes indeed. King George and Grand-Papa went to school together and have been friends ever since. My father, who is the firstborn son of Grand-Papa, is named after King George, who also is his godfather.”
She could see he was impressed by her family’s close personal connection to the king, but as she had grown up with the knowledge of it, she didn’t think so much of it herself. To her, the king was a kind man who every year sent the most wonderful gifts at Christmas.
Or at least he had until his mind started to fail him. Now it had been a couple of years since they last heard from him, and she could only hope he had a good life in spite of his sickness.
“Is your father the reason he called you ‘the royal family’?”
“No, the nickname came later, when Grand-Papa continued to sire sons and named them all after kings of England. His first wife, Grand-Mama Georgiana, gave birth to George, Henry, and Charles, and his second wife, Grand-Mama Anna, continued with Edward, William, James, and Richard.”
Devlin grinned in acknowledgment.
“I do remember this, now that you mention all the names. Rake did tell me about it. Your poor Grand-Papa, who so desperately wanted a daughter, and all he got was sons.”
“And hadn’t the fantasy enough to come up with other names than those of earlier kings.”
“But didn’t any of your grandmothers have any say about what to name the children?”
“Apparently not.”
“Hannibal’s quite stubborn sometimes, I guess.”
Fanny nodded and gave him her cheekiest grin before she put her arm around Penelope’s waist to bring her friend into the conversation.
She had to admit she liked the way Devlin made her feel when he watched her so intensely. Having his full attention made it seem as though they were the only two people in Green Park. But Penelope was her friend, and she had started to look a little abandoned.
“Not as stubborn as his granddaughter,” Penelope said with a faint smile, which faltered when the golden eyes centered on her.
“It runs in the family.” Fanny smiled.
Devlin looked at the large collection of people, all related to her in some way or another, and for one unguarded moment she could sense the envy he felt.
It saddened her that someone could be so lonely. He had no close relatives. How alone he must feel.
She looked at her loved ones and couldn’t think how life would be without them. They were such a close family, and they all shared the same homes, a highly unusual arrangement.
Their country home was the ancient castle, Chester Park, where Hannibal ruled the world and where they all stayed, off season. When in London, they all used the townhouse at Berkeley Square, an enormous house that took up almost an entire block.
“Ah, there is my family.” Penelope interrupted Fanny’s thoughts and gave her friend a warm hug. “I’ll have to join them before they get worried. It was very nice to meet you, Your Grace. I do think we will see much more of each other in the future.”
As Devlin bowed, Penelope curtsied and, before Fanny could stop her, twirled around and disappeared among the surrounding socialites.
Fanny gave Devlin an awkward smile, not knowing what to say to him now, when it was only the two of them. He was so magnificent, and if she could, she would gladly have stood there for the rest of the day, simply gawking at him.
He was sartorially perfect in every detail, and she guessed not one single strand of his black hair dared to move from its place and disrupt the perfection. His clothes were the height of fashion, and everything sat exactly as it should. If she hadn’t known better, she would have guessed they had been sewn upon him.
“You are lucky to have so many people who love you,” he said.
“I know. They are a colorful group, but I love them all dearly, without any restrictions whatsoever.”
Devlin nodded, sadness spreading over his beautiful face, and she wished she could do something to ease his loneliness.
“It must be so hard for you, since your father passed away.”
“We were never close, so there was nothing hard about it at all.”
His golden eyes lost their emotion and turned cold and dead, and she cursed silently. She should never have mentioned his father. Of course she knew all about his hateful relationship with his father. Uncle Rake was a perfect source whenever she wanted information about anyone, and especially about Devlin. What had she been thinking?
She tried to backpeddle. “It can be hard, even if you are not close.”
He looked down at her, curious about what she meant.
“You lost your father, and even though you were as far away as two people who know each other can be, he still was your father. As I see it, a very big part of your life is now missing.”
“I didn’t need him when he was alive, and I rejoice now when he is dead. There is nothing more to it.”
Yes, there is, she wanted to yell, but she held her tongue. Now wasn’t the right moment, and she certainly wasn’t the right person. It had to be someone who had known the old duke, someone who knew what Devlin had suffered.
Someone such as her Uncle Rake.
She looked at her uncle as he stood talking to her father and promised herself to talk to him about Devlin. The faint horror in Devlin’s voice made her scared for him, and she wanted to make sure he didn’t close it all deep inside.
She sighed, and then blushed when he looked down at her with a grin. Of course he had heard the sigh.
“Is there something bothering you, Lady Francesca?”
“Only the same old things, Your Grace.”
His grin became more wicked when she followed his teasing lead, and he leaned closer, until she almost could see the stubble on his chin.
“Do tell me, Lady Francesca, what these old things might be?”
She leaned closer to him, until she felt his breath against her face. She saw his eyes change again, becoming warmer until they were burning as liquid gold.
“Many things bother me, Your Grace, but only one thing haunts me day and night.”
“Do tell me,” he whispered, mesmerizing her with his soft tone. “What can haunt a young lady such as yourself?”
“Pretty men, Your Grace.”
He blinked, and blinked again before he threw his head back and roared with laughter.
The chatter around them grew quiet for a moment before the mumble restarted excitedly, and Fanny had no problem guessing the new topic of conversation.
Devlin, too, noticed the sudden interest given to them, and he drew back slightly, keeping some distance between Fanny and himself. He offered her his arm, and she put her hand lightly in the crook of it, enjoying the feeling of the muscles beneath her fingers.
“You are lucky to have such a close, loving family,” Devlin said lightly, as if the hot teasing hadn’t happened. “I must admit I am most envious.”
Fanny couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed.
The intense minutes earlier had been so interesting, and she was indeed curious to know what would have happened if the moment hadn’t been lost. But she followed his lead again and kept her voice light.
“I think I can remember Uncle Rake telling me that you have an aunt?”
“Yes, well, a cousin once removed, to be precise. Her name is Delia.”
“Well, that’s nice. You have someone.”
“Not as nice as you think. Delia is my mother’s cousin, and she lives with her two children in my home in Herefordshire.”
Fanny searched her memory. She knew she had heard the name of Devlin’s ancestral castle mentioned. What was it? Oh, yes.
�
�Pendragon is the name of your country home, isn’t it?”
“Why, yes.”
He didn’t have to be so pleased that she knew what his country home was called. But he obviously was.
He gave her a knowing smile, and she couldn’t stop her treacherous cheeks from turning red.
“But you have two cousins—second cousins, to be more precise,” Fanny realized a little late. “Are they of the same age as you?”
“No, they are younger, more of your age. I hardly know them, as I was already living at Eton when Delia’s husband died and they had to move in with us. And as I continued directly from school to the army, I haven’t spent much time with them as an adult, either.”
“That’s so sad.” Fanny couldn’t stop feeling sorry for the threesome forced to live in a faraway castle when they lost husband and father.
Devlin, who obviously didn’t share her feelings, snorted.
“No, it is not sad at all. They have had comfortable lives at Pendragon for almost fifteen years now and should be thankful instead of demanding.”
“Demanding?”
“Delia, my selfish little aunt, thinks I should bring them to London now my father is dead and has no more use of them at the castle. She writes to me every day, and sometimes I feel I am drowning in the pile of letters.”
“Why not give in to her wish and bring them here? I can understand how your young cousin must be looking forward to having her own debut season.”
“Not as long as I’m alive.”
Fanny took a step away from him, and looked at him in shock.
“Don’t you think you are being selfish? Think of your poor aunt, forced to live all those years in the countryside, longing for the pleasures of London, believing her life would change with your father’s death...”
Devlin arched an amused eyebrow at her choice of words, but she didn’t let him interrupt her.
“You must bring them here to London, so they too can continue with their lives.”
“You think?”
“Yes, Your Grace. So is my wish.”
Devlin must have found her words amusing, as he laughed again, another head-turning laugh that made her heart skip a beat.
A Family Affair Page 7