Devin escaped, but not before he heard Mabel say, “Has that boy actually come to his senses? I’ll speak to your mother, gel. I know just . . .”
He didn’t hear any more, didn’t need to. Jacinda’s ploy had just backfired on her, and hopefully, that would end her pursuit of him. Relieved, he returned to the edge of the crowd where Blythe expected to find him, and just in time, too. Lord Carlton Webb returned her to Devin’s side with a formal nod. But Blythe sighed as the young man moved off.
Devin glanced down at her. “What? Step on your feet, did he?” he teased.
“No. All he did was grouse about Viscount Altone the entire dance. While I wouldn’t have minded—Lord Robert is exceedingly handsome, after all—Lord Carlton had nothing good to say about him.”
Devin raised a brow, but Blythe’s next partner arrived and whisked her away. He did spot Carlton still weaving his way through the crowd and followed him, hoping he wasn’t heading toward his next dance partner. He wasn’t. He’d headed straight for the refreshments to grab a glass of champagne. Devin joined him and struck up a conversation.
The other two fellows Devin had talked to tonight had revealed nothing about themselves and, like Carlton Webb apparently, had only been interested in gossiping about Robert Brigston. This was not surprising. The chap was the current favorite on-dit, though the gossip had gone from mere curiosity prior to tonight to something entirely different now.
Jealousy and resentment were apparently running rampant in the room. Brigston was too handsome not to have the young debutantes tittering about him, but that was not why he was infuriating so many of the young gentlemen tonight. They were all here looking for wives this Season, but the new rumor circulating about the young viscount was that he wasn’t actually interested in matrimony and had merely come to London to have some fun. That was all well and good, but Devin would have to agree that a ball for debutantes wasn’t the right place for a young man to attempt to have fun. He ought to find out if this new gossip about Brigston was true, especially since he’d seen Amanda dancing with the chap.
But that was not why he followed Carlton. He actually hoped Webb had complained enough to Blythe that he was ready to converse about a new subject—himself. Devin should have known better.
“Never heard anything so preposterous,” Carlton said right off. “Brigston’s here to win Lady Amanda when he doesn’t even want her!”
“Lord Robert Brigston?” Devin clarified.
“Where have you been, old chap? Of course Brigston, the bloody man of the hour.”
Devin kept his expression neutral. “What gave you the impression he doesn’t want to marry?”
“Ain’t a guess. He told me himself!”
“Tonight?”
“’Course tonight. Never clapped eyes on him before and hope to never again. And I hope Lady Amanda ain’t fooled, but she probably will be. He’s turned all the ladies’ heads, as handsome as he is. And if he don’t want to get married, what’s he doing charming them all, eh?”
Devin almost laughed. “Let me hazard a guess, perhaps because he is charming?”
Carlton snorted. “If you ask me, he just wants to play the rake, racking up conquests, but his father nipped that in the bud by ordering him to win Norford’s daughter.”
Now that wasn’t amusing at all. “Groundless speculation, Webb, that you should keep to yourself.”
Carlton huffed and moved away. Devin didn’t know what to think now about the man of the hour. Probably half the men there would rather remain bachelors for a while, simply have some fun before settling down, but had joined the marriage mart at their parents’ behest. Dutiful sons, they’d do as told whether they liked it or not. Was Brigston only pretending to be dutiful? He hadn’t been told to marry, he’d been told to marry specifically one woman, Amanda Locke. If he subtly sabotaged his own chances with her, then he could honestly tell his father he’d failed and would win a reprieve from marriage.
That was if Webb could be believed, but the young man had been too worked up about it, and had tried to spread mere speculation, so really, everything he’d said had to be taken with a grain of salt. Especially since he was so obviously green with jealousy because he was sure he no longer stood a chance with Amanda, now that Brigston was on the scene. Devin wouldn’t even be surprised if the new gossip was solely Carlton’s spiteful doing.
On his way back to the edge of the dance floor where he would await Blythe, Devin caught sight of the man everyone was talking about—blond hair trimmed short, blue eyes, casually slouched posture. He stood alone watching the dancers, a glass of champagne in hand, a pensive look on his face. Perhaps he was foxed. That might explain some of the new gossip.
Devin stopped next to the young man, towering over him quite a bit. He didn’t say anything. He waited to see if Lord Robert would.
“A nice crop of lovelies to choose from, eh?” Robert Brigston said nonchalantly, casting a nod at the couples dancing past them. “Even your friend is quite a looker. Private stock?”
“Private stock?”
“Yours?” Robert said.
“Would you like to step outside?”
The young lord laughed, but it actually had an exaggerated sound to it. “Private stock it is! No need to get in a snit over it.”
Devin, knowing the young lord was deliberately trying to provoke him, said in a thoughtful tone, “You know, if you really don’t want to marry yet, behaving in a manner that blackens your name isn’t the way to go about it. Why don’t you just be honest with your father?”
Robert sighed. “I was. Didn’t do any good. Good God, man, I’m barely nineteen. Why the devil would I want to be leg-shackled? I’d never be faithful to a wife, it’s too bloody soon. I’d just make her as miserable as I am.”
“Which is a very good reason not to marry. But we’re not just talking about any wife, are we?”
“No,” Robert said bitterly. “I was supposed to have a good taste of life first. My father was in complete agreement with that, which makes this a double blow. Now he’s obsessed and has been from the moment he found out the Duke of Norford’s daughter was still on the marriage mart. Wants her in the family no matter what.”
“What if you fall in love with another woman?”
Robert rolled his eyes. “I think I’m in love with every pretty chit that smiles at me. What the deuce do I know about love?”
“That’s lust.”
“They’re not the same?”
Devin chuckled. “Not even close.”
Amanda glided past them on the dance floor just then, catching both their eyes. Bad timing.
“She’s a rare beauty,” Robert said with another sigh. “Can’t deny that. I suppose if I have to marry, I’ll at least get some enjoyment out of it with her.”
Devin was no longer amused. The boy was talking about bedding Amanda, and Devin had the urge to pound him to pulp for even having the thought. What the hell? Was he suddenly her guardian angel? But Brigston obviously wasn’t for her. The young lord didn’t know what he wanted out of life, he just knew a wife wasn’t it. And he’d make Devin’s job a lot harder if he caught Amanda’s fancy.
“I think you had the right idea to begin with,” Devin remarked.
“What’s that?”
“Blacken your name. If you really don’t have the guts to stand up to your father, then that’s an ingenious solution to your dilemma. Because the lady in question has relatives who will tear you apart if you trifle with her feelings.”
Devin had no idea what Amanda’s relatives would do. That threat had actually been from him.
Chapter Seventeen
AMANDA DIDN’T REALIZE HER foot was tapping impatiently. The music had started a few moments ago and her next dance partner was late. Who was daring to keep her waiting? She gave up wondering and opened her dance card to take a peek. Devin. He’d signed twice!
She leaned up on her tiptoes to see if he and his companion were standing where they’d been earlier
in the evening. They weren’t there, but she did catch sight of Blythe Pace being led out to the floor, but not by Devin. She sighed to herself. She should just suggest to Rebecca and Rupert that they all go home already. It had been a long night. The ball was almost over anyway. She’d pretty much decided to accept Devin’s dare, which she would probably end up regretting, so she ought to take more time to think about it instead of telling him tonight. But she had so hoped to have one more chance to talk to Robert before the night was over.
She’d heard the new gossip about him, of course. Her dance partners, each of them, had made a point of telling her the viscount hadn’t come to London to marry like the rest of them. Not that that would make any difference once he fell in love with her. The men in her family had all been confirmed bachelors until they’d fallen in love with the women who would become their wives. But she wasn’t accustomed to a gentleman being as boldly risqué as Robert had been, and while she’d assumed he’d just been teasing, what if he hadn’t been? That type of boldness was characteristic of a rake. But surely Robert was too young to be dissolute. Yet all rakes had to start somewhere, didn’t they?
His invitation for a private walk in the park had prompted her to give those thoughts more credence than she might otherwise have. A ride, as Kendall had suggested, with a footman or Ophelia along, was perfectly in order. But while a maid was an acceptable chaperone for most outings, that wasn’t the case for a meeting with a man. After all, a trusted maid would keep secrets if asked to, and a private walk with just a maid trailing behind was an opportunity for a gentleman to steal kisses! Robert had even mentioned doing so!
Yes, he was delightfully handsome and exciting, but he’d actually made her uncomfortable a few times, too, and she didn’t like that. Another talk with him could easily clear all that up, so she certainly wasn’t scratching him off as a contender for her heart. But in the meantime, her unease with the matter made Kendall the more preferable of the two. He was handsome, charming, and a perfect gentleman, and she didn’t doubt her family would approve of him. She couldn’t say the same about Robert—yet.
Devin finally arrived and extended his bent arm to her so she could lightly place her hand on it. When she didn’t do so immediately, he grinned, making her realize he was even turning another dance with him into a dare.
He might be able to help her to get back on a horse, but that would mean more contact with him, and more to the point, was it even possible to deal with him without losing her temper? Right now was a good time to find out, so she didn’t mention his tardiness and even gave him a slight smile before placing her fingertips on his arm.
Her tolerance was put to the test the moment he took her hand on the floor and began waltzing with her. “Why hasn’t your father arranged a marriage for you?”
The question was far too personal, so she just answered neutrally, “Because he promised he wouldn’t.”
“Yes, but why?”
And he’d called her persistent? But she was supposed to be practicing patience, a means to an end, so instead of telling him to mind his own business, she decided to simply tell him the truth.
“A few times over the last two years I actually wished he didn’t make that promise, though that was just my impatience kicking in because it was taking so long for love to find me. But my father married for love and he wanted nothing less for me and Rafe. Of course he won’t allow me to pick someone completely unsuitable, but he’s never once worried that I might. He trusted my brother, and he trusts me to make the right choice.”
“And you can’t make up your mind.”
She could feel her hackles rising. “That’s not it a’tall. My first Season was a complete waste of time in finding a husband because I spent it being so jealous of Ophelia, who’d had her come-out that Season as well, that I was positive every single man that year was already in love with her. So I ignored them all.”
“And last year?”
She pursed her lips. “Last year I took my brother’s advice to relax and just enjoy myself. A little too literally perhaps. Before I knew it, the Season was over and I still wasn’t in love yet.”
Devin gave her a thoughtful look. “So you’re saying this is the first Season you’re actually going to take this business of getting married seriously?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, but—yes. And I don’t need your help in that regard, so you can forget about spending your good deeds on me. But I am curious. How d’you go about it, being Cupid?”
He chuckled. “Not by shooting any arrows!”
To her utter amazement, she actually laughed. “No? And here I thought you must have your bow hidden in the room somewhere. But, seriously, how d’you figure out who is suited to whom?”
“Methodically. To begin with, I need to know the interests of both parties. Let’s take yourself for example—”
“No, let’s not. But what has that to do with anything? Or did you mean what I, or rather, your other female clients, find interesting about these young lords?”
“No, I meant your interests. What you enjoy doing. What you don’t like. And then I’ll find out which of your beaus have the same interests.”
“Stop using me as an example. Besides, I highly doubt any of these young men like needlepoint!”
“Actually . . .”
He was just teasing. The amusement in his eyes and his smile told her so, and she actually found herself laughing again. “I don’t believe it!”
“What else besides needlepoint?”
She didn’t remind him this time that he wasn’t her matchmaker, she was merely annoyed with herself for drawing a blank at a simple question like that. “I’d have to give that some thought—if we were actually discussing me.”
“No, you don’t. For instance, you like dancing.”
“I don’t, actually.”
He raised a brow. “Then what are you doing here?”
She grinned. “Are you joking? This is the marriage mart, on a grand scale.”
“Touché. Croquet?”
“I love it—well, I love beating my brother at it.”
“Then you’re competitive?”
“No, not really, just with him.”
“Sibling rivalry?” He shook his head. “Not exactly a typical interest, so let’s move on—”
“Stop right there.” She gave him a reproving look. “Really, I do not make a good example, and you’ve already satisfied my curiosity.”
“You know, Amanda, you can’t actually remove yourself from being the recipient of a good deed just by saying so. I’ve already taken you under my wing, which means you get my help regardless of your druthers.”
“The devil you have!”
“So you might as well tell me if any of these men here tonight strike your fancy—or if Lord Goswick is still your prime candidate?”
She clamped her mouth shut. He raised a brow at her, but then he grinned, drawing his own conclusions. “Goswick it is, then, and you know where my farm is. You’ll laugh at yourself for even hesitating, once I get you back in the saddle.”
“I am considering that.”
“I had a feeling you might.”
She ground her teeth at his smug tone. He knew she would because he’d made it a dare. She couldn’t resist adding, “I said considering, not that I’ve made up my mind about it yet. It’s not as if I’ve ever regretted not riding. My father keeps a lot of carriages and coaches at Norford Hall, so I much prefer to do my riding with a comfortable seat beneath me. But you’ve made your . . .” Her words trailed off.
His amber eyes suddenly turned lambent, a slow smile curving his lips. His hands even tightened slightly at her palm and her waist. She drew in her breath sharply, her pulse beginning to race. What the deuce was that feeling suddenly flipping about inside her? Her face and neck even felt flushed with heat when she wasn’t embarrassed over anything.
She tore her eyes off him. What just happened? Think! No, don’t think of that, think of something els
e.
“I’ve made what?” he said.
She latched onto his question almost desperately, but she kept her eyes averted from his as she replied, “You’ve made your case to give it a try. But how’s that going to work then, when they’re saying you just breed racehorses, which won’t do a’tall? I might like betting on the races, but I’m not about to try riding a horse that fast.”
He didn’t answer immediately, which brought her eyes back to his to see that she’d actually surprised him. “You go to the races?”
She didn’t mind answering, since she enjoyed it. “Yes, with my Aunt Julie when I’m in town.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “I’ve never seen you there and I miss very few races.”
“Well, of course you wouldn’t notice us. We watch from the comfort of my aunt’s coach, and she sends a footman off to place our bets. It’s the only thing she loves to gamble on, and I quite agree, it’s very thrilling when our picks win.”
“D’you often pick accurately?”
“More’n I lose!”
“You’ve amazed me. That’s one interest I wouldn’t have expected of a young lady.”
“Whyever not? We gamble at whist, we gamble at croquet, though that’s not nearly as much fun as winning at the races. But you know, I never would have thought of that as an interest of mine, probably because I’d never been to the races prior to my first Season in London. Now about my concern, do you have a suitable mount for lessons?”
“Already taken care of. I’ve had an ideal mount brought down from Lancashire.”
That rubbed her the wrong way. He’d been so sure she’d come to him for lessons that he’d arranged a mount in advance? “Well, if it doesn’t work out, at least Robert Brigston gained my notice tonight. And he doesn’t require me to ride a horse.”
His disapproval was immediate. She actually felt him tense. But he said rather tepidly. “He looks as young as he is, fresh out of school. Are you sure you want to further that acquaintance?”
Let Love Find You Page 11