by Tonya Brooks
“Elle's opera,” Tony reminded him, effectively taking the hint and dropping the taboo subject. “Promised my mistresses that I'd take 'em if they were good.” His grin became decidedly wicked. “They were very, very good.”
Discussing their mistresses was another matter altogether and entirely acceptable. After all, those women didn't have jealous husbands who would come seeking vengeance for being cuckolded, nor did they expect not to be discussed. They were amply compensated for their services and not in a position to complain about a bit of notoriety after all. Most of them quite enjoyed it.
~~~~~
“Haven't been to the theater in a while,” Nicholas admitted. “Lettice would probably enjoy it.” His dissatisfaction with his mistress had been more than obvious in the last few months, but he hadn't had the time or the inclination to find a replacement. Hopefully he wouldn't need to now.
“And so will you,” was predicted. “You've spent the last few weeks attending bloody balls every night, Nick. Enjoy the freedom while you can.”
Signaling the waiter for a refill, he lifted his glass in a toast and said, “To freedom. And the blessed end of it.” Tonight he would relax and unwind his body and his mind, because as soon as Devlin returned, Nicholas was going to start courting Scarlett.
Chapter Fifteen
Devil's Keep, England, 1800
Scarlett was sad and more than a little scared. The house was filled with strange people who kept calling Devlin, Your Grace, just like they did Nicky. The servants were all trying to hide their tears and everyone kept telling her that it would be all right, but she didn't believe them. Mommy and Daddy were gone, and they weren't ever coming back again.
Devlin had told her that they had gone to heaven and then he'd cried. It was the first time she'd ever seen her brother cry. Scarlett had cried, too. She'd cried buckets and buckets of tears, but it hadn't made mommy and daddy come back, and it had only made Devlin and Nicholas even sadder. And now she couldn't find either one of them.
What if they had gone to heaven, too?
At six years of age, the thought of being all alone terrified her. As quiet as a mouse, she crept through the house, and inched her way through the throng of people until she found Nicholas. Scarlett placed her small hand in his larger one and he looked down at her with a sad, lopsided smile.
~~~~~
Allowing children to mix with guests was considered the height of poor taste, but Nicholas Branvill didn't give a damn about society’s opinion. This was Scarlett's home and as far as he was concerned, she had more right to be in the drawing room than the members of the haute ton did. Ignoring the bystanders disapproving looks, the eighteen-year-old man scooped her up, hugged her against his chest, and asked gently, “You okay, kitten?”
Huge, bewildered emerald eyes met his as she shook her head. “I can't find Dev,” the little girl said anxiously, her lower lip trembling as she clung to his neck. “Did he go to heaven and leave me, too, Nicky?”
The fear in those big green eyes broke his heart and brought all of his protective instincts to the surface. Nicholas remembered all too vividly the pain and confusion of losing a parent as a child, and now he was experiencing it once again for the man who, to all intents and purposes, had been a father to him for the last eight years.
Losing both of her parents had to be devastating for Scarlett and he wanted nothing more than to ease her fears and take the pain away. He pressed a kiss atop the mop of red gold curls and hugged her a little tighter in reassurance. “No, kitten. Devlin isn't going to leave you,” Nicholas said with a tender smile.
Even though relief shown on her delicate features, her lower lip still held a noticeable tremble when she asked, “You won't ever leave me, will you, Nicky?”
“Never ever,” he vowed in complete seriousness and meant it. He would always be there for her if she needed him, and even if she didn't.
“You promise?” She asked with childlike faith that the power of a promise could make anything come true.
“I promise,” he nodded solemnly. “What do you say we go find Dev?” Nicholas offered and received a nod of agreement. He carried her through the house to the study, pausing outside the partially open door when it appeared that the new Duke of Langford and his grandmother were arguing.
~~~~~
“I am not sending Scarlett to live with you, Duchy,” Devlin refused emphatically. “She'd think she'd been completely abandoned.”
“Abandoned?” Juliette repeated in disbelief as if he had suggested something preposterous. “Nonsense. I am her grandmother. Who better to raise the girl than me?”
Devlin knew she was right. Hell, he didn't know how to raise a child. His sister would be better off living with Duchy, but he just couldn't do it. He and Scarlett had already lost their parents, the last thing either one of them needed was to lose each other as well. “No,” he refused flatly.
~~~~~
Juliette did not want to argue with her grandson, especially at a time like this, but what she was proposing was the best course of action for both of her grandchildren. Devlin was going to be taking on the vast responsibilities of a duke of the realm and wouldn't have the time to spend with Scarlett that she would require.
After losing her parents, the child was going to need all the love and attention that her grandmother would gladly provide. The last thing she needed now was to be turned over to the care of a governess. “Devlin, be reasonable. You can't possibly raise a little girl alone,” the dowager duchess protested. “She needs a woman to...”
~~~~~
Although she had not heard the entire conversation and did not know that her grandmother only had her best interests at heart, it still would not have made a difference to Scarlett. The thought of losing her beloved brothers was more than she could bear. “No!” Scarlett shouted and squirmed to get down. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she ran to her brother and when he scooped her into his arms, she clung fiercely to his neck and pled brokenly, “Please, don't make me go away, Dev. I wanna stay with you and Nicky. I'll be good. I promise. Please, please, let me stay.”
“You're not going anywhere, minx,” a damp eyed Duke of Langford assured her with gentle gruffness as he held her in a fierce embrace. “You and I will take care of each other from now on.”
“And Nicky, too?” She sniffed and burrowed her damp face against his shoulder.
“And Nick, too,” Devlin agreed as their grandmother sighed in exasperation.
Chapter Sixteen
Langford House, London, England, 1812
Scarlett entered the foyer and skidded to a halt when she saw they had a visitor. Her eyes went up, way up, to the face of the man standing before her. “Good God, you're huge!” She exclaimed in amazement and couldn't help staring at him incredulously.
~~~~~
There was genuine appreciation in the brown eyes that raked over her, as a slow, sensual smile touched his lips. Oh, yes. He liked what he saw and sincerely hoped this was not the duke's wife. It was considered bad form to lust after another man’s wife, especially one you were planning to do business with. “My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you.”
Regaining her composure, Scarlett replied, “You didn't. It's just... well, I've never seen a man who was bigger than my brother.”
So, she was the duke's sister. That was a much better scenario. He flashed his lady killer smile. “I'm pleased that height runs in your family. Most women make me feel like a giant.”
She couldn't help laughing at that. “For obvious reasons, I prefer big men.”
This just kept getting better. He stepped forward, hand extended and introduced himself. “I'm Richard Van Dorn.”
“Scarlett Ashbrook,” was the smiling response as she accepted the firm handshake. “I'm afraid I don't recognize your accent, Mr. Van Dorn.”
Definitely the sister. The investigator that he hired had reported that Langford’s sister, Scarlett, was making her come out and was being hailed as the season
’s original. Richard hadn’t had a clue what that had meant until now. The woman was stunningly beautiful and nowhere near as pompous as the average English lady he had come into contact with. She was an original all right, and he’d love to find out even more about her.
“I hail from New York City,” he admitted and was pleased when she did not turn up her pert little nose in disdain. Instead, her smile became brilliant.
“The states,” she said and her eyes sparkled with genuine excitement. “Have you ever met a savage?”
Richard blinked, his friendly expression becoming guarded as he asked, “Beg pardon?” It was a well-kept secret that one of his partners was named Savage and not something this lady or anyone else in England should have any knowledge of.
~~~~~
“The American Indians,” she clarified. “I believe they're called savages.”
His expression lightened. “Ah, no, I haven't. They don't usually reside in cities.”
“So I've heard,” she confessed with a laugh. One of her cousins, Alexander Ashbrook, the Earl of Blackhearst was half Cherokee Indian, and he detested cities, which is why he spent so much time at sea. “I've read all about your marvelous wild mustangs. You must tell me about them.”
~~~~~
“You have no idea how much I hate to admit that not only have I never seen one, but I know nothing about them,” he admitted regretfully and would be more than happy to expound on any topic if it would keep that sparkle of excitement in her emerald eyes.
“Hmm. I imagine they don't reside in cities either,” she teased.
The lady also had a delightful sense of humor he discovered. Richard grinned and admitted, “Not usually, no. But we do have our fair share of tame horses in New York.”
“Are you an equestrian, Mr. Van Dorn?”
“I don't ride as much as I'd like,” he admitted. “Finding a horse big enough to carry me isn't an easy chore.”
“Oh, I know of a horse who'd have no problem,” Scarlett assured him confidently. “He stands seventeen hands tall and is built like a destrier.”
“Sounds like quite a horse.”
“He is,” came the nod of confirmation. “He was bred from a Lusitano for trainability, an Andalusian for agility, an Arab for speed, and a Trakehner for size. I think he'd suit you well.”
“You seem to know quite a bit about horses,” he said in surprise and was impressed with her knowledge.
“I should,” she confessed with a laugh. “I grew up on a stud farm.”
“I wasn't aware that Langford raised horses,” he said with a frown and wondered if the dossier the investigator had provided on the duke was completely accurate.
“He doesn't. Nicky, the Duke of Ryder, owns Branvill Stables,” she explained. “He devised the most amazing breeding techniques for some of the finest stock in Europe. His racers are always winners.”
“I have heard that Ryder has a fine stable,” he admitted evenly and knew that from the dossier he’d received on Nicholas.
As a boy, during one of many visits to Moldavia, Nicholas Branvill’s uncle, the king, had presented him with a magnificent stallion which had sparked an avid interest in horseflesh. Years later, while on the grand tour, he had purchased, or received as gifts from the varying monarchies he visited, a fine stable of horses that he intended to breed. When he returned home, Nicholas had purchased the estate that adjoined Langford's and opened a stud farm.
Through careful selection, he bred some of the finest horses on the continent and made a tidy profit off of them. He also insisted on a high degree of training for those horses, which only increased their popularity. His racers invariably won, which added to the farm's reputation, and members of the peerage had actually come to fisticuffs over purchasing his stock.
“I can guarantee you won't find any better,” was said proudly.
“I presume Ryder owns this mighty steed you've recommended,” he deduced.
“Yes,” she laughingly confirmed. “Trojan is a spirited three-year-old, but so well trained even a child could safely ride him.”
“Trojan?” He queried.
She offered him a simply adorable smile and explained, “Nicky always lets me name his horses. The Odyssey is one of my favorite books, and when I saw the size of the horse, the first thing I thought of was...”
“The Trojan Horse,” he finished in amusement.
“Exactly,” she agreed and seemed pleased at his understanding.
“You are the most interesting woman I've ever had the pleasure of meeting, Miss Ashbrook,” Richard said sincerely. Not many women of his acquaintance knew or cared anything about horses, and even fewer still read the works of Homer.
~~~~~
Scarlett was charmed by the American. He hadn't tried to flatter her with nonsense like every other man she'd met. He thought she was interesting. She couldn't have been more pleased. Now this man would make a decent suitor, she realized. Not to mention he was extremely attractive. Not as handsome as Nicky, of course, but then no one was.
“Her ladyship should be addressed as Lady Scarlett or Baroness Montvale, Mr. Van Dorn,” came Davison's dry tone from behind them.
“Davy, don't be so pompous,” Scarlett chided lightly. “I didn't introduce myself properly.”
~~~~~
“My apologies, Lady Scarlett,” Richard said evenly before he turned to her butler and accepted the sheaf of documents the duke had left for him. He'd arrived for their appointment and been disappointed to discover that Langford had been called away. At least he had been until he'd discovered the man’s enchanting sister. “Thank you.”
“His Grace will contact you when he returns, Mr. Van Dorn,” the servant said by way of dismissal as he moved to the door and opened it. It was more than obvious that he did not approve of the man’s interest in the young lady.
Richard got the hint. Even English servants were snobbish it seemed. “Lady Scarlett, it was a pleasure meeting you,” he said cordially.
“Perhaps we shall meet again,” she said cheerfully and sounded as if she sincerely hoped they would.
“Count on it.”
~~~~~
Scarlett was thrilled to stay with her cousin and not suffer through yet another night with suitors following her around at the musicale and ball that their grandmother had planned for them to attend. However, when Blaise mentioned that he was attending a new opera that night, she and Taran decided that would be an excellent way to spend the evening and insisted on joining him.
This was the first time that Scarlett had attended the opera since it wasn't an activity that her grandmother particularly enjoyed. Apparently, having her husband’s mistress accost her during intermission had been enough to turn the dowager duchess against the arts for good. However, Devlin seemed to enjoy it a great deal, so they were using the box that he kept at a new theater called the Gilded Cage.
Scarlett could see how the name came to be. The room looked exactly like a gilded birdcage. The entire theater was round with the stage set in a pit at the center of the circle. The orchestra was located on one quarter of the ground floor surrounding the stage while the remainder of the circle was where the commoners sat.
White velvet draped arches ringed the circumference of the room, four tiers high, while each one of the boxes was painted a shimmering white trimmed in gilt. The massive chandelier hanging from the domed ceiling was filled with hundreds of candles that bathed the entire room with a warm golden glow. The effect was very dramatic and breathtaking to behold.
“It's beautiful,” she breathed in awe as she took her seat in a gilded chair upholstered in white velvet and stared around the room. Having been raised in very lavish homes, Scarlett was seriously impressed with the absolute grandeur of the place. The gold and white should have been a stark contrast, but the effect was startlingly beautiful in the semi-darkened room.
~~~~~
“It is, isn't it?” Taran agreed proudly and nodded toward the couple in the box next to theirs. “T
he gentleman sitting to our right is the owner, Trevor Sinclair. He built the theater for Elle Rutherford to perform and spared no expense.” Catching the frown of disapproval that Blaise gave her, she added, “Or so I've heard.”
~~~~~
Scarlett looked over at the rakishly handsome man in the adjoining box, a polite smile on her face. The rogue met her look and winked at her. Laughter bubbled up in her throat. Another rake. She had no trouble a'tall recognizing the breed, nor was she in the least bit offended by his outrageous behavior. In fact, Scarlett winked back at him and had the pleasure of seeing his look of surprise before he began to laugh at her audacity.
The lady with him turned to see what had caught her companion’s attention. She looked momentarily taken aback at the friendly smile on Scarlett's face before she offered a tentative smile of her own and faced forward again. She was an incredibly beautiful woman, probably as tall as Scarlett herself, with white blonde hair and eyes that appeared pure lavender.
“His wife is beautiful,” Scarlett informed her cousin.
~~~~~
“Oh, she's not his wife. That's Risa Daltry, his paramour,” Taran denied and received a nudge and a stern look from Blaise as he faked a coughing fit to silence the conversation. Priceless! Their scandalous cousin was trying to protect Scarlett from the unseemly truth. She nearly laughed aloud. Lord, after living with Devlin and Nicholas all these years, Scarlett probably knew more about such things than she did.
~~~~~
No wonder the other woman had been surprised by her smile, Scarlett realized since she recognized the name. Ladies did not acknowledge or consort with members of the demimonde, but the woman didn't exactly fit the image she had of what a mistress should look like. She was dressed as elegant and demure as the Ashbrook cousins were, and could pass for a lady with ease.
~~~~~
Turning her attention to their escort, Taran asked for the third time since he had arrived to pick them up. “Blaise, are you sure you feel up to this?”