by Gaelen Foley
There were several seating areas with gilt-wood chairs and settees upholstered in flowery silk brocade. A few guests lounged in them, chatting and languidly waving their fans. Portraits in ornately carved gilded frames hung on the walls; beneath their feet stretched a colorful carpet in a Greek honeysuckle motif.
Devlin showed Lizzie over to an armchair and sat on the matching stool across from her while Jacinda, her watchful chaperon for the evening, stood a few feet away, introducing Billy to more of the ton’s elite. Jacinda sent Lizzie an inquiring glance from behind her fan, her dark eyes asking, Are you all right? Lizzie responded with a subtle nod, then turned her uncertain gaze to Devlin.
He was staring at her with the most earnest look on his face that she had ever seen.
“You look incredible,” he whispered.
She smiled and dropped her gaze with a blush stealing into her cheeks. It was a good start, she had to admit. “I received the books you sent. Thanks.”
“Thank you for agreeing to hear me out. I’m not sure I deserve it.”
“Ah, well, my generous nature is legendary,” she said in self-deprecating humor, then looked cautiously into his eyes. “What was it you wanted to say?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “That I capitulate.”
She furrowed her brow in question.
“Never ventured into this before,” he said. “I have no idea how it’s done, so you will have to bear with me. I will no doubt try your patience, repeatedly. But I won’t play any more games, Lizzie. No more bribes. No abductions. In short, I’m giving you the reins.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” she asked warily, her heart pounding.
He let out a huge sigh. “It means you made me think long and hard on all that you said. You were right on so many points. Look, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing when it comes to love, but I’m willing to try. Are you?”
Lizzie felt a tremor of awe run through her, but she swallowed hard, refusing to walk into something that seemed too good to be true. “You’re only telling me what you think I want to hear so you can claim your inheritance. This is because of the money. Admit it.”
“Oh, yes, completely,” he whispered with a rakish smile spreading over his lips and a deepening smolder coming into his eyes. “All I could possibly want is the money,” he agreed as his stare inched down her body. “It has nothing to do with your beauty or brains. Your integrity, the way you care about the people around you. Not your wit, your honesty. And of course it has nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t been with a woman since I came to your bed back in February.”
“Devlin!” she forced out in a breathless tone, slightly scandalized by his admission. Fluttering her fan with a nervous air, she glanced around to make sure no one had heard him.
He smiled in faint amusement at her. “Lizzie. I’ve wanted us to be together since I met you, and you know it’s true, because even in Bath, I offered to make you my mistress. To you, it may have seemed like an insult, but for me, that was a fairly big step. I want to do right by you. You’re good for me, and I think I’m good for you.”
“Don’t toy with me, Devlin.” She could barely find her voice. “You could hurt me so badly.”
“I won’t.” He leaned nearer. “I’m not Alec. You’ve got to trust me, Lizzie. You’ve at least got to give me a chance. That’s only fair.” He took her hand gently between both of his.
She noticed Billy eyeing her with a protective frown, until Jacinda reached up and caught her husband’s chin between her fingers, turning his attention back to herself again with tender insistence that seemed to say, Leave them alone.
“Here’s what I propose,” Devlin murmured, gazing into her eyes. “Let me court you properly, by the book. Let’s try it out, see what happens. We’ll take it slowly; do the things that courting couples do, and see if we might actually suit. If, at the end of the three months my aunt’s will specified, we feel that we do, then we’ll marry. If we don’t—”
“Then they’ll throw you into the Fleet.”
“That’s not your problem,” he soothed. “Don’t worry your pretty head about me, chérie. I’ll survive.”
She plucked her hand gingerly out of his light hold and scanned his finely chiseled face in suspicion. “I’m still not sure what to make of all this. Why are you being so nice?”
“Oh, it’s really rather simple,” he answered, lounging back on his hands with a worldly smile. “When you bested me the other night, rode off on that silly pony—” Soft amusement played at his lips at the memory, his gaze faraway. “—I discovered that it is not ‘winning’ for me if it’s ‘losing’ for you. Surely you must’ve realized how easily I could have recaptured you if I had wanted to.”
“But you let me go,” she said softly. “Why?”
“Because I was wrong in the first place, and because I realized I can’t be happy in all this unless you’re happy, too.”
“Devlin?” she murmured cautiously, studying him in wonder. “I think that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Well, then.” He sent her a lazy, provoking grin. “Perhaps I shall prove to have a knack for this love business, after all.”
“Devil,” she whispered, laughing as she blushed and dropped her gaze.
“Dare I hope that pretty smile means you are amenable to my suit, Miss Carlisle? Will you let me court you?”
As if she could say no.
“I was told once you would dare anything, Lord Strathmore,” she answered shyly.
“Really? Me? Such tales people tell,” he replied in a chiding whisper, leaning closer.
Lizzie felt herself swept up in the magnetic pull of his attraction, losing all awareness of the other guests in the room. She longed for his kiss, and he seemed more than willing to oblige her, but her neophyte chaperon suddenly stepped between them.
“Now, then, darlings, shall we take a stroll in the garden?” Jacinda interrupted brightly.
“Absolutely,” Dev replied, sending Lizzie a twinkling glance.
After he helped her gallantly to her feet, the four of them left the house through the French doors that opened onto the grounds. Outside in the balmy spring twilight, Devlin’s protective touch at her elbow steered her toward the striped open tents where refreshments had been set up. Jacinda dispatched the men to fetch them each a goblet of champagne punch. The moment their broad backs were turned, Lizzie spun to face her friend with a wide-eyed look.
“Well?” Jacinda prodded.
Lizzie gripped her forearm, trying to contain her crazed joy. “Oh, Jas,” she whispered. “He’s adorable!”
Jacinda barely suppressed a girlish squeal of excitement. “Do you love him?”
“A little, I think!” She giggled, her eyes sparkling, cheeks aglow.
“Oh, Lizzie, he really is perfect for you! He’s just dev-ine!”
Lizzie elbowed her, fighting laughter. “Dev-astating!”
“I’ll bet you can hardly wait to dev-our him! Good Lord, I thought he was going to kiss you right there in the drawing room!”
“I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s quite mad.”
“The best lovers always are,” she agreed in a scandalous murmur. “Dear me, I do hope Billy’s not threatening his life—or his manhood.” Jacinda tapped her folded fan against her cheek as she searched the crowd for the two tall, handsome men, then let out an amused yet pitying sigh. “It’ll be bad enough when it comes time to meet my brothers. Poor Billy was lucky to survive the interview.”
“They’re not going to care. You’re their sister. It’s different.”
“Oh, Lizzie, won’t you ever learn? You never had to marry Alec to be part of our family. You always were and always will be.”
She turned to her, taken aback by her frank declaration, when suddenly they were interrupted by a pair of Jacinda’s shallow Society friends.
“Oh, Lady Truro!”
The two ostentatiously dressed and bejeweled young wives cro
wded Lizzie out to kiss the air beside Jacinda’s cheeks as they greeted her. “Darling, it’s so nice to see you!”
“What a gorgeous gown!”
“You are coming to our charity breakfast next week?”
“Of course, my dears. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Jacinda responded, adroitly deflecting their artificiality back onto them. She had to live in their world, after all, but she did not bother trying to introduce them to Lizzie, who had long since expressed her aversion to such creatures. The ladies failed to notice the deft irony in Jacinda’s smiling answers.
Lizzie, being no one of any consequence, was ignored, and was glad of it. She turned from the shower of vapid conversation and took a few steps away, glancing into the crowd in the direction Devlin had gone. She did not spot him, but upon turning around again, suddenly found herself face-to-face with Alec.
The lantern behind him threw a glimmering halo over his golden hair and broad shoulders, but it cast his comely face in shadow. Hands in pockets, he stared at her with a hapless smile and a great air of weariness. “Hullo, Bits.”
“Lord Alec.” She nodded to him, instantly going on her guard.
“You look wonderful.” His deep voice was as soft as a sigh.
She did not answer, but coming from such a leader of fashion, she supposed dryly that she ought to have swooned at the compliment. His admiring glance traveled over her. “It’s good to see you here tonight. Daresay you’re causing quite a stir,” he murmured with a faint smile of pride in her. “I wasn’t sure you were ever coming back into Society.”
“Well, time heals all, they say,” she remarked in a breezy tone.
He lowered his head, contrite as a choirboy. “I’m glad to hear it.” He paused. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, since that day I saw you with the children. I was hoping we could talk sometime soon.”
“I’m not sure there’s anything to say.”
“Alec, darling! There you are!”
Just then, Lady Campion suddenly flung herself into their midst, sliding her hands up Alec’s broad shoulder. Lizzie flinched at the intrusion.
“Where have you been, my pretty fellow? I will not be neglected,” she said with a playful pout. Ignoring Lizzie even more skillfully than Jacinda’s haughty Society friends had, Lady Campion tugged Alec down a few inches to whisper something in his ear.
God, how horrendously awkward. Lizzie folded her arms across her waist and looked away, but the glamorous image of the baroness was stamped upon her mind. Rich, beautiful, widowed, and thus, free as a bird, Lady Campion was a slim brunette with a sophisticated tousle of short, dark curls tamed by a silk bandeau. The thick ribbon’s long, jaunty ends trailed down one side to skim her alluring shoulder. She was clad in a lemon-striped open-robe with a white muslin underskirt; the skillful fluttering of her fan spoke volumes to every male in her presence.
Feeling slightly ill as she remembered anew how Alec had let this woman come between them, Lizzie looked away, trying to recall why she had even come. Where was Devlin? He had left her standing here like a fool. Jacinda was busy, too, now inundated by the growing knot of her hen-wit acquaintances.
Lizzie glanced again at Alec and saw he was still staring at her even as Lady Campion hung on him and half made love to him right there in the middle of the party. He was unresponsive to his wealthy mistress and her attempts to monopolize him, just gazing at Lizzie with a look of misery in his eyes and deep, deep regret.
As she watched the baroness’s sickening display for a second, she realized Lady Campion had sunk her claws into Alec and had no intention of letting him go free.
Not after all she had paid for him.
Just then, Billy, bless him, returned with two goblets of punch. “Well, now, where did that daft of mine run off to? Jas!”
“Good evening, Lord Truro,” Lady Campion purred, regarding Billy with a gleam in her eye as she slid her clasped fingers over the top of Alec’s muscular shoulder.
Billy sent the woman a frown of distaste and turned to look for his wife. “Nice of you to run off on Lizzie,” he muttered, and handed Jacinda her drink as she came hurrying over to them.
“I’m so sorry! It couldn’t be helped, dearest,” she said apologetically to Lizzie. “You see why I’m desperate for you to come to these things with me?” Jacinda sipped her punch, then furrowed her brow. “Where’s Lord Strathmore?”
Billy nodded toward the wine tent. “He said he’d be back in a moment.”
Lizzie followed his glance and spotted Devlin, who she now saw had been detained talking to a large disreputable-looking man with brown hair.
“Did you say Strathmore?” Alec asked in surprise, pulling his face free of Lady Campion’s light, possessive hold.
“Indeed. Your old school friend, I understand?” Lizzie challenged him politely.
“Rather,” Alec drawled.
“You don’t sound pleased.”
He shrugged. “It’s not a friendship I’ve chosen to renew.”
“Why ever not?” she asked a trifle indignantly.
“I don’t particularly care for the company he keeps since his return to England.”
“What do you mean?”
He started to answer, but at that moment, Lady Madison, their hostess of the evening, came bustling by, inquiring if everyone was enjoying themselves. She stopped to chat for only a moment before moving on to continue mingling among her guests. She had just left their group when Devlin rejoined them, bringing Lizzie a glass of champagne punch, which, she discovered the moment she sipped it, had gone warm.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I ran into someone I know and couldn’t escape.”
“I noticed.” She wondered if the brawny man he had been talking to was one of the undesirables Alec had been referring to. It had been a strange remark, for Alec rarely had anything bad to say about anyone. She would’ve liked to have known more, but she was still officially not speaking to Alec. Under the circumstances, she was only glad that it hadn’t been one of the high-society harlots like Lady Campion who had tried to divert Devlin’s attention.
He bent his head and whispered tenderly in her ear: “Are you all right? I came as soon as I saw.”
She pulled back a small space and glanced up into his eyes. His concerned expression as he searched her face assured her he had guessed who the woman was with Alec, and knew how difficult this moment was for Lizzie.
She had faltered for a moment there, but now that she had her ally by her side again, she succumbed to a reluctant half-smile. Slipping her hand through the crook of his elbow, she nodded and moved closer to his side, drawing strength from his solidity. I am now.
Alec was watching them intently. “Why, Devil Strathmore,” he drawled, “as I live and breathe.”
Devlin turned and greeted him with equally guarded savoir faire. “Why, if it isn’t Alexander the Great.”
“I’d heard you were back in Town. How are you?”
“Never better. Yourself?”
“Can’t complain.”
The two old friends shook hands, but their reunion was markedly cool, and Lizzie detected a certain suspicious reserve on both sides.
“I did not know that you two were acquainted,” Alec commented, glancing from Devlin to Lizzie.
“Oh, yes, we met in Bath some time ago, didn’t we?” he murmured to her, casting Lizzie a purposely besotted smile. “This sweet pearl brought cheer to the last months of my aunt’s life, and for that, I shall be eternally grateful to her.” Devlin lifted Lizzie’s hand and kissed it.
Lady Campion smirked.
Alec’s stare was like ice. After a moment’s startled pause, he abruptly remembered his manners. “Yes, I had heard about your aunt’s passing, old boy. My condolences.”
Dev gave him a gallant nod of thanks.
“Alec, darling, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Lady Campion stepped forward, fixing her speculative stare on Devlin. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Lizzie bristled.
“By all means, my lady.” With a smooth and rather crafty smile, Alec obliged the woman, more than glad, it seemed, to sic her on Dev for a while. “Allow me to present Devlin Kimball, Viscount Strathmore. Strathmore, this is Lady Campion.”
“Ma’am,” Devlin said, bowing to her with frosty restraint.
“I never stand on formalities with handsome gentlemen, Lord Strathmore. Please,” she purred, “call me Eva.” Extending her jeweled hand to Devlin, she waited for him to kiss it like a queen granting favors.
Devlin just looked at her; then he abruptly thrust his wineglass into her waiting hand. “Would you mind holding this while I dance with Miss Carlisle? Thank you so much. Let’s go, sweeting. You promised me a waltz.”
With a startled blink, Lizzie hurried after him as he grasped her hand and tugged her away from them with a relentless stride, leaving Alec’s haughty mistress holding the half-empty glass and wearing a look of outraged indignation.
Lizzie could barely stifle her hilarity. “I can’t believe you just did that!” She glanced back as Jacinda and Billy turned away from the furious woman, hiding their laughter.
“No one treats you like that when I’m around,” he growled. “I am sorry, Lizzie, but I am too vexed to dance. The nerve of that witch!” He turned to her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine!”
When their gazes met—his tempestuous, hers tickled—she was sure the world stopped turning for a moment, that the moon beamed brighter, and the stars danced.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He grumbled and looked away, a little abashed.
“Devlin?” She crooked her finger at him. When he leaned down nearer, she murmured in his ear: “I have a better idea than dancing.”
“You do?” His stormy scowl immediately vanished as he took in the flirtatious smile spreading over her face.