Regency Wagers

by Diane Gaston

  Devlin tried to keep his voice steady. ‘What causes you to think the child mine?’

  Ned gave him a look of exasperation. ‘She looks like you.’

  ‘She looks like Maddy.’ A vision of Linette flashed through Devlin’s mind. Her curly dark hair always falling from its ribbon. The clear blue innocence of her eyes. The pouty mouth when she did not get her way. So much like Madeleine. From his first glimpse of the child, his heart had reached out to the little girl. She was Madeleine as a child.

  ‘She is the image of you at that age,’ Ned countered. ‘If you do not believe me, come to Heronvale and check the family portrait in the music room. She is even named for you. She was obviously conceived during your leave from Spain. The timing is correct. How you supported them in your absence is a mystery, but there is no mystery about the fact that she is your child.’

  ‘My child.’ Stunned, Devlin made his own calculation. His one brief encounter with Madaleine. The child’s age. He’d never considered.

  Madeleine stared down at her lap, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her hands. The Marquess’s words echoed as if emerging from a distant cave. Saying he wanted to take Linette. Saying Linette was Devlin’s child.

  She stood and spoke with cold rage. ‘My child.’

  These men were no different than Farley and the ones he had sent to her bed. They all wielded power over her. The power to control her life, to violate her body…and to steal from her all that was dear. This rich Marquess controlled with his title and money. What chance had she against such weapons? Even Devlin, for all his pretty words, held her life and her daughter’s in his hands. He could crush them both in an eye blink. He could cast them into the street. Abandon them to his brother.

  Send them back to Farley.

  Madeleine’s body trembled. Panic mixed with rage. Three sets of eyes stared at her. The Marquess’s with a look of impatience. His wife’s with tears rolling down her cheeks. And Devlin’s with confusion and surprise.

  Madeleine held herself erect, lifting her chin high. These people would not see she feared their power. Indeed, she would not fear it. She would defy it. No one would take Linette from her. No one.

  She let a faint smile cross her face and spoke again, her voice mild. ‘Linette is my child.’

  And, as they stood poised to hear more, she bolted. She ran out the mahogany parlour door, down the white marble stairs and through the hall, glittering with gilt. She heard Devlin shout her name. Heard the Marchioness wail, and the Marquess call for someone to stop her.

  No one did. She flung open the front door and ran out into the street. She cared not that she held her skirts high away from her ankles, nor that the silk slippers scuffed roughly against the pavement. She would get to Linette first. She would grab Linette and Sophie and run.

  She had only a vague notion of which direction to take, but trusted that her need to protect Linette would lead her home. Shouts sounded from behind her. She dared not look back. She’d always been fleet-footed. None of the lads she’d grown up around could best her in a race and no one would best her now.

  ‘Maddy!’ It was Devlin’s voice.

  She ran faster, past the elegant houses and neatly swept streets, ghostly in the lamplight. Ahead was a jumble of carriages, polished and shining, clogging the street. Elegantly liveried footmen milled about. Candlelight blazed from a house and, as she neared it, Madeleine heard sounds of music and revelry coming from the windows. She also heard Devlin’s shoes pounding behind her. Coachmen and postilions glanced curiously in her direction. There was nothing to do but head straight for them. She plunged into the crowd.

  Devlin’s lungs strained and his legs ached as he pushed himself into greater speed. His months of recovery had robbed him of more strength than he had known. Madeleine was in sight. He gained on her slightly when she disappeared into the throng of vehicles and men lounging in front of the elegant town house. A satisfactory crush by the looks of it, but he had been out of society so long he could not even remember whose house it was. He only knew Madeleine would draw attention to herself in her flight. He must catch her before danger befell her. What could she be thinking of running into the night alone and unprotected?

  He slowed, trying to get a glimpse of her in the confusion.

  ‘Lord Devlin?’ A man panted as he came up behind him.

  Devlin greeted him with relief. ‘Jem. Help me find her.’

  Bless Jem. He asked no questions, but immediately ran to search from the edge of the line of carriages. Devlin headed through the jam where he’d seen Madeleine disappear. The commotion ahead of him told him he was close.

  ‘Hey, missy, what is your hurry?’ Men’s voices laughed. ‘Stop now, missy.’

  Would she appear to be a lady to them? The coachmen and postilions would be whiling away the hours of waiting with a bit of drink. Boredom and drink were dangerous companions. He glimpsed her, seeing only a bit of her gold silk before men closed behind her, calling after her. Were they grabbing at her? Please no. They would not molest her here in Mayfair. St James’s Street was the danger. Not Mayfair.

  She turned, giving Devlin an anguished look. Jem had circled behind her. He caught her in flight.

  ‘It’s all right, Maddy. Jem is a friend,’ Devlin said to her, as she struggled to get free. ‘You are safe with us.’

  ‘Let me go,’ she cried. ‘Let me go.’

  Jem did let her go, but not until Devlin had her firmly in hand, one arm encircling her waist.

  Devlin saw one of the footmen look curiously in their direction. He thought it prudent to avoid further trouble. ‘Come, let us get away.’

  Jem led them to the entrance of an alleyway. Madeleine thrashed and kicked as Devlin half-dragged her into the alley. ‘I want to go.’

  Devlin kept his arm tight around her waist. ‘Jem, can you send the carriage? I assume you made it ready for us.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ He ran off.

  Madeleine squirmed and struggled in Devlin’s arms. ‘Let me go,’ she cried feebly. ‘Let me go.’

  He leaned her against the cold stone wall and secured her with his body, his arms embracing her. Her struggles quieted, but she trembled against him, her breath ragged.

  ‘You are safe now, Maddy,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I will not hurt you.’

  ‘You will let him take Linette,’ she cried.

  ‘No, I will not,’ he spoke soothingly in her ear.

  ‘He will make you do it,’ she insisted. ‘Just as he makes you get married.’

  The truth in that statement stung. Ned held the power over his fortune, and he needed that fortune to safeguard Madeleine and Linette. Devlin had no means to combat him.

  A few weeks ago Devlin would have bet his entire fortune that his brother would never to do anything so dastardly. Now Ned was like a stranger, capable of anything.

  Trying to sound confident, he assured her, ‘Ned will not take Linette from you, I promise.’

  ‘I am sick to death of gentlemen’s promises.’ She spat out the words. ‘Promises mean nothing.’

  ‘Mine do,’ Devlin insisted, offended and hurt that she would think him like other men, after all they had been through.

  She met his eyes, her own a challenge. ‘Do they?’

  What was the use? She would not believe him. He cursed Farley and every man who had failed her. He cursed himself. It had not occurred to him to take her away from that life when he first met her. Had he done so, she’d have been spared years of suffering, of rearing her child in such a scandalous place.

  Her child. His child, perhaps? Had he left his own flesh and blood to Farley’s evil whims? Perhaps Ned’s ill opinion of him was well deserved.

  Her struggles ceased, but though his body was pressed against hers, he felt her distance.

  The carriage pulled up with Jem on the box beside the driver. Devlin walked her to it.

  She looked up. ‘I will not ride in his carriage.’

  ‘Do not be foolish, Maddy.
Let us get out of here.’ Curious bystanders started to gather, doubtless trying to see the crest on the side of the vehicle.

  ‘No.’ She tried to pull away.

  ‘Enough of this,’ Devlin said, more to himself than to Madeleine. He picked her up and tossed her into the carriage, jumping in behind. ‘Go!’ he shouted to Jem.

  The carriage lurched, and Devlin fell against her. She pushed him away. Crossing her arms over her chest, she huddled against the side of the carriage, as far away from him as possible. A tear trickled down her cheek.

  Feeling miserable, Devlin rubbed the back of his neck. Her dress was wrinkled and dirty, her shoes near tatters, her hair half-tumbled from its pins.

  She glanced at him briefly before turning back to the curtain.

  ‘Maddy?’

  She did not respond.

  Devlin took a breath. ‘Linette…is she…is she my child?’

  Madeleine shut her eyes and focused on the rhythmic sounds of the horses’ hooves against the cobbles. She had intended for this moment never to come.

  She turned to him. ‘I do not know.’

  There was little light in the carriage, and she could only dimly see his face. She could not read his expression.

  She continued, ‘She could be your child.’

  He made a sound, an aching one. ‘How? From that first night, I suppose, but how could you know?’

  He meant how could a woman who had been with countless men say that one of them fathered a child? She winced.

  ‘I do not pretend to know.’ She had promised herself never to believe Devlin fathered her child. She’d always told herself naming her Linette was in memory of a man who had been kind to her, nothing more. But sometimes, when she gazed upon her daughter, she believed otherwise.

  ‘It is possible, nothing more.’ She felt her throat tighten. The memory of that night, both with him and afterward, was etched in her mind.

  ‘I was a foolish girl. You undoubtedly will think me so.’ She attempted a light tone to her voice. ‘When you left that night, I did not do as I was supposed to do. I did not wash myself. I fancied it would keep you with me a little longer.’

  She heard his breath quicken.

  ‘And when Farley came to me, I refused him.’ She winced at this part. ‘I had never refused him before, and he beat me soundly, but he did not bed me. The next day, he left. He was gone a long time, more than a month.’

  Those rare times when Farley left had been the best her life had to offer in those days. She was guarded against running away, but none of his lackeys dared touch her and the gaming hell ran without her as the prize.

  ‘Maddy.’

  He reached for her, but she twisted away. ‘By the time Farley returned, I knew I was with child. I hid the fact from him as long as possible. He wanted to get rid of the baby, but I threatened to kill myself if he did.’

  ‘Maddy, I’m sorry.’ Devlin reached out to her, but she pushed his hand away.

  ‘Linette has been reward enough. I ask for nothing more.’

  ‘I should have been there to help you.’ He sounded anguished.

  How like a man to be sorry for what he had not done, though he probably gave not a thought to it until this moment. Did Devlin think his regret made any difference to her? He had not believed Linette to be his child and looked for excuses not to believe so now. His words were empty.

  ‘I will not let the Marquess take Linette,’ she said. ‘Sophie and I will take her away this night. You need not trouble yourself further with us.’

  ‘You will not leave, do you understand?’ He spoke sharply. ‘It is not safe for you.’

  ‘You cannot make me stay.’ She twisted toward him. ‘Unless you plan to hold me prisoner like Farley did. Under guard every moment.’

  ‘He kept you under guard?’

  ‘At first. After Linette was born, he guarded her.’

  ‘Damn.’ The word barely reached her ears.

  They rode in silence, the creaks of the carriage and the sounds of the horses’ hooves filling their ears until the carriage came to a stop. Jem hopped down from the box and opened the carriage door. Devlin lifted Madeleine out.

  ‘Wait for me, Jem,’ Devlin said.

  ‘You are going back?’ Madeleine said, fear creeping back.

  ‘I need to speak to my brother.’

  They would plot the stealing of her child. Devlin would give Linette to the high-minded Marquess and flawless Marchioness.

  ‘Do you keep me here? Do you alert Bart to guard the door?’

  He attempted to take her by the elbow, but she pushed him away and ran hurriedly to the door. He caught up with her there, pulling the key from his pocket. He gripped her arm with his other hand as they entered the house. The hallway was lit with two candles, the rest of the house, quiet.

  Devlin took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. ‘Nothing is changed, Maddy. I promised you that I would take care of you and Linette, and I will fulfil that promise. I will not take Linette from you, nor let my brother do so. I promise you on my honour.’

  She glared at him and tried to back out of his grasp. ‘More talk of promises.’

  He kept his grip on her shoulders and kept in step with her. ‘You must stay here, Maddy.’

  ‘You do not command me, my lord.’ She backed into the wall.

  He moved towards her still. ‘I must command you in this. There are dangers out there for you and Sophie and Linette. Men like Farley and far worse. You would not be safe if you left, and I would not be able to protect you.’

  ‘I am not safe here.’ He was too close now, his hands on the wall and his legs spread apart like a cage entrapping her. ‘You would give my child away.’

  He gave an exasperated bark. ‘Damn it, Maddy. I will not.’

  She stared at him as he loomed over her. His features blurred in the dim light. More vivid was the scent of him, the warmth of him.

  He rubbed his cheek, rough with stubble, against hers and brought his lips near her ear. ‘You may not believe my promises, but I will believe yours. Promise me you will not run away. You will stay here until I have the means to set you up in your own house, wherever you wish.’

  Her breath quickened, swelling her chest so that it touched his with each breath. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe he was the soldier returned from the war to rescue her, to whisk her and her daughter to a pretty little cottage where they would live happily forever.

  His lips touched the sensitive skin of her ear. ‘Promise.’

  She squirmed under the sensations his lips created, making her press against his pelvis. She forced herself to place her back flat against the wall.

  She also forced herself to think realistically. It was more likely he would barter her child to his brother. Linette would be wrenched from her arms and sent to live in the Marquess’s house, and Devlin would be free to pursue whatever pleasure he wished. Linette would have sugared treats and pretty clothes and a pony of her own. There would always be a fire warming her room and food filling her belly. She would learn to call the kind-hearted Marchioness ‘Mama’ and the Marquess, who had looked upon her with such tenderness, ‘Papa’.

  A sob escaped her lips. Devlin gathered her into his arms and she soaked his jacket with her tears.

  ‘Promise you will not run away,’ he murmured. ‘Let me keep you safe.’ He lifted her chin and placed his lips on hers.

  For a moment she melted into him and allowed him to pet her and taste the tender interior of her mouth. For a moment she believed him. Catching herself, she struggled in his arms, wrenching her face away from him. He released her, pain written on his face.

  She ran up the stairs without a backward glance.

  Devlin returned more than two hours later. The candles in the hallway were burned to nubs. He pinched them out before ascending the stairs. His heart pounded in his chest.

  Had she stayed?

  When he had arrived back in Grosvenor Square, his brother and Serena sti
ll sat in the parlour. Serena’s eyes were red with crying. She twisted a damp handkerchief with her fingers. His brother poured from an almost-empty decanter of brandy.

  Serena had gasped when he reappeared.

  ‘She is safe at home,’ he announced.

  He then endured his brother’s lecture, watching the clock on the mantel pass midnight, wondering all the while if Madeleine waited for him, or if she had run. He declared to Ned that he, not the Marquess, would care for Madeleine and the child, had explained that their care was his whole motivation for marrying. He accepted Serena’s shocked protests regarding such a marriage plan and allowed his brother to exact from him a promise to disengage from Madeleine and her child after his marriage. Ned rang another peal over his head about the destructiveness of debauchery and the necessity of relieving Madeleine of the disreputable status of mistress. Devlin had resisted the temptation to tell Ned the promise was unnecessary. Ned renewed his offer to adopt the child. Serena even proposed the unlikely option for Madeleine to become the governess.

  Before Devlin bid Ned and Serena goodnight, Ned had discussed with him the financial obligations of engaging in courtship. They had come to agreeable terms.

  Now, as Devlin mounted the stairs to where his two charges should be sleeping, his pockets were weighted with gold coin and a promise had been extracted from him to accompany Serena to Almack’s the coming evening. All of which seemed of no consequence at all.

  Devlin paused upon the top step, trying to sense if he would find Linette’s little bed unoccupied, drawers void of contents, trunks bare.

  Madeleine gone.

  He knocked gently on Madeleine’s door and opened it. The lamplight from the street provided dim illumination to the room. The light rested on Linette’s bed.

  The little girl slept peacefully. Her long lashes brushed the tops of her chubby cheeks and her little pink lips moved around the thumb tucked securely in her mouth.

  He leaned over to watch her. My child? he asked himself.