“How are you really finding having Deveril here?” Teddy proved he had not forsaken the subject of the marquis after all.
Apart from the fact the man had pinned her up against a door, twice and kissed her once? Although, to be fair, she had kissed him back. Much to her self-disgust.
“Is it as awful as you thought it might be?” her brother persisted.
“Not as such, no,” Alys allowed cautiously in view of their previous conversation.
Teddy gave her hand a squeeze. “There, told you it wouldn’t be so bad having him here.”
Alys wouldn’t go quite that far. She was too aware of Deveril to be in the least comfortable in his company. And not only because she still believed him responsible for killing their father.
There was a constant frisson between the two of them now, of a sexual nature which Alys did not remember being present three years ago.
Possibly because she had only been seventeen and attending her first Season, and had no idea what the hardening of her nipples and the slick heat between her thighs actually indicated. Nor had Deveril ever been close enough to her then for her to become aware of the hardness between his thighs.
“I was always under the impression Deveril had an interest in you when he used to come here to visit Father,” Teddy added lightly.
Her brows rose. “What on earth do you mean?”
Her brother gave the subject some thought before answering. “His friendship with Father seemed to happen very suddenly, and I always thought Deveril showed you marked attention during the numerous weekends he spent here.”
Alys was completely nonplussed by the turn this conversation had taken. “As you said, he was a friend of Father’s,” she dismissed. “You imagined it if you thought the marquis ever showed any partiality toward me.”
Her brother eyed her speculatively. “You are almost one and twenty, Alys, and a beautiful woman rather than a child. Surely you must know how to go about enticing a man’s interest in you?”
She gave up any presence of finishing her breakfast. “Surely you are not suggesting I entice the marquis.”
“He would be a fine catch,” her brother mused.
“For me or for you? I apologize,” she said quickly as Teddy’s face darkened with anger at the accusation in her tone. “But is money really in such short supply you would think of marrying me off to someone so unsuitable merely because he is wealthy?”
“Why else does anyone marry?”
“Love?”
Teddy snorted. “Father spoiled you thoroughly if you really believe that.”
“Perhaps,” she allowed. “But Mama and Papa’s marriage was a love match.”
His mouth thinned. “Which is why our mother brought very little in the way of a dowry into the marriage.”
Alys bit back her defensive reply. “If you are so desperate for money, why do you not marry yourself?”
“I am not desperate,” Teddy snapped. “Besides I am far too young to think of marriage yet. Whereas you…” He left the sentence unfinished.
Nonetheless, Alys felt the deliberate stab of the barb. She had not quite reached the age of being on the shelf as yet, but she would be considered such in another year or so. Each Season, there were more new and beautiful debutantes aged seventeen and eighteen, so why would any gentleman wish to marry a woman who was almost four years older than that. Especially as it was obvious no other man had ever made an offer for her.
“It cannot have escaped your notice the marquis has reached that age of five and thirty without so far allowing any woman to catch him?” Alys spoke evenly. “Nor could I possibly allow myself to become involved with the man I believe responsible for—”
“Do not say those words again, Alys,” Teddy warned, his patience obviously wearing thin. “He was investigated and you must accept no reason for Deveril being guilty was ever found.”
Alys did not have to accept anything of the kind. Not when she had actually seen that man with the pistol in his hand and her father lying dead at his feet.
Nor did she have any intention of encouraging the marquis. His behavior so far showed he did not need any encouragement in order to attempt to take liberties.
And Teddy was also talking nonsense in regard to Deveril having been interested in her in the past. The marquis had not so much as attempted to kiss her three years ago. Much to her disappointment. Alys really had been deeply infatuated with him at the time.
“Alys…?”
She turned to find her brother eyeing her curiously. “My thoughts were on luncheon,” she dismissed brightly.
“If you say so,” Teddy drawled skeptically as he threw his napkin onto the table and rose to his feet. “I shall be outside talking to McHugh if you should— What is it?”
Alys turned to see Deveril’s valet standing in the doorway waiting to be noticed. Riley was a slender man of the marquis’s own age and seemed pleasant enough, considering who his employer was. Alys sincerely hoped he had not overheard any of the conversation between herself and her brother.
“The marquis asks to be excused from the shoot this morning, Sir Edward.” There was an attractive Irish burr to the valet’s voice. “He is indisposed.”
Alys instantly wondered if Deveril had been plagued by her father’s ghost during the night after all.
Teddy frowned his irritation. “Does he require a doctor be called?”
Alys perfectly understood her brother’s displeasure. A doctor would need paying, and as Teddy was the host, he would be the one to do the paying. His largesse in inviting so many friends to stay for the week was not indicative of the fact money had not been particularly abundant in the Newcomb family since the death of their father. Teddy did not possess the same business acumen as the older man, and he also tended to spend more each month than their budget allowed.
“I do not believe so, thank you,” Riley refused politely. “I have every confidence the marquis will feel well enough to join you for dinner this evening.”
The valet’s certainty of that seemed rather presumptuous to Alys. Unless the marquis was not ill at all but merely avoiding the company of his fellow guests. If that was the case, Alys again questioned why Deveril had come here at all.
Unlike Teddy, she certainly did not think it had anything to do with her.
“He did ask if Miss Newcomb would visit him later this morning if she has the time.” Riley looked at her questioningly.
“In his bedchamber?” Alys was too surprised at the request to hide the emotion.
The valet nodded. “If you please.”
No, she did not please. How dare Deveril—
“You really must ensure our guest is being cared for, Alys,” Teddy mused at her obviously shocked expression. “I am sure Deveril would appreciate it.”
Alys’s mouth tightened. “Do not be ridiculous,” she snapped, self-conscious that her brother should talk to her in this way in front of the marquis’s valet.
“Have a care, Alys. Father may have indulged you to speak freely but I do not hold with the same practice in regard to a woman,” Teddy warned softly, apparently feeling free to take umbrage at her using that tone to him in the presence of a third party.
As Deveril had taken offense twice already, and for the same reason. She really must cease behaving so shrewishly when she depended on her brother’s good will to keep so much as a roof over her head and be fed. But not enough to ever willingly encourage the attentions of the Marquis of Deveril. She would rather starve in the streets first.
She forced a smile as she turned to the valet. “Please relay my good wishes for a speedy recovery to the marquis,” she said smoothly. “Inform him I will be happy to check on his health as soon as my other duties about the house allow me the free time to do so.”
“Better,” Teddy bit out tersely before thankfully striding off in search of his estate manager.
Alys doubted he would think so if he knew she had no intention of finding the free time to visit the marquis at any time today.
Devil watched out the window as the party of men gathered outside in preparation for setting off on the shoot. He dare not chance leaving his bedchamber to go down the hallway to Alys’s rooms until the house had emptied of the other guests.
There were far too many of Newcomb’s friends staying in the house for the privacy and time Devil needed to search Alys’s private parlor and bedchamber without fear of being disturbed. Making his excuses in regard to joining the shoot this morning had seemed the only way he could guarantee there would be no one in the house for several hours but himself, Alys, and a handful of servants.
Knowing how much she seemed to like to thwart him, Devil had absolutely no doubt Alys would ensure she did everything else to fill her time this morning but visit him in his sickbed, and so allowing Devil to go and search her rooms undetected.
If Alys was the spy they were looking for, then surely there would be some evidence of it in one of her rooms. Letters, perhaps. Or even a map or two. Devil was looking for anything that might prove or disprove her involvement in another possible escape for Napoleon before he could be incarcerated a second time. It was Devil’s hope he’d be able to disprove it.
The small desk in her sitting room revealed only some private letters from friends and two unpaid bills, the latter not for vast amounts, but a pound or two to a seamstress and pennies to a haberdashery.
There was no doubting Alys’s situation had changed greatly since Devil was last here. Then, she had been the pampered and beloved daughter of Sir Peter Newcomb, with so many gowns Devil had never seen her wearing the same one twice during all his visits here.
As the spinster sister of Sir Teddy Newcomb, Alys was no longer indulged but instead forced to act as hostess to her brother’s motley collection of friends, who were as much wastrels as Teddy was, and Devil, the man she believed had killed her father.
Alys’s private parlor and bedchamber reflected that change in circumstances. The rooms were shabby to say the least, the furnishings faded, unlike the bedchamber Devil currently occupied, which had rich mahogany furniture and velvet curtains at the windows and about the four-poster bed. Teddy Newcomb’s bedchamber, if he was not mistaken.
There were fewer than a dozen gowns hanging in Alys’s wardrobe, a mixture of day and evening wear. They had obviously been altered and restyled several times to fit in with the year’s fashion. Which was no doubt the reason for the seamstress’s bill. Alys’s breasts were much fuller now, so much so Devil seriously doubted any of her previous abundance of gowns could have been altered enough for her to continue wearing them.
Shoes were lined up neatly on the floor beneath but appeared far from new. The drawer containing her undergarments was also less than full, and some of her chemises looked as if they would no longer fit comfortably across those ample breasts either.
Damn it, if Alys were his, Devil would—
Alys was not his, he reminded himself firmly. Nor would she ever be. The most he could ever hope for was he might one day be able to persuade her into believing him when he said he was not guilty of murdering her father.
Devil firmly reminded himself he was here to search for anything that might prove Alys’s innocence of treason, not to take note of how her life had changed since her father died, and not for the better.
But there was one positive note to her change of circumstances. If she was a paid spy working for Napoleon, then she would surely have had the wherewithal to buy herself as many new gowns and other fashionable fripperies as she wished.
Or she may not want to draw attention to herself by doing so. Her brother would know how much allowance he gave her, and for her to suddenly—
“What are you doing in my bedchamber?”
Devil closed his eyes briefly before turning slowly to face an obviously deeply shocked Alys.
Alys could not believe Deveril was in her bedchamber. It was—well, it was—
“What do you think I am doing here?”
Alys’s shocked mind drew a complete blank. “I have absolutely no idea.”
“No?” He quirked a dark brow as he walked slowly toward her.
A predator. Stalking her. Once again causing her to step away. Not toward the door, where one of the maids might see her backing out of her own bedchamber, but toward the door opening into her dressing room.
Deveril’s strides lengthened, blocking Alys from reaching that door. He stepped closer to prevent her escape, using his superior height and muscular build to pin her in the corner of the room.
Her chin rose. “What were you doing poking about in my wardrobe?”
“The gown you wore last night smells of you.”
Her gown smelled— “I shall see it is laundered later today.”
Deveril chuckled. “I did not mean it smelled unpleasantly. There is a trace of your perfume on the material.”
“I do not wear— Oh.” Color burned Alys’s cheeks as she realized he had to be referring to the aroma of her arousal.
Could he really detect that on the gown she had worn last night? How embarrassing if that was the case.
“I am burning up with desire for you.” Devil said the words to distract her, but he instantly realized he spoke the truth. It seemed to be a constant state of affairs whenever he was near Alys.
She raised a hand and placed it against his brow. “You are burning up because you are unwell.” Her hand dropped to her side. “Indeed, I believe you may be delirious if you have resorted to sniffing at my gowns.”
“How unromantic you are.” Although Devil accepted his excuse, that he had been in her wardrobe because he wished to breathe in the perfume of her gown, did smack of lunacy. Unfortunately, it was the best explanation he could come up with at the time. His work as a spy for the English Crown had not previously involved investigating a lady. Especially a lady he desired as much as he did Alys. “Now that you are here in person, there is no need for me to sniff at anything but you.” He gathered her into his arms and claimed her mouth with his own.
She tasted so delicious, a combination of honey—which she had no doubt had with her breakfast—and the even sweeter nectar that was Alys alone.
Devil could gorge himself on that taste for hours without end.
He caressed the length of her slender back as his mouth continued to devour hers, hands cupping the twin globes of her bottom as he pulled her in closer still. He groaned as he felt the heat of her mound against his erect cock.
Her neck arched as he broke the kiss to trail kisses along her jaw and down the length of her throat to the tops of her breasts. She gasped, hands clinging to his shoulders as he sucked some of that plump flesh into his mouth.
“I want to touch and taste more of you.” Devil’s fingers worked on unfastening the buttons at the back of her gown as he continued to lick and suck on her exposed flesh. By the time he had undone four of the buttons, her gown was loose enough for him to pull the material down and reveal her pretty breasts tipped with engorged nipples the color of ripe strawberries. Devil parted his lips and sucked one fully into his mouth while his fingers plucked and played with its twin.
Alys trembled in his arms. “Dear God…”
Devil sucked harder, his tongue a rough rasp against that sensitive nubbin as his other hand caressed down the slender line of her waist and slightly fuller hips, before cupping the heat of her mound. “I want to taste you there too,” he murmured against the dampness of her skin. “To part your swollen folds and thrust my tongue inside your pussy and allow the flow of your juices to slide down my throat.”
She trembled all the harder. “You cannot— I cannot. If someone should find you in here—”
“Someone has found him here,” Newcomb spoke coldly from across the room. “He also requires an explanation as to what the two of you are doing alone together in your bedchamber as soon as my back is turned.”
Alys felt the color leech from her cheeks as she turned her head and saw her brother standing in the now-open doorway of her bedchamb
er. He was not alone. Their butler, Holmes, was with him. “Teddy—”
“You will be quiet, Alys,” her brother instructed icily. “And I suggest you straighten your clothing, as neither Holmes nor I have any wish to look at your bare tits!”
Alys’s hands shook as she pulled up the material of her gown to cover her breasts. “Teddy—”
“Holmes, go and tell my guests to proceed with the shoot without me.” Her brother ignored her entreaty, waiting until the butler had departed before speaking again. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he demanded of Deveril.
Devil had silently watched and listened to the exchange between brother and sister, alert to the fact that he had been discovered in Alys’s bedchamber by not only Newcomb but also the convenient witness of the family butler.
Teddy Newcomb looked at him with eyes as blue as his sister’s, but the other man’s eyes were hard and calculating where hers were not. Leaving Devil in no doubt the younger man was thinking of exactly what he might be able to extract from him for having been caught making love to his unmarried sister in her bedchamber.
It had been very neatly done, Devil acknowledged with grudging admiration. Far too neatly for it to be a coincidence there was also a witness to Alys’s supposed debauchery.
The Deveril estate was a wealthy one, and it would not be the first time a lady, or a member of her family, had tried to trick Devil either into marriage or to issue a demand of a hefty payment if he wished to avoid a scandal. In the past, Devil had always dealt with such matters by refusing to do either and telling them to go ahead and broadcast their false accusations and be damned. Devil knew they all had more to lose in Society by doing so than he did.
This time, it was different. This time, he was not averse to the lady involved. The opposite, in fact.
“What do I have to say for myself?” Devil made a decision in that moment that would change the course of his life forever. “Why, that it is my intention to marry your sister, of course.”
Chapter 4
“What?” Alys was apparently too shocked by his declaration to offer any objection when Devil turned her slightly so he could refasten the buttons on the back of her gown.
Wicked Scandal (Regency Sinners 3) Page 3