Wicked Scandal (Regency Sinners 3)

by Carole Mortimer

  He breathed deeply through his nose. “It does not matter what I think, it is what you think and feel that is important.”

  She met his gaze unflinchingly. “Why?”

  “Why?” he repeated impatiently. “Because you are to be my wife.”

  She gave a shake of her head. “I do not see what that has to do with anything that has happened this evening. My brother only stated the truth.”

  Devil’s eyes widened. “You still believe I murdered your father?”

  “I have no idea why or at whose hand my father died,” she stated flatly. “I was referring to Teddy’s previous comment.”

  That she was nothing but a whore who would spread her legs for any man who so much as looked at her.

  “You know that is untrue,” Devil snapped.

  “Is it?” she said dully. “I seem to recall that, on your instruction, I eagerly spread my legs for you earlier today.”

  Devil reached out to grasp the tops of her arms and shook her slightly. “I will not allow you speak about yourself in that way. We are to be married. It is perfectly acceptable for the two of us to…indulge ourselves a little before the ceremony.”

  Alys gave a choked laugh. A show of humor belied by the tears glistening in her eyes. “I really do have a headache and ask to be excused.”

  Devil looked at her searchingly for several seconds, long enough to realize she was holding on to her emotions by a thread. He nodded abruptly before releasing her. “I will be glad when we are far away from here,” he muttered.

  Alys had no idea how she felt about anything anymore…

  The fact her brother had deliberately and cruelly humiliated her this evening.

  Marrying Deveril tomorrow.

  Leaving Newcomb Manor forever immediately after the wedding.

  She felt numb, from having suffered too much emotion these past few days. Something inside her had shut down, unwilling to take or listen to anything further just now.

  “Good night, Deveril.” Her eyes were downcast as she turned and resumed climbing the stairs to her bedchamber.

  Devil remained unmoving, knowing it was telling that Alys had called him Deveril and not Sebastian, as she had done today.

  Damn and blast Newcomb for the bastard he was and always would be.

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  It was no surprise to him that Maxim had followed him from the dining room. He doubted his friend felt any more inclined than he did to linger after dinner to drink brandy with Newcomb and his equally disreputable friends. If Devil had his way, the whole lot of them would be thrown out, and his host would receive a sound beating.

  But this was not Devil’s home, and so he must suffer the other men’s company for at least another sixteen hours or more. After that, he meant it when he said he never wanted to set eyes on Newcomb again.

  Devil turned to join Maxim at the bottom of the wide staircase. “Alys is as well as can be expected in the circumstances.” His mouth twisted. “I should thank you. If you had not been here to verbally restrain me, I would cheerfully have choked Newcomb for his insult to Alys.”

  Maxim shrugged. “That is what he wanted.”

  “Ungrateful bastard.” Devil acknowledged the fact Newcomb now had his money and felt no further need to be in the least polite to either Alys or Devil. “Alys is none of the things he accused her of being—”

  “I am well aware of that.” The earl sounded testy that Devil should even think he might doubt Alys’s virtue. “Your betrothed is not only beautiful but a woman of fortitude. I heartily approve of her as your choice of wife. Alys is a lady to her very bones.” He straightened. “Now could we get out of this drafty hallway and find ourselves a decent brandy rather than that swill we were forced to drink earlier today?”

  It took some doing, but Devil finally managed to persuade the reluctant butler into bringing them up a bottle of Peter Newcomb’s personal brandy from the cellar.

  After which the two gentlemen retired to the library and spent the next few hours drinking the whole bottle between them. Devil knew Maxim was only keeping him company, and his own consumption of the alcohol was so that he did not give in to the pull he felt to go to Alys’s bedchamber and comfort her further.

  The bleakness in her eyes before she left him had indicated she would find no comfort in his or anyone else’s arms tonight.

  Today was her wedding day.

  Alys still lay abed, despite the fact it was almost ten o’clock in the morning. She had been awake for hours but was reluctant to rise from her bed and for the day to begin. To her surprise, she had heard Teddy and his friends leave for their usual morning shoot an hour or so ago. No doubt Teddy saw no reason why should he have his pleasure curtailed simply because it was his only sister’s wedding day.

  After last night, Alys doubted Deveril and Carlton had accompanied the other men, but that was all the more reason for her to remain in her bedchamber this morning. It was bad luck for her and Deveril to see each other before the wedding.

  Despite the brightness of the sun shining in through the windows of her bedchamber, this wedding was not the happy and joyous occasion Alys had always envisaged it as being.

  Her father was not here to give her away.

  Her bridegroom would not gaze at her with love and pride as she walked down the aisle ready and eager to become his wife.

  Instead, Teddy would be the one to give her away, something he had made it clear he could not wait to do. But not before he had insulted both her and her future husband.

  And Deveril might desire her, but he did not love her.

  As to her own feelings for Deveril…

  She had been in love with him three years ago, and despite all that had happened since, she was very much afraid she loved him still.

  Afraid, because their marriage would be based on contempt on Deveril’s part, for having paid her brother twenty thousand pounds to protect her virtue. And distrust on Alys’s, because she still had no idea whether or not Deveril was guilty of having shot and killed her father.

  The only one who gained in this arrangement was her brother, and he deserved it least of all.

  “Which dress will you be wearing to the wedding this afternoon?”

  Alys glanced across at her maid, Meg having brought a breakfast tray to her a short time ago. A tray that remained untouched on the bedside table. The young girl was now looking through the limited amount of gowns in Alys’s wardrobe. Yesterday, Alys had picked out a demure cream silk day dress and matching bonnet to wear for her wedding today. But that gown no longer held the appeal it had then.

  “The red silk,” she decided as she threw back the covers and rose from the bed.

  Meg looked taken aback by the choice. “You intend to wear red for your wedding?”

  “Why not?” Alys dismissed airily.

  The red silk gown had originally belonged to her mother, a voluminous, tight-waisted gown which Alys had sent to the seamstress some months ago to be altered to today’s fashion. It still fitted at the waist, but all the red lace had been removed from the bodice and several of the underskirts too.

  She gave a snort. “Everyone believes I have seduced Deveril into marriage, so I might as well dress the part.”

  Meg gasped. “No one believes any such thing.” She gave a shake of her head. “Besides, my grandmother always said marrying in a red gown means you wish yourself dead.”

  Alys did not wish for quite that, but she might have hoped she did not feel so miserable on her wedding day either.

  “You must be so excited to be marrying the marquis,” Meg continued excitedly. “We all remember him from his visits here three years ago— Oh I am sorry, Miss Alys.” She gave a wince. “I did not mean to remind you of that unhappy time.”

  “You cannot remind me of something which is always with me.” Even as she said the words, Alys knew they were not completely true. She did not think of her father or how he died when Deveril was making love to her. Which was
utterly traitorous of her.

  Her maid nodded. “We all miss Sir Peter too. We also remember his friendship with the marquis, and his lordship’s visits here. How the marquis always paid you such marked attention.”

  A frown furrowed Alys’s brow as Meg repeated Teddy’s words from a few days ago. Alys had certainly never noticed Deveril paying her “marked attention” three years ago. And even if he had, Teddy’s recent blackmail of the marquis had assured there would be no return of those possibly tender feelings.

  “I shall wear the red silk,” Alys repeated firmly.

  “Very well, Miss Alys.” Meg bobbed a curtsey. “I shall take the gown downstairs with me for a quick iron and have your bathwater brought up.”

  Alys had barely settled herself in the steaming hot water of her bath when she heard the shouts from outside the house, followed by the banging of several doors downstairs.

  What on earth…?

  The door to her bedchamber flew open, and a flushed and agitated Meg rushed into the room. “Oh, Miss Alys, it’s dreadful. Dreadful!” she repeated for emphasis.

  “What has happened?” Alys demanded as she sat up in the bath.

  Her maid wrung her hands together. “There’s been a terrible accident.”

  Alys stepped out of the water before pulling on her robe to cover her nakedness. “What sort of accident?”

  Meg’s eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. “Master Teddy has been shot!”

  Alys reached out and clutched hold of the mantel of the fireplace as she felt the blood drain from her face and she swayed unsteadily.

  Teddy had been shot?

  By accident, as Meg said?

  Or had someone shot him deliberately?

  That obvious someone being Deveril…

  Chapter 10

  Devil had only just settled himself in his usual chair in the library before rising to his feet again at the first sound of the shouts from outside. He arrived in the entrance hall in time to see Newcomb being carried inside by several of the other gentlemen who had left for the shoot earlier with their host.

  The growing red stain on the front of Teddy Newcomb’s white shirt and gray waistcoat would seem to indicate that one of those shots had gone awry.

  Devil had hardly begun to take in the significance of that when Alys rushed past him to her brother’s side. Devil’s eyes narrowed as he realized Alys was wearing only a robe which clung indecently to the dampness of her body. Indeed, several of the younger gentlemen’s attention was diverted from their host’s dilemma to instead stare at Devil’s bride with frank appraisal.

  Maxim also appeared in the hallway at that moment, no doubt also brought here by the noise and commotion. Devil had not seen hide nor hair of the other man this morning. No doubt the earl was suffering from their overindulgence of brandy the night before. A suffering Devil had dispelled in himself by taking a walk outside earlier to clear his head.

  “Take Alys back to her bedchamber,” Devil instructed his friend harshly. “Just do it, Maxim!” he grated as the other man seemed set to argue. “I do not want her to be subjected to any more of Newcomb’s unpleasantness,” he added grimly.

  A silent message passed between the two men before Maxim nodded abruptly and moved to Alys’s side. “Let me take you back upstairs.” He took a light grasp of her arm.

  Alys appeared uncomprehending as she turned to look at Carlton, her eyes blank of all but the shock she obviously felt at seeing the blood on her brother’s clothing.

  “You cannot remain downstairs in that state of undress, Alys,” Newcomb roused himself enough to admonish. “And for God’s sake, could someone send for the bloody doctor,” he added with a pained wince.

  “Go with Maxim, Alys,” Devil instructed firmly as the butler hurried from the room to do his employer’s bidding. “Your brother is correct, you are not clothed appropriately to be in the presence of male company,” he added decisively as Alys looked set to argue further.

  Alys stared at Deveril blankly for several more seconds before glancing down at herself. A hot tide of embarrassed color swept over her as she realized she had left her bedchamber wearing only her robe, and the material was now clinging obscenely to her wet body. Her rose-colored nipples were clearly visible against the white material, as were the dark curls at the apex of her thighs.

  Hysteria welled up inside her. Duty dictated she remain at her brother’s side whether he wished her there or not. Decency demanded she go back to her room and dress before appearing in public again.

  Decency won, as she allowed the Earl of Carlton to escort her from the room and back up the stairs.

  Alys had managed to regain some of her scattered wits by the time they stood together in the hallway outside her bedchamber. “It would seem someone has shot my brother.”

  Carlton raised a blond brow. “Someone?”

  Alys drew in a shaky breath. “Teddy was particularly obnoxious yesterday evening. Deveril could not be blamed if he took exception—”

  “I have no idea what transpired this morning, but whatever it was, and however much your brother may deserve it, I assure you Devil did not shoot him,” the earl stated emphatically. “And if you do not know him better than that, perhaps you should not be marrying him this afternoon,” he added aloofly.

  Alys knew she deserved Carlton’s admonition. But surely it was too much of a coincidence that Teddy had been shot only hours after Sebastian threatened him?

  She moistened her lips before speaking. “What do you think happened?”

  “Until I know more of the details, I have no idea,” the earl answered her coolly. “But my belief in Devil’s innocence will not change in the slightest after I learn what those facts are.”

  Impossible not to hear the censure in Carlton’s tone. A merited rebuke, considering, as the earl had said, Deveril was to become her husband later today.

  Her gaze avoided meeting Carlton’s cool gray one. “I will rejoin you downstairs just as soon as I am dressed.”

  He nodded. “I will inform Devil that is your intention.”

  The earl could “inform” Deveril of exactly what he pleased; it would make no difference to Alys’s plan to rejoin the gentlemen downstairs as soon as possible.

  She needed to know exactly what had happened this morning that had resulted in her brother being shot.

  “How is Newcomb?”

  Devil stood at the back of the blue salon, where Teddy Newcomb had been carried and placed on the sofa while they waited for the arrival of the doctor. “Hamming it up for all he’s worth,” Devil answered Maxim with a distinct lack of sympathy. “From what I can tell, it is only a straight-through shot and not life-threatening. More’s the pity,” he added under his breath.

  “Have a care who hears you say that, Devil,” the other man warned softly. “Did one of the other gentlemen misfire his gun?”

  “From what has been said, I gather no one is claiming credit for firing the shot.”

  “Devil!”

  He drew in a deep breath and heeded Carlton’s warning by changing the subject. “How was Alys when you left her?”

  “Upset and yet numbed at the same time. In shock, I believe.”

  “Damn it to hell!” He turned away to stare out the window, his thoughts inward rather than on the view outside.

  “She will rejoin us as soon as she is dressed.”

  “I never doubted it,” he drawled.

  “Where were you this morning, Devil?”

  He arched a brow. “Excuse the black humor, but are you playing Devil’s Advocate, Maxim?”

  The other man scowled. “From your avoidance of providing an answer, I gather you do not have a witness to confirm your movements this morning?”

  “I believe you may have missed your calling, Maxim, and should perhaps have been a lawyer. It is worse than that, I’m afraid,” Devil admitted as the earl narrowed his gaze on him. “I went for a walk outside earlier, had only returned to the house a few minutes before Newcomb was
carried into the house bleeding like a stuck pig.”

  “Good God…”

  “Indeed.”

  “There is more than one person here, after your threats toward Newcomb yesterday evening, who will believe you are responsible for having shot him this morning,” Carlton continued grimly. “I am not one of them,” he assured as Devil raised his brows. “But you have to admit it does not look good, following on from Alys’s previous accusation you killed her father.”

  Devil clenched his jaw. “Are you saying Alys believes that I have now shot her brother?”

  “I am saying she does not know what to think.”

  He snorted. “In other words, she is one of the people who believes I shot Newcomb.”

  Carlton raised his brows. “Did you? I am only asking you the question every person in this room, except myself and the one really responsible for shooting Newcomb would like to ask you, but dare not,” he reasoned as Devil’s scowl deepened. “I have no doubt the local authorities will ask you the same question once they become involved. Which they will.”

  Devil shook his head. “I did not shoot Newcomb. If I had, I would have made sure the shot pierced his heart, not his shoulder. Or better yet, his head. After his recent behavior, I am not sure he possesses a heart.”

  “As would I.” Both men were excellent shots. “Then it must have been one of them.” Carlton turned to survey the other gentlemen gathered in the room. “Any idea which one?”

  Devil sighed his impatience. “I do not know any of them well, and I have spent as little time as possible in their company since my arrival here.”

  “I cannot say that I blame you.” The earl looked down his nose at the assembled company. “Not exactly the cream of Society, are they?”

  “Neither is Newcomb.”

  “Which makes your decision to marry his sister somewhat suspect,” Carlton reasoned.

  Devil straightened. “My reasons for marrying Alys are my own.”

  The other man quirked a brow. “You cannot believe the wedding will still take place after this.”