A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)

by Vane, Victoria

  It was past time to escape. Diana spun around only to hear a familiar, feminine voice declare from inside the ballroom, "So that's where the draft is coming from!" The terrace door clicked firmly shut, followed by the sound of the tumblers turning in the lock. Realizing she was now trapped with DeVere, Diana wanted to cry out in dismay. She turned her back to him in an effort to compose herself. She fixed her gaze out over the lawn, at the fountain in its midst shimmering under the light of myriad flambeaux. "Please," she said in an unsteady voice, "I can't bear it again. I truly don't want this."

  Her heart galloped when he stroked the backs of his fingers down her arms and then over her breasts. Her treacherous body betrayed her once more, her nipples instantly tingling and hardening in response to him.

  "But I think you do," he said.

  "No! I don't! I am not the same woman I was four years ago. I'd had a horrible shock. Several, in fact, that made me much too vulnerable to you. My life was crumbling before my eyes, and you exploited that."

  "Is that what you tell yourself?" he asked. "I did no such thing, Diana. You turned to me in your need. I did not coerce you."

  "You saw my weakness and took advantage of it!"

  "How?" he asked "How did I take advantage of you? You sought me out, remember? You came to my bed, and I gave you what you asked for...and much more. How is that exploitation?"

  "As soon as you got what you wanted, you broke it off and disappeared! You were gone for four years, Ludovic! No word. Nothing!"

  "And you believe it was by my choice?" His voice sounded rough and edged with bitterness. "Have the past years not brought you any clarity?"

  "You made it clear enough at the time. 'Amorous idylls are best ended before the bloom is off the rose.'" She laughed, an equally harsh sound.

  He winced. "Did I say that?"

  "Yes! And then you paid me off like some high-priced whore."

  "It was an exceedingly generous settlement, intended to provide for your security."

  "Am I supposed to feel gratitude?"

  "Frankly, yes!"

  "But a lease to a house is so very mundane, Ludovic. What do you intend to offer me this time? Diamonds and rubies?"

  "Don't, Diana! You are different from the rest."

  "How am I to think myself any different from your countless mistresses, concubines, and whores, when you took what you wanted and offered payment in return?"

  "Damn you! It wasn't like that. You know that's not how I thought of you. How I feel about you!"

  "Feel?" she cried out. "What could a man like you possibly feel beyond your—"

  "My what?" He brought her hand to his groin. "Say it, Diana. I love hearing vulgar words from your lovely lips."

  "I refuse to gratify that." She snatched her hand away as if burned.

  He laughed. "Then I'll say it for you—my cock. The part of me that oftimes governs my life. Yes, I feel a great deal there and with great frequency, but each encounter is soon forgotten. You were the exception to that. You were never just a fuck to me. Can't you understand that? For the first time, I wanted more. I wanted something else from you, Diana, but that something was denied me. And when I knew I couldn't have it, when it appeared utterly impossible, I was enraged."

  "So you left."

  "Yes, I left. I had several good reasons for doing so...not the least of which was to protect a certain widow's good name."

  "What misery it must have been for you to be obliged to gallivant about continental brothels and gaming rooms for four years. So self-sacrificing," she jeered.

  "I won't apologize to you or to anyone else for my way of life, madam. Wine, women, gaming, and horses are a lifelong habit but one with which I have become utterly bored of late. The drinking, the gaming, the whoring, it became the same day after day, just in other locales. 'Tis why I eventually went to the East to try to discover something more, something worthwhile. Ironically, the only diversion or peace I have found was among those so-called heathen Turks."

  "Then why did you bother to return?"

  "I almost did not, but you might say I wore out my welcome. My money only bought me limited time as they never truly accept infidels. I seriously contemplated conversion just to remain there, but I lacked the spiritual fortitude and could not in good conscience pretend to live under their religious yoke. I am many things, Diana, but not a hypocrite."

  "You expect me to swallow that tripe when you have re-embraced all the depravity you just professed to have shunned?"

  "Don't mock me," he said. "I bear physical evidence of my sincere attempt of redemption, but I accept that I failed. Thus, what is left for me now but to indulge my senses?"

  "Your journey of self-discovery is a truly moving tale, my lord, but I fail to see what any of it has to do with me."

  "Do you not?" he asked. "For I see it at last. It's rare that I have known honesty, Diana. I realized this three weeks ago, the very moment you marched into my private chambers in all your glorious, self-righteous fury."

  "But you knew I would come, didn't you? It was all a ploy, just an amusing game to you. That's all I have ever been, isn't it? Merely a challenge to entertain a bored rake?"

  "That may have been true in the very beginning, but I told you, you are different to me. Your fire, your passion, it represents truth. You feel deeply, Diana, and do not conceal it. When we were together, I was more alive because of you. I wanted more of that...but then certain circumstances made it impossible."

  "Certain circumstances or certain people?" she asked.

  "Ah, so clarity does come at last! Yes, Diana, Caroline would have destroyed you. I would not be responsible for that."

  "So you hied off to God-knows-where in order to protect me?"

  "Yes. Leaving my home and my brother was not my preference, but I could not have protected you otherwise."

  "Yet you hardly pined for your loss of me, and you stayed away far longer than was necessary."

  "I don't deny I have enjoyed the company and the favors of other women, but the majority of them—as most of the people in my life, Hew and Ned excluded—have been largely parasitic. It's mutual, of course, for I have taken what I desired in return."

  "A confession that brings us full circle, my lord."

  "No, Diana. There you are wrong. I never took anything from you that was not freely offered, and for the record, I reciprocated more than I have with any other. I ask nothing from you now beyond the same honesty you once gave me. I am weary of being surrounded by nothing but greed and vice."

  "Because you seek it out!" she insisted. "And if anything good came to lie at your feet, you would be too blinded by hedonistic self-indulgence to see it!"

  "Wrong again, my love," he murmured. "For I clearly see you."

  ***

  Diana opened her mouth to remonstrate, but no sound emerged.

  Sensing her lowered guard, he entrapped her between his body and the marble balustrade in front of them, brushing his fingers along the neckline of her bodice, locating her nipples, while he sucked her neck. He found the hollow place behind her ear with his tongue, and her erstwhile protest transformed into a strangled moan.

  "Are you going to bite me again?" he asked. "Or do I take that sound as an invitation?"

  "Please, don’t," she protested, even as she tilted her head back, giving him easier access.

  "Still, you contradict yourself," he said, licking and nibbling her skin while his thumb and forefinger teased her nipple. "The truth now, Diana. Do you truly wish me to stop? Or shall I take that rosy nipple into my mouth and suckle it while I finger you until you scream? Or would you rather I tongue you to your release? I would be happy to comply with either. The door is locked, and I would be concealed by those voluminous skirts of yours. Thus, it is purely your preference."

  "Dear God," she cried out, a sound of mixed pleasure and protest. "Why are you doing this?"

  "Because I'm a ruthless bastard when I want something, and I want the truth from you. If I must go to my k
nees to get it...so be it."

  She gasped in another halfhearted protest, her chest rapidly rising and falling as he cupped her breasts, squeezing and molding the soft mounds. He ground his cock against her buttocks, and she arched into him with a soft cry. He released one breast to inch under her petticoat, skirting up the inside of her smooth, quivering thighs, until he approached the object of his desire. To his smug satisfaction, he found her wet with the want she so vehemently denied.

  "A mere touch, and you'd explode," he remarked. "Don't dare refute it now, Diana. I've never known a woman want to come so badly. I can cure your ache. I can give you what you want...what you need."

  "Damn you to hell, DeVere!" she cried, jerking out of his hold. "Yes, I want you now, but I would despise myself for it the moment we finished."

  "Why?" he asked, confounded.

  "Why? Because I once confused passion for deeper feeling. I won't make that mistake again."

  "But don't you remember how it was between us? I can bring you rapture. You know that. What harm is there?"

  "Surely the same words the serpent whispered to Eve," she retorted. "I can't deny the physical attraction between us, but it's not enough for me. I refuse to seek empty pleasure in meaningless copulation."

  "What the devil do you want from me?" Ludovic cried in a growing agony born of mounting frustration.

  "Absolutely nothing, my lord. I don't love or even respect you. I find you arrogant, selfish, immoral, and altogether lacking in character."

  He flinched as if she'd slapped him. "Me? Lacking character?"

  "Yes," she replied, "and of the two of you, Hew is by far the better man. Now pray unhand me."

  And in his speechless amazement, Ludovic did just that.

  ***

  With the terrace door locked, Diana fled through the gardens and around to the servants' entrance. Seeking the solace of her bedchamber, she wended her way through the army of surprised maids and footmen who tended the party, too rattled to do more than nod. She took the backstairs to her room, knowing her absence would soon be noted but desperate for time alone to recompose her jangled nerves.

  She strode to her dressing table to repair at least the superficial damage wrought by the amorous encounter. Diana pinned up stray strands of hair with trembling fingers.

  Four years. It had been four years since she'd felt a man's touch, a lover's lips. In the beginning, the craving had been a persistent ache deep in her belly, but over time, it had mercifully dulled until almost imperceptible, only evincing itself again with a ferocity the day she walked in on Edward and Phoebe. They had just wed, and she'd barged into his study with only a perfunctory knock to find them with clothing askew, locked in an impassioned embrace. The sight of them, disheveled and flushing, had reawakened the yearning for physical intimacy with a vengeance.

  She had thought to escape the constant reminder and the awkwardness of the situation by taking Vesta to London. Her only qualm had been the prospect of encountering DeVere, her one and only lover, the man who had opened the door to paradise only to abruptly disappear from her life with no explanation. She had despised him for that—for giving her what she most craved only to take it away. But now pieces of the puzzle had begun to come together.

  She knew Caroline had wanted him back. The duchess had made no secret of it. She had also been in league with Reggie. Caroline had known things no one else was privy to. Was it possible she'd tried to blackmail DeVere?

  He had confessed tonight that he'd left to protect Diana's good name, but she had believed the very worst of him all this time, had even briefly suspected him of murdering Reggie. Then tonight, she had added insult to injury by impugning his manhood, his honor. He'd not been unaffected by her verbal assault. Indeed, he'd looked almost stricken. It gave her pause.

  Diana now recalled her recent visit from the courtesan, Salime, and all that had revealed. Was it possible she'd misjudged him? Her chest constricted at the very notion. For if DeVere was only half the villain she believed him to be...wanted him to be...Diana's heart was in grave danger indeed.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Long after the party ended, DeVere sprawled in the leather chair in Ned's study. His boots kicked off, coat and cravat discarded, he stared blankly into the empty hearth. "I want her, Ned," he said. "My bloody bollacks ache for want of her."

  Ned poured them both a drink, replying without the least compassion, "If you refer to Diana, my friend, you waste your effort sniffing about her skirts. She won't have you. I've told you so before. She's a virtuous woman, not a plaything. I'd advise you to slake your lust elsewhere."

  "But that's the damnable thing about it. Fucking is what I like best. It's what I do best, and yet I can't seem to summon any fucking enthusiasm for it. What the devil is wrong with me?"

  "When was the last time, DeVere?"

  "Damned near three weeks ago. I feel like a monk."

  Ned arched a brow. "Dare I ask about your state of health?"

  "Hang you, Ned!" DeVere growled. "I don't have the bloody pox! You know I always take precautions. It's not that I can't, it's that I've lost the desire for any other woman. Yet the moment she walks into a room, I find myself nearing a full cockstand. I'm so full of my own unspent essence that I can't think straight."

  "There's always the old way," Ned suggested with a grin.

  "And I've bloody well blistered my palm frigging myself. It's to no avail. No, Ned. I will have her. One way or another."

  "Take care, DeVere," Ned warned. "Diana has no husband, brother, or father to protect her, thus I willingly appoint myself to the role. She is a grown woman who can make her own decisions, for the better or worse. But if she won't have you, I advise you to let her be. I will not allow you to harass her."

  DeVere smirked. "Is that a threat?"

  Ned raised his glass and smiled back at him. "No, my dear friend. It's a promise. Speaking of which, I promised my darling wife I would not leave her alone in a cold bed."

  DeVere glared. "I think you delight in rubbing salt in my wound."

  "I do, indeed." Ned chuckled and stood. "What are your plans? Do you stay until the wedding? Or do you return for the sacrament?"

  "Actually, you have timed the event poorly, for it coincides with the derby races at Epsom."

  "You don't mean to say you would miss your only brother's wedding for a race?"

  "It's not just any race, Ned. It's for two thousand guineas, and I have the winning horse. He proved himself nigh unbeatable in Doncaster this week. But no, I don't wish to miss the happy occasion. Instead, I have a proposition for you, one I think shall answer nicely. Why not hold the wedding at Woodcote Park? A great many of our mutual acquaintances will already be gathered there. Besides, I have decided to gift the estate to Hew and Vesta. What more opportune time to tell them?"

  Ned's brows rose. "You are deeding them Woodcote Park?"

  "That is my intention. Hew is very fond of the place while my own attachments to it has greatly waned. I am thinking now to establish my stables closer to Newmarket."

  "That's exceedingly generous," Ned said. "And actually, DeVere, I think it a splendid idea. I think they would be delighted to wed there. We can always hold a traditional wedding breakfast for them here at a later date."

  "Capital. Then I shall depart in the morning to make preparations. I shall expect you all in a fortnight."

  "I have only one hesitation," Ned said.

  DeVere cocked a brow.

  "What of Diana? There was much unpleasantness the last time we were all gathered there—her husband's death was quite a shock. I fear it may be too much for her to return."

  "You and I both know Diana is not so faint hearted. Besides," Ludovic added with rare reflection, "how better to exorcise the specters of the past?"

  ***

  Diana rose intentionally late and ordered breakfast in her room in hope of avoiding Lord DeVere but soon learned she needn't have worried. Contrary to his custom, he had ridden out early that morni
ng bound for Epsom. Indeed, she thought it unlikely he had ever gone to his bed at all. Unable to sleep, she'd heard Edward's footfalls softly creeping down the hall to the master bedchamber just before dawn, but no other had come after.

  She told herself she was relieved not to have to face him after what had transpired on the terrace. She was glad to avoid the awkwardness and antipathy, for surely it could only be so after her poisonous invective. Yet unwanted thoughts of him lingered. His scandalously seductive suggestions had burned into her brain the same way his scorching mouth had marked her skin. It would be so very easy to give in, to take her pleasure with the same selfish greed others did, but then the emptiness would follow. She now understood the behavior of people like DeVere and Caroline, who passed from one lover to the next, persistently seeking meaning in the meaningless—for the same hollow ache now haunted her. She had endured it for the last four years.

  No, she didn't want that, couldn't bear it again. She wished she knew why DeVere affected her so, and even more that she had some miraculous purgative to expunge him from her system. Diana had long determined she would have a whole man, one capable of giving her love and respect, or none at all...and the latter seemed a bleak, but real prospect.

  Polly had already begun packing her trunk for her return home when Vesta bound into her chamber. "We missed you at breakfast, Aunt Di."

  "I was exhausted after last night," she offered her excuse. "It was a truly lovely party, Vesta."

  "Wasn't it, though?" the younger woman gushed, dreamy-eyed. "And now it's official. Hew and I are to be wed in a fortnight."

  "So soon? A fortnight is scarce long enough to arrange everything. Shall I stay to help? Poor Phoebe is barely accustomed to the household. To plan a wedding would surely be overwhelming for her."

  "Poor Phoebe?" Vesta repeated.

  "Yes, Vesta. Upon closer acquaintance, I think I am guilty of misjudging her. She has all the marks of genteel breeding and is not at all the strumpet I had presumed her to be."