He had no sooner handed hat and coat off to the lone servant keeping the empty house then Salime rushed to kneel before him in the vestibule, kissing his hand. "Effendi! You have come at last!"
"But of course," he replied, raising her to her feet. "You must know I would never deny you my aid." In truth, he had nearly forgotten her in his morose musings about Simon.
"But I feared with your marriage…that khanum…" She bit her lip.
DeVere felt a peculiar twinge at the mention of his wife. It was not as if he had purposely kept this interview from Diana. He had simply overlooked the matter in his hasty departure. "As I do not have a complete understanding of it myself, I have yet to explain your situation to Diana, but I am certain she would not have me turn my back on you. "Come, Salime." He took her gently by the elbow. "We will retire to share the hookah. Then you will tell me what is troubling you…and how I might assist."
For close to an hour Salime sat cross-legged at his feet, tending the pipe, while he reclined on a divan, smoking and slowly drawing the story from her. "In the end, you will see it is all for the best, my dear." He blew purple-cast smoke rings in the air. "You deserve much better than to be a mere plaything to rich and idle men."
"But it is what I was trained for, Effendi, to serve a man's pleasure. It is all I know, and I am not ashamed in this. Where I come from, such skills are not only a woman's sole means to achieve a measure of comfort, but to please the sultan and to be raised to the place of favorite mistress or haseki is the greatest of honors—only exceeded by becoming a kadin."
"A wife," he said, musing now of Diana–alone in their bed—and wanting her fiercely.
"One of four wives," Salime corrected. "In my country, to serve the sultan, whether as mistress or wife, is to ensure a lifetime of ease and security, but the English ways are different. Here a mistress has no security and is as readily cast aside as a worn slipper."
"I wish I could argue the truth of it, but even a shoe can be re-soled before it's cast aside."
"Such is true if one has a protector to pay the debt to the cobbler. I did not."
"What will you do now?" he asked.
"I do not yet know, Effendi. I had hoped…" She gazed up at him longingly.
Fearing she would voice what clearly shone in her eyes, he quickly shook his head. "I'm sorry, my dear." He stroked her cheek to lessen the blow. "The English ways are different in regard to mistresses and wives."
She arched a brow. "Not so very different, Effendi. Many men have mistresses and lovers. Why else would such as King's Place exist?"
"Point taken," he said with a tight smile.
Struggling to suppress his own needs— needs that he knew she would enthusiastically gratify— he avoided her direct gaze, concentrating instead on the colorful silk wall coverings, the low burning brass lamps. "What I meant is that not all wives accept a man's philandering ways. There are some who expect, nay, demand, exclusivity…fidelity."
Ever demure, she looked down at her hands. "Khanum, the fiery one. She is such a wife?"
"Aye, Salime. And I have sworn my lasting fidelity. I would not break my vow to her even if I wanted to—which I do not. My desire is only for Diana." He took another long draw on the hookah.
"She is the most fortunate of women, Effendi, to merit such devotion."
"My so-called devotion is perhaps a two-edged sword." He chuckled, but then grew sober at her frown. "Given a choice, Salime, would you not also prefer only one man?"
"You know that choice was taken from me, Effendi," she said sadly. "No man would willingly look daily upon this face." She traced the scar she kept hidden from the world. "Even you who I thought might…"
He scowled. "Your scar has nothing to do with my decision to forego a mistress, Salime. I think you already know that. But surely there is another man who can see the true jewel that you are—"
"There is none!" she cried. "Only a woman has eyes to see the beauty beneath the skin."
He grimaced and handed her the stem. "You believe all men to be so shallow?"
She returned a sad smile and then drew again from the pipe.
Although surrounded by a haze of smoke, in that moment a cloud lifted from his formerly muddled mind. The answer was so perfect. So clear. Ludovic had to tamp down a chuckle at his own brilliance. "But what if there was such a man, Salime? One capable of perceiving the greater beauty within?"
Salime snorted again. "What if camels could fly, Effendi?"
"Salime, I would ask a boon of you."
She responded without hesitation, "You know I would do anything for you, Effendi."
"Thank you, my dear. But perhaps you would hear me out first?"
"As you wish."
"I have a friend, a very dear friend, with a grave dilemma. It is an affliction which requires a unique kind of healing."
"He is in need of a physician?"
"No. The quacks can do nothing for him. Although he physically suffers, it is not truly a physical ailment."
"You mean he is touched in the head, Effendi?"
"No." Ludovic paused, struggling to explain what he himself did not fully comprehend. "He may believe himself so, for he experienced a great deal of torment that lasted a number of years, but, I don't think it's as bad as all that. "
"I am no healer. I do not understand what you would ask of me."
"I only wish for you to be his companion, Salime. He is in great want of one who understands a man's deepest needs. I am of the belief that you alone could relieve his distress."
"Me? You have such confidence, Effendi?"
"I have every confidence in you, my dear. Simon means a great deal to me. Should you accept this proposition, I would be exceedingly pleased. Moreover, I would provide you most generous compensation."
"It is not for the money that I accept," Salime said. "It is for you, Effendi. You have asked this of me, so how can I refuse?"
He returned a soft smile. "I pray, Salime, that one day you meet a man who will prove himself worthy of such devotion."
Chapter Thirty-two
Diana was still awake when the sound of iron-shod hooves echoed a clatter over the cobbles below. She ran to the window just as the lamp-bearing footman moved to lower the step of the carriage, but in a typical display of impatience, Ludovic leaped from the vehicle before he had a chance. Her husband then gestured some commands with brisk motions before advancing with rapid strides toward the house. Her gaze tracked every movement until he was lost from view.
Diana pulled on her dressing gown, deciding to confront him straightaway, rather than waiting another night nurturing suspicions and resentment. She couldn't continue like this, couldn't live with the uncertainty of his fickle affections…of his fidelity.
Only three months before, she had been fully prepared to rear their child on her own, but then he had come to her, voicing everything her heart yearned for—sweet promises she never expected to hear from his beautiful lips. He had vowed to love, honor, and cherish her—to forsake all others, and she had drunk in every intoxicating word, until giddiness filled her very being. But now these same vows were her sword and shield. With them Diana was armed to face Ludovic and would wield them mercilessly in her fight for her marriage.
***
Ludovic was exhausted. He had left DeVere House near midnight—after he and Ned had gotten Sin foxed enough to abduct him from the rooms he had refused to leave. They had remained at DeVere House only long enough to see their friend comfortably installed in DeVere's own luxurious chambers, where Simon would awake to find himself in Salime's tender care.
Although it was a highly unorthodox proposition, Ludovic had full confidence in Salime's ability to effect Simon's cure. He had departed London in the belief that no further intervention would be needed. Simon was a man with a man's needs. Even blemished as she was, Salime was still an exceedingly desirable woman, and one skilled in all manner of pleasure. They were alone together in the lap of luxury. Nature would surely take its c
ourse.
Smug in the knowledge that he had done a supreme service for two friends in need, Ludovic wasted no further time in departing for Kent, where he fully intended to indulge his own needs with the woman he adored beyond reason. In his urgency to return to Diana, he had pushed his harried coachman beyond the bounds of all good sense—nearly overturning the damned vehicle thrice along the way—but now here he was, happy to be returned to Medford Abbey, the former mausoleum that had become a home at last.
Taking the steps two at a time, his boot heels struck the marble stairs leading to his and Diana's apartments. His drowsy valet, Masters, met him in his dressing room and immediately went to work, but the moment Ludovic was divested of his boots and tight-fitting coat, Diana appeared in the doorway. She looked wan and drawn, as though she hadn't slept, and Ludovic was instantly beset by a pang of guilt. Although he had not intended to wake her, in his eagerness to see her, he had made no great effort to prevent it either.
He was further unsettled to find, rather than a warm smile of greeting, a slight frown marring her features when their gazes met. "Are you all right, my pet?" he asked.
"Yes. I'm fine," she remarked stiffly. "And glad you are arrived safely, my lord."
But none too pleased to see him by the look of it. He shook his head in befuddlement. "My lord? I don't recall ever adopting such formal address in our bedchamber." He impatiently shooed Jacobs away and advanced toward her, arms extended. He was further flummoxed when Diana held back, making no move to enter his embrace.
"What the devil is wrong, Diana? If you are piqued that I left you alone, I can only beg your understanding that the nature of my journey was far from pleasure. Moreover, you must realize by this late hour that I left London like a madman in my eagerness to return to you."
"Was it truly eagerness to see me or did you flee from guilt, Ludovic?"
Her insinuation made the blood in his veins cool to ice. He grasped her firmly by the shoulders. "I won't play these kinds of games, Diana. If there's something on your mind, spit it out!"
She glanced down at her hands and his gaze followed hers, noting now the crumpled sheet of foolscap she held.
He shut his eyes on a groan. "It's not what you think."
"No? You receive an urgent summons from a former lover and then instantly hie off to London? What am I to think of that, Ludovic?"
"Damn it all! I did not intentionally hide her letter from you. It simply slipped my mind when Ned arrived with the more pressing news of Simon."
"Did you see her while in London?"
"Yes. I saw her," he snapped. "She expressed a dire need that I was in a position to answer. Would you begrudge her my assistance, Diana, when she played such a great part in bringing us together?"
"Why did she appeal to you, Ludovic? Surely there are other men—"
"It's a matter of trust, Diana. Look, we have walked this path before. I told you there is nothing between Salime and me. She was never my lover in the sense that you were…are," he quickly amended.
Her mouth formed a tight line. "No. She was simply a woman who willingly and regularly gratified your sexual needs. Needs you have not gratified with me in quite some time. Now she sends for you and you go to her just like that." She snapped her fingers accusingly.
"Because she needed my help, Diana. You know there is much history between Salime and me that has nothing to do with us."
"It has everything to do with you and me!" she cried, shoving against his chest. "Salime is exotic and mysterious and beautiful while I am now big…boring…and bloated!"
"Bloody hell!" He gave an exasperated groan. "Listen to me carefully, Diana. I have fucked many women. Some were beautiful, exotic, and even mysterious, but I have loved only you. And your current gravid condition has not diminished either my love or my desire for you one iota."
"That's not true!" she insisted. "Everything between us has changed! You used to make passionate love to me all the night, Ludovic, but now we are like ships passing!"
"How can it not be different when you carry my child? You are easily fatigued and retire early, my love, when it is not my habit. Yet I still never spend a single night apart from you."
"And when I awake, you are already gone!"
"Damn it all! I thought I was doing you a bloody favor! Dr. Ford, who is considered the premier authority in these matters, confided to me that a woman needs more rest as she grows heavier with child. He strongly advised that I not press you for sex." He clawed both hands through his hair. "For the first time in my selfish life, I endeavored to place your needs above my own, and now have it thrown in my face as inattention!"
Her lips quivered. "Because I fear it will never again be the same between us."
He squeezed her shoulders, tamping down the impulse to shake her. "Why would you even say such an inane thing? Even worse, you accuse me of infidelity when you know how violently I abhorred the faithlessness of my parents' marriage! God help me, I would never allow the same thing to occur in ours."
"What was I to think when you don't even look at me anymore?"
"It's a bloody measure of self-preservation, so I don't go raving mad with my unsated lust. I told you I love you, Diana. I have poured my love into you with every ounce of my being! What further evidence do you require from me?"
"What evidence? I'll tell you what I need." She jutted her chin in challenge. "Make love to me, Ludovic. Right here. Right now. Show me I am wrong. Look at me with passion-filled eyes and prove that you still want me."
***
"You truly think I have lost my desire for you?"
"Yes. I think you have."
His expression hardened. "Then think again, my sweet." He came behind her and filled his big warm hands with her breasts while his hot breath skirted over her nape. "Does it feel like I have no desire, Diana?" He slid his hands down her sides to anchor her at her hips and ground his pelvis against her backside. Only the thin gown prevented his turgid shaft from sliding between the cleft of her buttocks.
"It seems," he stated, dark and ominous, "that what we really have are unresolved issues of trust between us. I have sworn my devotion, my fidelity. We will end this right now. There is no room in this relationship for jealousy and suspicion."
Did he intend to walk out? Panic filled her breast. "What do you mean?"
"You wish me to prove myself to you, Diana? Here and now? Very well then. Quid pro quo."
"I don't understand."
"It means I require an exchange. Since you want proof that I still desire you, you shall have it—but I demand something in return."
"And what is that?"
"I require your absolute and unconditional faith. I won't have this," he made an impatient gesticulation, "hanging between us any longer. Before this night is out, you will trust me, Diana. Fully. Completely. Unreservedly."
His ominous words made her breathless and sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. This was the man who had introduced her to her darkest fantasies, the man who had made them reality. Her pulse had sprung to life under his touch, and now her blood pumped palpably through her veins. "Very well, then." She turned slightly to meet his heated blue stare. "Quid pro quo."
He returned a grim smile. "On your knees, Diana."
Her eyes widened. What the devil was he about? "What did you say?"
"You heard me. I want you on your knees."
"I don't understand. Do you expect me to beg? Or to take you in my mouth? At the moment I am not of a mind to do either, Ludovic. I refuse outright to do the former, and of the latter, it is not for me to prove my desire for you."
"You misapprehend, my dear. I shall give you what you want…but only after you have satisfied me. I told you I demand your full and complete trust and I will have it, for I refuse to pay for another man's sins any longer."
"What are you saying?"
"That your experience with that loathsome sod Reggie still lingers—that it unfairly casts a pall upon me, that you have never given m
e your full confidence, as I have given you."
"But that's not true! You know I have." She turned to face him fully, fought the urge to throw herself into his arms, but her pride prevailed.
"Quite the contrary, my pet. Your doubt of my faithfulness proves otherwise."
He was right and there was only one way to repair the rift before it became an impassable chasm. She sank her teeth into her lip and then blurted, "I'm sorry for my jealousy, Ludovic, for my mistrust. I do believe you…now that you have explained everything. And yes, I would not have had you do differently where Salime is concerned."
He smiled softly and caressed her hair. "I appreciate your confession, my pet. But you see that's no longer enough for me. I need more from you than words."
"But I meant what I said. How can I convince you?"
"I shall believe the moment you believe in me. Given your marital history, I have not pressed you all this time we have been together. I believed that time would heal old wounds—that my love, my attention to your needs, my utter devotion to fulfilling your every desire would serve to eradicate the past. It appears I was wrong."
"How can you say such things?"
"What am I to think, Diana? Your mistrust, doubt, and suspicion have cut me to the quick."
"Now you are intentionally manipulating me and turning the tables!"
"Am I?" He cocked a brow with a feigned look of innocence. "Is what I speak not the truth?"
"Damn you, DeVere!" She had no sooner expelled his name than his mouth came down on hers in a ruthless and devouring kiss. Diana clutched her fingers in his hair and breathed him in, losing herself mind, body, and soul in the vortex of desire created by his mouth and tongue. It had always been like this with him, from the very beginning. His merest touch inflamed her with desire. She wanted him. Madly.
But then he released her as abruptly as he had begun, leaving her bewildered and panting.
A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere) Page 30