Nicola Cornick Collection

by Nicola Cornick

  “He is a scoundrel.” Dev’s voice was fierce. “Chessie deserves so much better but the tragedy is that the only way to save her is through marriage and if I cannot compel Fitz to wed her then I have to call him out—”

  Susanna heard the break in his voice then and saw, alongside the fury, the utter devastation in his eyes. She remembered Chessie’s whispered words: “He would have done anything for me. He did do everything for me—he begged and stole on the street so that I could go to school, he made Alex take responsibility for us, he sent me back his Navy pay …”

  And now, when his sister was ruined, there was finally nothing that Dev could do to help her. Susanna could see how much he hated that. For a man of honor, a man who put his family ahead of all else, it was intolerable. Her heart gave a pang and she felt as though the ground was dropping away beneath her feet and she recognized in that second just how much she loved him.

  “No,” she said. “You cannot compel Fitz to marry Chessie, Devlin. But I can.” She turned to look at Fitz.

  “Fitzwilliam Alton,” she said. “You are a cad and a scoundrel.”

  “Not now, my dear,” Fitz said, fingering his jaw. “This is just a little misunderstanding. Happened before we met. The girl threw herself at me. Well, you know her. Frightfully pushy little strumpet—”

  Susanna felt Dev make an involuntary movement and grabbed his arm before he could hit Fitz again.

  “Fitz,” she said sharply. “You’re not listening to me. Now, you are going to marry Miss Devlin, and you are going to do it with a good grace. I never want to hear you utter another word against her.” She felt the shock go through Dev like lightning but with great force of will she kept her concentration focused on Fitz and did not look at him. “You are going to go and get a special license, Fitz,” she said, “and you will wed Miss Devlin next week.”

  “Don’t know what you are talking about, my dear,” Fitz spluttered. “Wed Miss Devlin? But you and I are to marry—”

  “Not anymore,” Susanna said. “In point of fact, we never were. I was going to jilt you in a few weeks’ time.” She saw Fitz’s mouth gape open. “Your parents paid me to engage your attention,” she said, “because they were afraid that you were becoming too fond of Miss Devlin and might make her an offer. Little did they know—” her voice hardened “—that you had already debauched her and were enough of a scoundrel to ruin her reputation and abandon her.”

  Fitz’s jaw practically hit the floor. “You were going to jilt me? Me?” He boggled at her. “You were paid by my parents?”

  “That’s right,” Susanna said. “And that is the point. If you do not marry Miss Devlin with all haste and every sign of pleasure, I shall make public in the scandal sheets every last one of the things that your parents told me in order to help me capture your interest. Everything, Fitz,” she repeated. “From the amount you owe to your tailor to the fact that your parents had to buy off the Marquis of Portside when you stole from his son whilst at Eton. From the fact that you need padding to fill out your pantaloons to the effect that figs have on your digestion. I may not be able to ruin you the way that you have ruined Miss Devlin but I can and will make you a laughingstock in the ton.”

  Fitz took several unsteady steps toward her, his face suddenly suffused with color. “You bitch,” he said. “I’ll see you damned for this.”

  Dev straightened, stepping between them. “Don’t speak to my wife like that, Alton,” he said, very coldly, and for a moment there was the same protective fury in his voice and in his eyes that there had been for Chessie.

  “Your wife?” Fitz recoiled. “You’re in this together?”

  “Not at all,” Dev said. “I absolutely deplore my wife’s recent behavior but—” he shot Susanna a look in which there was, astonishingly, a hint of a smile “—I have to admire the ruthlessness of her methods.”

  “Think about it, Fitz,” Susanna said. She glanced at the clock. “You have until one o’clock to present yourself at Lord and Lady Grant’s house, with a special license, to make your proposal to Miss Devlin. If you choose not to do so—”

  “I’ll see you drummed out of London for this,” Fitz said viciously.

  “Too late,” Susanna said wryly. “I am already going. But not before I lodge a certain letter with my lawyer. If you step out of line once, Fitz—” she smiled at him “—the papers will publish. You have my word.”

  DEV CAUGHT UP WITH SUSANNA as she was climbing back into the hackney carriage. Before she could give the driver the word to set off he swung up beside her and closed the door after them. He knew Susanna was trying to run away from him. The haste with which she had run out of the Altons’ town house and the rigid set of her shoulders now that they were forced to share this small space told him that his company was unwelcome to her. He knew she did not want to speak to him because there was only one question that he could ask her now and that was the question why. Why had she obliged Fitz to marry Chessie when it went directly against everything that she had been working for? Dev could not fathom it. It made absolutely no sense at all that Susanna would not take advantage of Chessie’s ruin and claim the victory—and the money—for herself.

  “Did I miss something?” he said very politely. “Did you just compel Fitz to marry Chessie, when your entire purpose from the start has been to separate them?” He raised his brows. “Have you become matchmaker rather than heartbreaker?”

  Susanna shrugged. It was impossible to read anything in her face or her demeanor other than that she was wishing him in Hades. She turned away from him and concentrated rather intensely on the passing streets. It was, Dev thought, a tactic of hers when she wanted to avoid his gaze and evade awkward questions. Well, she was going to need to do a great deal better than that now because he had every intention of asking some very difficult questions indeed.

  “It was too late for me to take advantage.” Susanna spoke lightly, her gaze still averted from his. “You said yourself that the truth would come out.”

  “Rubbish,” Dev said. His prime emotion was deep puzzlement—and frustration that she was trying to thwart him. “You could have capitalized on Fitz’s rejection of Chessie and taken the credit for it,” he said. “You could have gone directly to the Duke and Duchess now, taken the money and run. Instead you have forced Fitz to make Chessie an offer—and in the process you have thrown away everything you had worked for.” He shook his head. “Surely you can see that?”

  Susanna shot him a brief look. Her cheeks were pink, her expression stormy.

  “Of course I can see it,” she said. “I am not stupid.” She rubbed her forehead. She looked weary all of a sudden and Dev wanted to put a hand out to her and draw her close. Astonishingly Chessie had turned to Susanna when she was most in need and Susanna had responded. He felt stunned by that, and hugely grateful to Susanna for her compassion. But he was not sure that he would ever understand women.

  “Why?” he said. He leaned forward. “Why did you do it, Susanna?”

  He saw a shudder ripple through her body. Her face was white and strained as though tears of emotion, of exhaustion, were not far away. Yet still she fought them and fought him, too. As the hackney drew up in Curzon Street it was clear that she was not going to give him any answer at all.

  “Don’t come in, Devlin,” Susanna said, setting her hand on the door of the carriage. “I must pack my portmanteau and leave. This house belongs to the Duke and Duchess and I doubt I am welcome here anymore.”

  “Of course I am coming in,” Dev said. “We finish this conversation.”

  Susanna shot him a deeply irritated look from her glorious green eyes. “It is already finished, Devlin,” she said. “Everything is finished.” She was fumbling in her purse for change for the driver. Dev stepped forward, offered the man a coin big enough to make him tip his hat with respect and took Susanna’s arm. She shook him off. He could feel tension in her and something more; a very deep distress that she was trying desperately to hide. She wanted to be r
id of him. She wanted it very much. He sensed it and he was not going to oblige her because he knew now that there was some connection between what had happened to Chessie and something that had happened to Susanna herself. It was the only explanation that made sense. And he knew, too, that whatever Susanna was hiding from him was the last piece of the puzzle, the part she had not yet told him.

  He felt the urgency seize him. He had to know the truth.

  “I sent John to escort Chessie home,” Susanna said. “You should go to her, Devlin. She needs you.”

  “Thank you for taking care of her,” Dev said. “I will go to Bedford Street presently, when we have finished this conversation.” He smiled at her. “I fear your diversionary tactics have not worked, Susanna. I still want to know why you made Fitz marry her.”

  He saw Susanna’s mouth purse as tightly as a drawn string at the realization that he was not going to be deflected. She avoided his gaze and fidgeted with her reticule.

  “I won’t deny you the annulment,” she said suddenly, “if you are afraid to leave me in case I run off. There is no need to keep me under your gaze.”

  “Just at the moment,” Dev said, keeping a tight hold on his patience, “the annulment of our marriage is the last matter on my mind.” Exasperation gripped him. He gestured to the door. “Are we going in or are we to discuss this in the street, Susanna?”

  Susanna made a huffing sound. “You are monstrous persistent.”

  “And you are shockingly evasive,” Dev said. He took her arm, steering her into the house and toward the drawing room. He closed the door behind them and stood with his palms resting against the panels.

  “So,” he said. “Why did you do it, Susanna? Why did you save Chessie?”

  Susanna had gone across to the chaise and had thrown her bonnet and gloves down onto it. Now she turned and the look in her eyes made Dev’s heart lurch. He had thought that she might still try to stall him, try to pass the matter off as nothing when it was everything. Now he saw that he was wrong. The distress in her, the pain occasioned by Chessie’s situation, was clearly so fresh and so close to the surface that she could no longer deny it. He saw her grip her slender fingers together so tightly that they turned white. She looked brittle, as though she might snap in two under the strain of her emotion.

  Dev instinctively started to move toward her. “Susanna—” he said.

  “I know what it is like to be pregnant and alone,” Susanna said abruptly. She spoke so softly that Dev could barely hear her. Her head was bent and though he sought her eyes she did not look up. “I know how it feels to be as afraid and as lonely as Chessie is now,” she said. Her voice shook a little. “It is terrifying to feel so lost and to have nowhere to turn. I did not want that for your sister.”

  Now at last she met his eyes and Dev almost flinched at the vivid pain he could see in hers. “I lost your child, Devlin,” she said. He saw the tears gather in her eyes but they did not fall. “So now you know,” she said. “Now you know everything.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SUSANNA WAITED FOR DEVLIN’S anger. She waited for him to demand an explanation. She waited for him to walk away. He did none of those things. He came across to her and took her frozen hands in his and urged her gently toward the chaise.

  “You should sit down.” He spoke very softly. His grip on her hands was warm and reassuring. It seemed to cut through the cold grief that was seeping through her and comforted her a little. Dev gave her hands a squeeze and then left her briefly; she heard him asking Margery, very politely, for a pot of tea. Then he was back at her side. And all the time Susanna sat dumb, her mind shrinking from the truth, fearful of the pain she had now raked up and the fact that Devlin would surely hate her for failing him and failing their child, too. She closed her eyes and took a convulsive breath and felt with huge relief Devlin place his hand on hers again, entwining his fingers with hers.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

  Susanna nodded. There was no point in keeping the past a secret from him any longer. Everything she had worked for was in tatters. Her plans to build a new life for herself and Rose and Rory were ruined and she would have to start all over again. Better to do so having told Devlin the whole truth, with nothing held back.

  “I …” Her voice was hoarse with tears. For a moment she did not know where to start.

  “Here.” The tea had arrived and Devlin pressed the cup into her cold hands, holding it steady with his own. “Tea is best for shock,” he said.

  “That’s what I told Chessie earlier,” Susanna said.

  Dev smiled. “I might even have a cup myself,” he said. “Ghastly stuff, but its restorative qualities are well-known.”

  Susanna took a gulp of the scalding liquid and felt her world steady a little. She looked up. Dev was watching her steadily with those very blue eyes. She could see the lines of strain and grief in his face but there was no anger there and no blame.

  “From the beginning?” he said.

  Susanna nodded. The beginning … She placed the cup carefully on the rosewood table, afraid she might spill it because she was shaking so much.

  “The beginning was the morning after we wed,” she said. “I decided that it would be best to confess the whole truth to your cousin and ask for his help, so I left your bed and went to Balvenie to speak with him.” She felt Devlin start but he did not say anything. “Unfortunately Lord Grant was from home,” she said, “but Lady Grant was there. She had taken some small interest in my affairs and so I thought she would be a friend to me.” She paused and bit her lip. It was so foolish now to regret her youthful stupidity but still the memories goaded her. She had been so trusting and so easily led. “I told Lady Grant everything,” she said. “I thought that she would help us.”

  Dev shifted slightly. There was an expression in his eyes now that suggested to Susanna that he had probably known Amelia Grant better than she. “It may not surprise you,” she said dryly, “to know that far from offering her support, Lady Grant told me that I had done a terrible thing in running away with you.” She fidgeted with the fringe of one of the cushions, shredding it through her fingers. “She spoke more in sorrow than in anger but she made me feel so ashamed,” she said. “She told me that Lord Grant had that very day procured a commission in the Navy for you and that you would be going to sea, and that your sister depended upon your Navy pay and that Lord Grant would be terribly disappointed in you if you turned it down.” She looked up to see Dev still watching her, now with pity and a vivid regret that cut her to the heart. “She said you could not support a wife and that if I loved you I should go … pretend it had all been a mistake, set you free to forge a career and be the man your family wanted you to be.” She swallowed hard. “I felt so foolish and so guilty,” she said softly. “So I did exactly what she said. I ran away.”

  Dev shook his head abruptly. “I was going to take you with me,” he said. His voice was a little rough. “I know I should have told you but we spoke so little of our plans.”

  “We were young,” Susanna said. She smiled faintly. “I do not think that talking—or even planning—was foremost in our minds,” she said ruefully. She drew a painful breath. “I did not wonder at the time why Lady Grant had interfered but later, when I was older and understood more of the ways of these things I wondered whether she had wanted you herself.” She stopped, looking at Dev.

  Dev pulled a face. “Amelia never tried to seduce me,” he said, “but I did sometimes wonder if she was jealous of me.” He ran a hand over his hair. “Alex was generous to me and I think that Amelia resented that. She resented the time and the money he spent on me. It was Amelia who petitioned Alex to buy me my Navy commission. It was Amelia who found an elderly aunt to care for Chessie.” His smile was cynical. “At the time I thought it was because she wished to help us. Later I realized that what she wanted was Alex’s undivided attention. She wished us to be gone from her life. And so she arranged it—” his eyes met hers “—just
as she ruthlessly dispatched you, too.”

  Susanna picked up her cup again. The warmth was fading from the china now but she pressed her hands close about to draw the last of its heat. “I know I should not have listened to her,” she said, “but I was young and already scared of the consequences of what we had done.” She swallowed what felt like an enormous lump in her throat. “I’m so very sorry, Devlin.”

  Dev took the cup from her hand and put it down very deliberately so that he could once more clasp her fingers in his.

  “This was Amelia’s doing, not yours,” he said fiercely. “You should not have blamed yourself.”

  Susanna shook her head. “Do you remember when I told you about John Denham? How I said that if he had truly been steadfast in his affection for his fiancée then no power on earth would have been strong enough to separate them?” She sighed. “If I had been strong enough and had enough faith then nothing and no one could have come between us, Devlin. But I was not.” She paused but Dev did not speak and she rather thought it was because he knew she was right. She had been too easily persuaded to give him up.

  “I ran back to my uncle’s house,” she said, “and I wrote to you that it had all been a terrible mistake and that I regretted it. I begged you not to come after me. I said that I would obtain an annulment, and then I tried to pretend that it had never happened. Except—”

  She stopped. “Except that you were pregnant,” Dev said. His voice was harsh. Susanna shivered and felt the cold lap again at her heart.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “It was naive of me not to have thought of it.”

  “You were seventeen,” Dev said in the same hard tone, “and innocent. How could you fail to be naive?” His hands tightened on hers and she almost gasped as the grip hurt her. “I should have thought …” Dev said. “I was as naive as you. And I was not there to protect you …”

  With a pang of shock Susanna realized that far from blaming her, he was blaming himself. The discovery brought the hot emotion burning into her chest and stinging her eyes again.