Duke of Darkness

by Anabelle Bryant

  “It’s your move.” He smiled at her. One of those rare, sincere, breathtakingly handsome smiles. “Still thinking about Bickerstaffe?”

  If he only knew.

  “Thinking about the game.” The emphatic lie rolled from her tongue. She moved a pawn to rook four. It was a foolish move and she regretted it as soon as she let go of the piece. She’d have to pay better attention if any chance of winning existed. His mention of their expectations at the Fenhurst gathering was true and she recalled the gossip and Devlin’s unkind reception. She raised her eyes from the board, little caring if he spied the adoration in her eyes. His terrible past and the dark secrecy of his lifestyle made her heart squeeze.

  “I hope you’re not going to get all calf eyed over a simple bouquet of flowers and a little card. I thought you wanted to win this game. You named the stakes.”

  Her brow raised in pique at his brusque tone. “What do you remember about him, from when you turned him away the other day? Was he tall? Was he handsome? Did he wear spectacles? I’ve always thought spectacles charming on a gentleman.”

  Devlin looked like he had swallowed a toad. For the life of her, she couldn’t name the reason.

  “I didn’t meet him. I had Reeston turn him away. Ridiculous man showing up before calling hours.” Devlin captured another piece and her spirit wilted. She shoved her rook to an open square and began to speak, but he overrode her in a peevish tone.

  “And don’t pester my butler either. He has enough to contend with chasing after Just Henry. Your dog can smell a sugar biscuit across the entire estate.” Devlin thrust his queen forward with more force than necessary.

  “Are you angry with me?” Alexandra captured his knight and she swore fire flashed in the depths of his eyes.

  “I’m not angry.” He retracted his queen a square.

  “Do you miss King? You should bring him back to the estate. I never meant to banish him to the stables when I moved into Kenley Manor.” She advanced upon his queen with a swift play.

  His features softened and he exhaled long and thoroughly. Then his eyes fell to the diamond pendant around her neck. It was the nicest gift she’d ever received. She wore it always. Had he noticed? Apparently he did now.

  Devlin’s distemper passed and they focused all attention on the game, the subsequent moves strategic battles between two chess players intent on victory.

  “Speaking of relocating, I would be pleased if you moved to the east wing. Originally I meant to offer you privacy and time to settle into the manor, but as I’ve found you extraordinarily witty, and since my staff has practically adopted you, perhaps you would like to move closer. My request is long overdue.”

  Alexandra smiled in answer, but not from the request she change rooms. His suggestion pleased her without a doubt, but his compliment brought about her grin. When he called her “extraordinarily witty” she recognized the words from the silly list of paper Julia insisted he assemble. She warmed with the knowing that the words came with sincerity and he no longer attempted to take them back.

  “After a compliment like that, how could I deny the request?” She swept her castle forward with a little flourish. “Check. I wonder if Bickerstaffe plays chess. He sounds like a chess player, don’t you agree?” Inane conversation should throw him off his game and with hope she could win an answer to her question. She doubted she could match his skill.

  “Bickerstaffe sounds like a pastor. I hope for your sake he isn’t. That will get you nowhere fast.”

  He easily manoeuvred out of her attack. Drat.

  “True, I do like to kiss.” It was bold and forward, but blast it, she needed to win.

  Devlin smiled, a slow saturnine grin, like a cat that swallowed not one bowl of cream, but a whole kitchen full. “Interesting fact to share, Lexi. And here I thought I was the only one in the room that savoured the exquisite pleasure derived from a long, passionate kiss. Makes me happy just to think about it.”

  She did not doubt his words and a strange sensation caused her to feel overly warm. She glanced to the window, wishing it was open. Devlin played with practised skill through his next three turns, a smug smile on his lips, his toe tapping incessantly under the table. He was winning as he usually did, and a drastic change of tactic was needed before it was too late.

  “What if we alter our wager a little? You are winning.”

  The corner of his mouth curled. “That I am. And that’s exactly why I don’t wish to change the prize. Now, let me see, what will my question be? There are so many possibilities.” His eyes flared, the gleam in their obsidian depths brighter than ever.

  What could she do to distract him? He enjoyed her disadvantage far too much. What if she just asked him the one question she yearned to know? He couldn’t possibly win if he was back-pedalling for explanations. And oh, it would make him terribly uncomfortable to boot. How clever. She clasped her hands together in her lap where he could not see them and detect her nervousness.

  “Speaking of questions, there is something of a personal nature I have been meaning to ask you.”

  “Well then, ask away.”

  He never glanced from the board, distracted with play, but his foot stopped tapping so she’d captured his attention for the moment.

  “Who exactly is Widow Penslow and how well did you know her?”

  His reserve faltered for a heartbeat, nothing more, then he slid his queen to the open square set on the diagonal before her king.

  “Checkmate, my darling.” He stood up, a broad smile across his face.

  “You won the game?” Alexandra reviewed the board and the placement of pieces, unable to conceive how he’d managed to get past her defences with such ease, most especially when she planned to win.

  “And better still, that means I need not answer your question but someday, you will answer one of mine.” He leaned in and voiced the last bit in soft tones beside her ear, each syllable an echo in her soul. Then, without pause, he pivoted, chuckling as he left the room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Devlin gloated over his chess win when Phineas and Julia arrived after dinner the following evening. He’d anticipated a quiet evening, but with the arrival of the siblings, any wish for solitude was obliterated. Julia took Alexandra aside and apologized as soon as she entered the room. He couldn’t hear the entire conversation but he could tell the two shared no hard feelings. Perhaps Phin had instigated his sister’s contrite entreaty. Phineas was a good friend, more brother actually.

  And one of the only constants in his tumultuous life. Phineas and his entire family made it a point to include him in any social event, even though he almost always declined their invitations. They refused to acknowledge the hurtful rumours and exaggerated gossip surrounding Wharncliffe history. That alone proved no easy feat. While the years lessened the frequency of tales told in ballrooms, there remained an undercurrent of curiosity that ignited speculation and unwelcome comment on the rare occasion Devlin was seen at any social affair.

  Rumors of his father’s madness and shameful behaviour interwoven with speculation of how and why his mother had taken her own life provided the ton with far too many fascinating topics to abandon just because a few decades passed. When it all happened Devlin was a young boy. His Aunt Min and a bevy of servants had taken exceptionally good care of the future duke, but it was his steadfast friendship with Phineas that saw him through his darkest hours. As his father declined and passed, there were gloomy, wretched days when he too considered his future with bleakness and despair.

  Devlin forced the distasteful memories from his mind. Now was not the time. He was a master at presenting an emotionless façade. Why shouldn’t he be? He’d practised the deception for years.

  Phin tapped him on the arm, rescuing him from his maudlin thoughts. With a smile and a nod towards the corner, he indicated the ladies whispering near the hothouse flowers.

  “So Alexandra has herself a suitor after all. What’s the gentleman like?”

  Devlin app
roached the sideboard and poured a brandy. Did he really want it? He’d heard Cook mention she planned to prepare cinnamon rolls. He replaced the decanter and turned to his friend. “Handsome man. Tall, well built. Clever. Everything a woman could desire. Oh, and richer than an Egyptian prince.” His tone implied indifference, but Phineas stood beside him, wide-eyed and impressed.

  “Really? Where has he been hiding? My sister swears she’s never heard of any Lord Bickerstaffe and believe me, she memorizes the social register.”

  Devlin didn’t doubt it, but could he trust Phin with his subterfuge? With certainty. “Actually, you grew up with him. He’s one of your closest friends.” He paused long enough to enjoy the perplexed look on his friend’s face, although Phineas failed to make the connection. He nudged his arm to get his attention. “He’s in the room right now.”

  Phin looked towards the door. Devlin chuckled. And then there was the dawning.

  “You scoundrel. You didn’t. Oh, she will be furious when she finds out.”

  “Well, I had to do something. The so-called best suitors in London weren’t up to snuff as far as I’m concerned. Not only with the encouragement of your sister, but after the delightful experience of dancing with Alexandra, they haven’t mustered the courage to pay a call. Clearly I’m not the one whose sanity should be questioned. Look at Lexi.” He glanced across the room for a long moment, his eyes focused on Lexi, engrossed in conversation and absolutely beautiful. “Who wouldn’t want to be with her?”

  With reluctance, he turned back to his friend. Phin’s expression was classic, eyes flared wide and mouth agape as if he’d come to an awesome revelation.

  “Oh no. You care for her, don’t you?”

  “I’m her guardian, she’s my ward. I’m supposed to care for her.”

  “Not like that you’re not. You can’t do this. It will cause the biggest scandal yet.” Phin lowered his voice to a whisper, but it drew more attention than if he’d continued in his natural tone.

  “I don’t care about scandal. I’m allowed to breech propriety and it is the ton who has afforded me the advantage. I can do whatever I please, whenever I please, and society be damned.” The last thing he desired was an argument about feelings he didn’t understand himself.

  “You can’t employ madness whenever it suits you. Either you’re mad or you’re not. So what are you going to be?”

  Devlin smirked at the flippant question. “I haven’t decided yet. Indecision is part of my affliction.”

  Phineas scoffed. “I recommend you exorcise your demons and work it out before Alexandra gets hurt because I know it is going to end poorly and she deserves better than that.”

  Devlin ran a hand over his chin and cut Phineas a lethal stare. “Are you sure you don’t mean to say she deserves better than me?”

  “No, of course not.” Phineas appeared affronted with the suggestion. “Just think about your actions for a change. You’re accustomed to living life as if tomorrow doesn’t matter. Have a care for Alexandra and her reputation. You might not adhere to what society deems respectable, but I’d bet my last pence your ward does.”

  Devlin grabbed the brandy he’d poured earlier and downed it in one swallow. Phineas might be right, but he couldn’t walk away from his feelings and burying them only made everything worse. He set his glass down, undecided how to proceed. “I don’t know. Still, can I count on you, Phin?”

  His friend’s silent nod served as affirmation.

  It was the devil’s own timing when a moment later Reeston entered with a package.

  Alexandra’s eyes lit with joy as she opened the delivery to reveal a small book of sonnets. Julia appeared entranced by the scene.

  Phineas nudged him on the shoulder and leaned in for a conspiring whisper. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you? Flowers yesterday, love poems today. She hasn’t even met the estimable Lord Bickerstaffe. What’s the rush?”

  “Look at her. Do you see the fetching dimple in her right cheek? Only comes out when she is truly happy. That’s why.” Devlin reached for a peppermint from a crystal bowl on his desk and popped it into his mouth.

  “I do understand, but eventually she is going to get a little suspicious if Bickerstaffe never shows. What are you going to do then?”

  “I haven’t worked out all the details, but I will. Now wait and be quiet. I want to see what happens when she opens the card.”

  The men watched the two ladies giggle over the calling card and then Alexandra glanced in his direction. Her eyes twinkled with delight and he refused to break the moment. Did she have any idea how bewitching he found her? Good lord, he sounded like a sotted fool.

  “What does Lord Bickerstaffe have to say?” Devlin strove for nonchalance, but he wasn’t sure he carried it off.

  “A proper lady does not share her correspondence,” Alexandra protested. “But I will tell you, it is very romantic.” She tucked the card into the envelope and slipped the note into the pocket of her day gown.

  The men moved closer to the ladies, and Phineas leaned into Devlin as he passed. “I told you she adhered to convention.”

  Devlin promptly ignored him.

  “Any word of when he’ll return from his business trip? Any hint as to when he’ll call?” Why was he tempting the fates? Only he knew the answers to his questions and he hadn’t solved any of the problems yet.

  “No, but he confessed it is hard for him to hold a thought without the memory of my image ruining his concentration.” Alexandra smile turned wistful as she uttered the soft-spoken words.

  “It sounds as though he’s addle-brained.” Devlin punctuated the reply with a chuckle.

  “Don’t undermine Lord Bickerstaffe just because you cannot appreciate the sentiment. I think it’s very romantic.” Julia’s voice went gleeful as she looped her arm through Alexandra’s. “Perhaps we should invite him to a small get-together.”

  Devlin eyed Phineas with Julia’s last suggestion. “No, I don’t think that’s a very good idea. We’ve never met the man. All we know is that he likes to send expensive gifts and has impeccable taste in flowers.”

  Lexi offered him a queer look with his last statement.

  “I do hope I make his acquaintance soon. All this anticipation is thrilling, but I’d like to have a face to match with the name.” Lexi tapped her finger against her chin. Devlin didn’t miss the action. He’d like to bite that little chin.

  “I hope he is handsome.”

  Julia’s unforeseen comments complicated things. Devlin eyed Lexi as she considered the thought.

  “Yes, tall, dark and handsome. I’ve never found myself overly interested in fair-haired gentlemen.” Alexandra’s voice held a whimsical quality and the whole room paid attention. Except Phineas. He glanced in a nearby mirror and checked his hair.

  “And well formed.” Julia giggled as she spoke.

  “Oh yes, well formed,” Lexi agreed. “Not too lean, yet strong, with a muscular build to embrace a woman gently, but still allow her to feel safe within his arms.”

  Devlin repositioned himself on the corner of the desk. Phineas curled his arm once or twice and assessed his reflection.

  “It would be lovely if he possessed a clever sense of humour. I’ve always appreciated a good jest.”

  Devlin viewed Lexi in her reminiscent pose. Was she thinking of anyone in particular? She never spoke of her past and the only kissing to which she laid claim belonged to Just Henry. His lips quirked with the memory of how she’d locked him out of the window. She’d been so pleased with herself but he’d only had to run across the roof to the other side of the house and drop to the master bedroom balcony.

  “If you ask me, it sounds like you’ve described a fantastic order. Let’s hope the elusive Lord Bickerstaffe does not disappoint.” Devlin pushed away from the desk and rang the bell pull for Reeston.

  Phineas fussed a bit longer in the mirror and then turned to the room with an absentminded answer. “If you ask me, it sounds as if you’ve describ
ed Devlin.”

  The room fell silent until they all broke into laughter. Phineas covered his faux pas with a few Bickerstaffe jibes and Devlin forged forward with a swift change of subject, anxious to drop the entire matter.

  It neared midnight when he returned from his ride on Orion. Evening night refreshed the fatigue of the day and as he walked towards the house from the stables, he chose the most circuitous route around the east wing. His steps slowed as he reached the estate. Above him the chamber windows where Alexandra now resided were dark and silent. He had ordered a few footmen to move her things from the west wing and assumed Lexi and Tillie were settled in by now. A wry smile dared to surface. The third-floor room was situated across from his bedchamber and while at first he hesitated in having her reside in the same hallway, concerned his nightly episodes would cause a problem; he hadn’t a tremor in almost two weeks.

  Now, alone in the darkness, he viewed the French doors that led to the sitting area of Lexi’s new rooms. This area of the house faced the garden and a tall trellis, thick with multi-coloured roses, climbed the wall from the earth to the balcony of her chambers. The effect was charming. One he surmised his mother had designed.

  Shallow light cast a misty glow through the terrace doors but no one appeared visible. Was Lexi asleep? The ready image of her reclined in bed, her golden hair fanned across the pillows, tightened his body with yearning. Perhaps she was as restless as he? Would she pass the hours reading, sketching … daydreaming of Bickerstaffe? He stifled a ready chuckle and reprimanded his foolish behaviour. What he wouldn’t do to be Bickerstaffe for one evening. It was an odd situation when a man found himself jealous of himself.

  He blew out a resigning breath. There was nothing for it. He wanted her. He ached for her. Just one glimpse, this evening, under the stars. With the same impulsivity that served as attribute and flaw, he bent to the ground and gathered a handful of gravel from the base of the trellis. He tossed it with precise aim against the glass doors of the balcony and waited.