Duke of Darkness

by Anabelle Bryant

  Devlin viewed the card with a flick of his eyes then blindly pushed the salver aside. “I do not recognize the name. Send him away. I have no wish for visitors.”

  He reassembled the pages on his desk and dismissed Reeston as if consumed by work, but he fooled no one. He suffered as equal a distraction as she, staring at the same page for more than half an hour.

  “The gentlemen state it is a matter of extreme urgency, Your Grace. If I may overstep my bounds, they are insistent upon your attendance.”

  Devlin rose from the desk, sweeping the papers to the side with a strong brush of his hand and turning his angered gaze on Reeston. “Then by all means, tell Mr. Addington your master is not in residence or I no longer reside here. Tell him whatever you bloody well like.”

  Alexandra gasped. It couldn’t be.

  Reeston nodded his head and retreated, but as he passed, she stayed him with a hand to his arm.

  “If I may?”

  “Yes, milady?”

  “Is the gentleman tall, of medium build, with light brown hair and the same light brown eyes?”

  Her detailed description captured Devlin’s attention.

  “I believe so.”

  “And is he travelling with another gentleman? A shorter, older man with greying hair and perhaps a little too much weight for his frame?”

  “Milady? Are these gentlemen of your acquaintance?”

  She dropped her hand from Reeston’s arm, certain the elderly butler caught the look of alarm as it flashed across her face. She didn’t venture a glance at Devlin, although she knew he stood motionless on the opposite side of the room.

  “Yes. You could say that.” She took a fortifying breath and met the butler’s eyes before she turned to leave the room. “Please tell my father and Mr. Addington I will be there to greet them shortly.”

  It could only be described as chaos, the scene that unravelled after her announcement. She rushed from the room and into the hallway. Devlin followed behind, the tips of his boots nipping the back of her slippers and catching her skirts. Reeston struggled to keep pace. As was the way of things, Just Henry burst from the back kitchen and rushed towards the front hall in a blur of white tail and consistent barking.

  Things spiralled out of control. Her father moved forward with a purposeful yank on Alexandra’s arm meant to bring her forward as he berated her selfish disappearance. Addington was there too. His words tumbled from his lips amidst the cacophony of noise. He captured her hand as she was dragged to her father’s side. She found herself held on both right and left. Able to do little else, Just Henry launched himself towards Addington’s left calf. He swatted in annoyance at the animal, his curse of frustration resounding in the foyer.

  Amidst all the commotion, the knocker fell twice and Reeston opened the door to admit Phineas, confused by the scene in the main hall.

  “Silence.” Devlin’s voice rose above the din.

  His one word achieved everything the five adults and one small dog had failed to accomplish.

  “It would appear …”

  Alexandra noted his ducal tone. Authoritarian. A lofty voice of control and command. Pride swelled in her chest and she pulled her arms in an attempt to reclaim her freedom.

  “There are many explanations to be heard, but they cannot be heard all at once.” Devlin sent a pointed glare in Reeston’s direction and shot another at Phin.

  Alexandra extricated herself and the butler ushered the newly arrived guests to the blue parlour. A maid appeared to claim Just Henry and Phineas took the stairs two at a time aimed at Devlin’s study. In a matter of minutes, the hallway stood quiet and empty aside from the two of them. She cast Devlin a glance from below her lashes, anxious to read his thoughts, but as usual his eyes were shuttered, all emotion locked deep inside.

  He took a step, impeded her path, and reached for her, his fingertips raising her chin. They stared at each other, a long, interminable moment. What did he search for? He need only ask. She had nothing to hide and everything to offer.

  “What is this about, Lexi?”

  “I don’t know how they found me.”

  Her response was answer enough. He moved aside to walk towards the parlour where the guests awaited, but something gave him pause and he peered over his shoulder with narrowed eyes as if attempting to read her mind or decipher her heart. Without another word, he continued down the hall.

  They entered and sat, her father and Addington on the opposing sofa from Alexandra, and Devlin behind his mahogany desk.

  “Perhaps now we can restore a modicum of order to resolve this situation.” Devlin eyed the three people seated before him. His manners of cordial reserve echoed his cold and indifferent words.

  And then all three participants spoke at once. Alexandra sprang from her seat to command attention, and her voice rose above everyone but no understanding came from the cacophony of voices that vied to be heard simultaneously.

  Devlin brought his palm down on the desktop. Immediate silence enveloped the room.

  “One at a time.” He growled the command.

  A muscle ticked in the side of his jaw and she reclaimed her chair, curious of his anger.

  “You requested my attention.” Devlin leaned forward. “If you will.”

  Her father needed no encouragement. He peered in her direction, anger and disappointment riddled across his face.

  “My daughter left home over two years ago. I woke up one day and she was gone. And then four days ago, we received this letter.” Her father produced a single page.

  She shot a panicked glance in Devlin’s direction, but he quieted her objection with a raised palm. He accepted the piece of foolscap offered and ran his eyes over the contents. Then he folded and placed it inside his waistcoat pocket.

  “That is not written in my hand. I did not send it to you.” She stood up with an angered flourish, but at Devlin’s pointed stare she once again took her seat.

  Her father continued. “The letter urged us to come at once, and so here we are. I had no idea where Alexandra resided, but it is highly improper for my daughter to be here without the supervision of a chaperone. It is all for naught, as she is promised to Henry.” With the last comment, her father slapped Henry on the arm with the back of his hand. Henry moved to obey the oblique command and took the empty seat on the settee beside her. No one acknowledged her angered squeak of protest.

  “Lady Alexandra, I thought I had lost you. You left without word.”

  “Henry, please,” she hissed through clenched teeth. Devlin sat at his desk. His eyes blazed. She offered him a slight shrug of the shoulder, but he made no indication he saw it.

  “Tell her how you feel, Henry. Say what we discussed during the carriage ride.” Her father moved to stand behind the settee as if to supervise.

  Familiar feelings of hopelessness and lost control threatened to shake her resolve. She turned towards Henry and his intent stare unnerved her. Had her father coached him? Would he jump up, grab her, toss her over his shoulder, and run from the room? Her eyes darted to the open doors.

  “Henry needs to speak and you will listen, Daughter. I do not know why you won’t accept your future. All this nonsense about love has wasted time and energy.”

  The lack of logic in the comment caused Devlin to eye her father with a raised brow.

  “Has anything changed, Father? If Henry means to ask the same question, then you have epitomized the reason I ran from you and left my home.” She stood and backed away, unwilling to keep her person within his reach. Henry was handsome enough and kind as well, but the most important fact remained: she didn’t love him and refused to build a future on her father’s wishes instead of her own. She turned in Devlin’s direction and spoke in a softer voice laced with regret and insistence. “This is why I chose not to be found.”

  Devlin’s expression did not change and he made no inclination upon hearing her words. He rang for Reeston and instructed everyone to pay heed as there would be no decision until eve
rything sorted out.

  Alexandra drew a measured breath and steadied her emotions. If the note hadn’t come from her, then who had written it? Was Devlin so desperate to be rid of her that he’d investigated her past? He rarely asked about her life before The Willows. She believed it a show of respect, as reluctant as he concerning his own history, but would he prove as manipulative to pursue answers without her knowledge? Her eyes sought his in disappointment and question, but his back was to her and she could not know.

  “Well then, explain why you have shown up at my residence. What are your expectations of my ward?” Devlin’s order cut through the thick tension in the room. He spoke with the ducal voice that dared the recipient to defy him. The deep timbre resounded within her and evoked feelings of possession and security. Alexandra held on to each syllable with a shred of hope.

  “Your Grace, I beg your pardon, but I do not understand. You speak of Alexandra as if she is your responsibility. I am her father. Truly, I know what lies in her best interest.”

  Alexandra cleared her throat and drew everyone’s attention. Reeston chose that moment to enter, a silver tea set in his hands. He walked to the sideboard to pour and serve. When the service completed, he lingered in the periphery of the room.

  Devlin replied, his tone as matter-of-fact as she’d ever heard him. “Lady Alexandra was given into my care by bequest of my aunt’s will. Your daughter served as her companion for the last two years of her life, and if I am to understand, my aunt believed Alexandra to have no family and therefore require a guardian. Upon her death, the responsibility fell to me. It has created the unusual conditions of the circumstances we face together now.”

  “Regardless, it seems simple to resolve.” Her father finished his tea and placed the cup in the saucer. “Your guardianship is unnecessary. My daughter is to wed Addington.”

  At the conclusion of her father’s comments, Henry reached for her hands and she stayed him with an intense glare. “No. You tried two years ago to force me into this marriage because it is what you want, but I will not allow it.”

  “Allow it? You overstep your bounds. You are fortunate Henry will still have you after your disappearance two years ago and whatever else you’ve been doing here.” He eyed Devlin, who took no notice of the insult. He remained behind his desk, the picture of indifference, drumming his fingers against the marble desktop.

  When he pivoted without warning, he captured everyone’s attention.

  “Do you love him?” Devlin’s voice rang across the length of the room.

  “Love him?” She almost laughed, and instead sent her father a venomous stare. Then gentling her expression, she turned towards Addington. “My father and Henry are too enamoured of each other and the common interests they share to allow my insignificant feelings to intrude. They scheme this marriage against my wishes. I hold no feelings other than friendship for Addington. My father wishes to obtain the son he never had.”

  “Over time we would come to care for one another.” It was the first time she heard Henry speak so forthright. “You are so lovely. I have no objections.”

  Caught unaware by his candid confession, she didn’t react when he captured her hands in a tight grasp, folding his fingers around hers and the weight of everyone’s attention caused her heart to pound in her chest. This was not what she wanted. A wave of panic joined the triple beat of her pulse. Yet when she dared a glance in Devlin’s direction, he did not match her eyes. Instead he stared, fixed on where Henry held her hands enveloped within his.

  “I kissed you, Alexandra. It means something.”

  Addington refused to release her hands no matter how she tugged.

  “It was just a kiss, Henry. It held no significance.” She spared him a fleeting glance as she managed to break free.

  “It was a promise.”

  How rude of him to press the point. Alexandra waved away the compliment. “No, kisses aren’t promises.” Her words were meant for Addington, but her eyes never left Devlin. His expression remained unreadable.

  “And I gave you Henry.”

  “You named your dog after him?” Devlin viewed Addington as if he were an odious man, then turned to her, his expression speculative anger.

  “It was a gift, nothing more; albeit a gift named after the giver by the giver should fall into another category altogether.” She refused to bow to their wishes. Regardless of what became of her relationship with Devlin, she would never return to Brentwood. She moved towards the door and caught her father’s attention.

  “Have a care for your reputation, Daughter. Now gather your things. We are leaving at once. I am your father, you will listen to me.” Her father spoke as if his commands were to be followed without question, each word matched by the strides that brought them closer.

  Henry returned to her side. He touched her arm to gain her attention and she turned to him with reluctance.

  “Listen to your father, Alexandra. I know this may not follow your wishes, but a life with me will prove pleasant enough.”

  She regretted refusing Henry again. He was a good man and deserved someone who would not repeatedly reject his suit. Her father snapped his fingers with impatience. Her emotions towards her father were a different matter altogether. “Listen to my father? He wishes to thrust me into a marriage I do not want, in order to gain a hunting partner.” Her voice trembled and she despised the show of emotion. She muttered an apology and skirted around Henry to confront her father across the room.

  He faced his daughter, resolute in his decision. “I have made up my mind and Henry will be your husband. You will be safe, settled and residing nearby your childhood home. There is nothing more to discuss. This is the man I choose for you.”

  “No, this is the man you wish was your son. There is a huge difference.” She fought her emotions with every ounce of strength. She would not allow her father to break her spirit or bend her will. She would run away again if necessary.

  “Alexandra.” Henry addressed her with an assertive tone. “You should not speak to your father in that manner. He has your best interest in mind.”

  He certainly wasn’t considering her happiness, her dreams and desire to marry someone she loved, but Alexandra was too angry to readily form words in return.

  And then Devlin was standing and she wondered at the twinkle in his eye as he swept the room with a cursory glance.

  “It would appear Alexandra does not wish to leave with you and therefore I cannot allow it. She has been happy in residence at Kenley Manor.” Devlin had contributed little to their conversation. Now he strode towards them as if with every step he calculated his next words.

  His defence piqued her father’s attention. “Do you mean to imply you would have my daughter reside here without a chaperone?”

  Her father possessed a shrewd eye. He assessed the situation to discern his advantage and how he’d gain the outcome he desired.

  “You are mistaken. Your daughter, my ward, has just arrived to Kenley Manor. Was it not explained amply in the letter?”

  His question confirmed her worst suspicion and she backed away from him as a dull pain seized her heart. Devlin had summoned her father; he had written the letter. How had he known? It made little sense, but now as he manipulated her future in as cold and uncaring manner as her father, she abhorred him.

  “Two weeks, two months, two years, if she has dwelled under this roof without a chaperone, there is a problem. I can solve it with ease. Henry will marry her regardless of what improprieties have occurred.”

  “Father, please stop. Nothing untoward has happened.” She spun and her skirts swirled around her ankles in a tangle, much like the mess of decisions being made about her future. She launched at him with angered words, the only defence in her control. “I don’t want to marry Henry. I’m sorry.” Alexandra gestured in his direction, her emotions high. “Please take your leave.”

  “Alexandra has a fine chaperone.” Devlin aimed his words at Reeston. “Have you located Lady Len
ore? Introductions are in order.”

  Alexandra’s brows lowered in confusion, but Devlin spared her not a glance.

  Her father remained undeterred. “There’s no good reason why you shouldn’t marry Henry. This disagreeable attitude is so unlike you.” Her father moved beside her and captured her arm in a firm grasp. “Now gather your things. We leave within the hour.”

  “No good reason? I feel nothing for him.” She strained against his hold and wrenched her arm free. Her eyes shot to Henry’s in apology of her blunt statement. “I refuse to marry without love. That is the reason I left two years ago. Do you think I would forsake you and my home if I wasn’t forced to my last resort? How can you give me away without a thought for my feelings?”

  An interminable silence blanketed the room. Reeston cleared his throat and replied without missing a beat. “If I may be so bold, have you forgotten about Lord Bickerstaffe?”

  “Bickerstaffe, Reeston?”

  Alexandra detected a trace of humour in Devlin’s response. He may view it all as a game, but her future hung in the balance with every decision made and ugly word muttered.

  “Yes, Your Grace. Lord Bickerstaffe entered the hall amongst the chaos earlier. Have you forgotten he asked your permission to court Lady Alexandra? How he expressed his desire for her hand in marriage? He waits in your study now anxious to speak to you. Perhaps you should join him there.”

  It was the most she’d heard Reeston speak at one interval and she thought she understood, or at least partly comprehended, the butler’s good intentions, but Devlin would have to play the part. Good thing, his wit proved as sharp as his temper.

  “Bickerstaffe, yes. Let me see to him. If you will excuse me, Gentlemen, I’ll return shortly.” Devlin left the parlour behind Reeston.

  “Does he always take counsel from his butler?” Her father exhaled in frustration and dropped into a chair.

  “He is a very unconventional duke, Father.” Weary of the argument, Alexandra also sat. Henry remained standing, and with the fear he might again approach in a bid to gain her favour, she popped from her chair and strode to a far window. Her mind whirled in a desperate attempt to keep her emotions at bay and sort out the chaos of events unfolding at lightning’s pace. Would Devlin understand her plea? Her father had every right to take her against her will. He would return her to Brentwood and see her married to Henry in less than twenty-four hours if an effective plan did not extricate her from the mess. A sharp stab of disappointment punctuated the realization. How could her father behave with such callous insensitivity? Appealing to his affection or good sense made no difference.