Duke of Darkness

by Anabelle Bryant

  “I’m listening,” Phineas replied without pause. When Devlin didn’t immediately begin, he tapped him on the kneecap impatiently.

  “Hasselby approached me at his social last month. We met in his study for a brief conversation.”

  “What could Hasselby possibly need to impart that would keep him holed up in his office for a discussion during his own social event?” Phineas’s expression turned incredulous.

  “He claims to have information to share about my parents’ demise.” Devlin hauled in a long breath.

  “Good lord, why didn’t he come forward sooner? That’s easily twenty years ago.”

  “I believe him when he states he regrets his past decisions and I accept why he’s vacillated. As a member of the peerage, he chose to protect his own. Other than that, he didn’t offer me any details and suggested I return at a later date to pursue the matter. When I think of how many enquiries I’ve made over the years, it is hard to fathom the answers I sought were accessible through Hasselby.”

  “Are you going back?”

  “I’m not sure.” The words cut through the air with finality even though they determined little. “It was a long time ago, and I am happy now. I’m not sure I wish to drag hurtful stories to the forefront. Especially if I am attempting to reorder my life for Lexi’s sake.”

  “But you must be curious. You should pursue it, Dev. And then you can put it to rest. There’s something you should do for Lexi’s sake. Perhaps the night tremors will stop as well.” Phineas appeared resolute in his advice.

  “I don’t experience them with Lexi by my side.”

  Phin dismissed the comment with an indolent grin. “That’s not the point. She won’t always be lying beside you.”

  “Why the hell not?” Devlin growled. If Phin thought for a heartbeat that he and Lexi would adopt the formal standard of separate sleeping chambers, then it was his friend who was madder than a March hare, not he.

  Phineas shrugged his question off. “What do you know about the whole thing anyway? From what you’ve ever revealed to me, it seems very little. Wasn’t Reeston around then? Haven’t you discussed it with him?”

  “One question at a time. I’m not up for interrogation.” Devlin wandered to his golf bag. He picked up a ball and tossed it into the air. “Over the years, I haven’t learned much. Just what Aunt Min or Reeston told me when I was a child. They chose not to sit around the tea table and share stories of my opiate-addicted father or my mother’s despair.” He tried to sound flippant but no doubt his friend knew better. Thinking about the past was painful and he had long ago abandoned that path. “Reeston was already in employ, as well as Cook, when Aunt Min set up acceptable living conditions for me. They are the only two servants who remain today. I suspect the estate suffered considerably while my father philandered. Aunt Min must have cleaned the house of the other servant staff. She wouldn’t want old memories or further gossip to pervade the already distorted Wharncliffe heritage. She did an excellent job of protecting me and the estate. I never remember a time when Kenley Manor was not run efficiently or maintained with excellence. Even as a child, I have clear memories of such.” He caught the ball in his hand a final time and dropped it into his golf bag.

  “Well, I suppose it is up to you and how much of the past you really want to know. But you are making a lot of changes around here. You should give it considerable thought.” Phineas stood and changed the subject just as readily. “So tomorrow, at noon, the festivities begin. I can hardly wait. Julia is looking forward to it. She really hasn’t stopped talking about it, to tell you the truth.”

  “Really?” Devlin eyed his friend, his lids narrowed with curiosity. “Why is that?”

  “I think she invited some new beau to accompany her. The announcement of your engagement might have done the trick to send her looking in the direction of a marriage candidate. Ladies enjoy talking about weddings and my sister will relish helping Lexi plan for the day as if thinking of her own.”

  Phineas tapped Devlin on the shoulder. “And just think if she finds some other gentleman to pay her attention, we might finally be rid of the tag-along.” He grinned from ear to ear. “Who could have ever imagined such a speedy resolution?” He nodded in self-congratulation.

  Phineas left soon after and Devlin remained in his study, his thoughts heavy with all they’d discussed. Weighty decisions needed to be made concerning the secrets hidden in the past. But would Hasselby’s information be worth the cost of reliving the censure?

  He walked to the window and scanned the garden. Lexi was gone. He could hardly believe the turn of events, like falling dominoes in a line, leading the two of them to each other. He wouldn’t allow anything to ruin the bond they’d created and the expectations their future held. Throughout his entire life, choices had been crucial, the results always fragile. Why tempt the fates and invite malice into this new beginning with Lexi. It was his one chance at happiness and he’d be damned if anyone or anything interfered.

  He turned from the window anxious to find Lexi. Just the thought of her set his blood humming in his veins. She was quite the little temptress, too. Last night he’d entered his bedroom to find her perched atop the bed, adorned only in blue velvet ribbon. It was the most enticing and delicious gift he’d ever unwrapped.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It was foolish to plan a harvest party in October. No one with any good sense would trust the weather and Devlin growled at the looming rain clouds as they blocked the paltry sunlight straining to emerge this morning. Lexi flittered about the manor, smiling with instructions and attending to every detail. She would be a most proficient duchess. Of that he had no doubt.

  But the weather presented a different story and remained beyond his control. He hoped it would hold because he did not wish to see Alexandra disappointed. He gazed out of the window and contemplated the fact. Despite his trepidation, the clouds turned from white to grey as a low shadow of doom hunkered low on the horizon.

  This was a tentative extension into society. They expected fifty guests for entertainment on the back lawn and, later, dinner and dancing in the manor house. An elaborate menu had been prepared and while it presented extra work for Cook, she’d seemed eager to suggest specialties of petite lobster tails in butter sauce and salmon with capers to accompany more traditional chicken and beef dishes. Several preparations of vegetables, from mashed turnips to asparagus quiche, were also to be presented, along with brown onion soup and mushroom pastry. Devlin had a direct say in the dessert offerings, suggesting almond and raisin tarts, and pear cake.

  Outside, tables were set with neatly folded linens. Centrepieces of amber and russet mums filled crystal vases to overflow. A slated area had been assembled for parlour games, including London Bridge, Shuttlecock and Cup and Ball. For the more ambitious, guests could play shuffleboard, lawn bowling or stroll the gardens. That was, if the rain did not spoil their plans.

  Still he couldn’t remember a time when the house appeared more festive. Silver shone like radiant sunshine, flowers filled every nook, rugs were freshly beaten and furniture rearranged. He grinned now with the flurry of the undertaking, having caught Lexi more than once, in stern direction of a footman as he adjusted a table’s position or replaced candles with fresh sticks.

  And the west wing had reached completion, the smell of new paint and carpeting an immediate reminder that something recent and unexpected had occurred were anyone to wander down the long hallway. His life had altered for the better and the intrusive realization forced him to reflect on the news Hasselby wished to impart; the undercurrent of his indecision a harbinger of any other decision he dared to make.

  Last night, as he lay in bed with Lexi snuggled at his side, he affirmed the past should remain where it was, buried in Wharncliffe history. Along with the man he once was and the lifestyle he once kept. He rather preferred himself now; content in his own skin with Lexi tightly nestled beside him. But he did not know if his decision was based on solid reasoning.r />
  As if an answer to a prayer, Lexi entered the room. Just Henry yipped at her slippers as she crossed to greet him with a brilliant smile and a lingering kiss.

  “Good morning, love. The heavens are going to play havoc with our plans.” He tempered his words. “Have you looked out of the window yet?” He did not wish to see her disappointment, but he could never turn from her, so he watched as she slanted a look outside and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

  “The rain will ruin our party. It won’t be very enjoyable to be crowded in the parlour with fifty people who planned to picnic, play sport and fish.”

  “I feel the same way. I detest parlour games.” And then, as if an afterthought, “Unless the parlour is ours alone …” He threaded his fingers through her hair and knocked the pins out in a motion he’d quickly mastered. “And the game is played with expert skill.” He caught the gleam in her crystalline eyes and wondered for the hundredth time how he could possibly be so lucky. He spared not another breath on the thought and leaned into her ready lips for a deep, leisurely kiss.

  Just Henry vaulted against his legs and vied for attention.

  “You should put Just Henry in the back kitchen, love.” Devlin nuzzled the side of her neck, his murmur a heated whisper against her skin. “Or better yet, the pantry. It will be a busy day in the kitchens and Cook does not need the little troublemaker underfoot.”

  Her head fall back to allow him better access. “Mmm.” She managed in agreement.

  “I am the envy of every man on this planet.” He slid one hand from her waist to her bodice and hooked a finger in her neckline just low enough to brush against her in an intimate caress. His other hand found her bottom and gave a little swat.

  “Devlin!”

  “Your protest is all for show.” His duchess would never object. They were equally matched in the bedroom, in ardour, in all ways. “Off with you, then.” He gave her another pat and pretended to dismiss her. “You are far too tempting to have standing in front of me. And take care of that loud little nuisance.”

  Just Henry yipped his objection to the insult.

  “I will meet you upstairs shortly. I suppose we will have to dress soon for the arrival of our guests. Of course, we will first have to undress …” He let the end of his sentence linger and winked as Lexi left the room with a kiss blown over her shoulder.

  Everyone had arrived, refreshments were served, and still the weather held. Alexandra sent a thankful vow to the heavens. If she could just get through the afternoon without the threat of rain becoming an actuality, she would be for ever grateful. She hadn’t an opportunity to talk to many guests, but she made her way across the lawns and perused the activities with great interest. Several guests had meandered down to the pond, boasting the cloudy weather brought the best fish to the surface. Phineas seemed anxious to cast his line. Alexandra smiled with the knowledge he might finally achieve his goal.

  Other guests played shuffleboard, the cues and pucks clacking against each other on the long wooden surface of the board. A gentleman cheered as his teammate scored at the other end of the court, a good forty feet away. The party seemed a rousing success. No one in attendance could scorn Devlin after the fine enjoyment of the afternoon, stormy clouds or not. Thunder sounded in the distance as if to echo the sentiment or assert itself, she did not know.

  She shivered with private joy at the announcement Devlin would make at the dinner party later this evening. She pictured him in his formal wear, tailored to perfection, when he raised his champagne glass and asked for salutations as they made known their intentions. A thrilling shiver at the secret bound tightly in her heart added to the excitement of the day. How enthralling to know the news would become public knowledge. It was so much more than just their betrothal. It was a step towards Devlin’s future. He’d withdrawn from the society that shunned him for so long, it seemed right he reenter with a joyous proclamation and a celebrant heart.

  She savoured the thrill and anticipation. Where was her intended anyway? Devlin kept Phineas company, she guessed. She turned to make way when Lord Hasselby approached, his demeanour solemn.

  “Lady Alexandra, may I be one of the first to offer congratulations.”

  The older man clasped her hand and bowed to place a polite kiss on her glove. He smiled, a tentative expression at best.

  “Lord Hasselby, and thank you for coming. This may only be a small foray into society, but His Grace and I are very pleased at the turn-out.” She bit her tongue before sharing her enthusiasm for the bright future and how she held confidence the ton would change their dour outlook over time. Some things were better left unsaid.

  “Yes, I mean to talk to Wharncliffe concerning the very subject. Of course today would not be the time, but perhaps in the near future.”

  Hasselby didn’t say more. Alexandra watched him fade into the crowd, a puzzled expression twisting her former smile. Twice now Hasselby had implied he needed to speak to Devlin. What news could he mean to impart? She deliberated the conundrum as she was swept up from behind. Devlin captured her in his arms, his lips pressed to her ear to whisper.

  “What did he want?”

  She did not miss the guarded tone of his question, as if he sought to know the answer, but dreaded hearing the result. She twisted within his embrace and took a little step backwards. Her eyes darted to every guest in the general area. “This is not proper.” She tried unsuccessfully to extricate herself from the circle of his embrace and watched his grin turn devilish.

  “Why not? You are to be my wife.”

  Even though she knew it to be true, hearing him say the words never failed to make her heart tremble. She smiled and answered his whisper. “I know.”

  He freed her with a chuckle, but he did not drop his eyes and when her silence continued, one dark brow arched in expectation of her answer.

  “Lord Hasselby wishes to speak to you. He offered his congratulations and implied that he would pay you a call soon. That is all. He didn’t say more.” She lifted her shoulder in a show of confusion.

  He didn’t remark on the news and his face gave nothing away. Then he smiled.

  “Let’s enjoy our party. We are the guests of honour. I will concern myself with Hasselby some other day. Today, I have eyes only for you.”

  “That may be true, but as hostess of this party it is my duty to circulate. You would have me secreted up in our bedchamber, were I to allow you.” Her adoring tone confessed she’d willingly acquiesce.

  “You’ve discovered my ploy.” He winked, a chuckle dancing in the depths of his obsidian gaze.

  “You best find your way to the wishing-well pond. We’ll never hear the end of Phin’s tale if you’re not there to verify he’s caught a minnow.”

  He smiled. A rare wonderful smile. “Correct once again, my lovely duchess.” He reached for her, but she evaded his grasp, the motion sending her backwards into a servant’s tray of champagne. Her skirt was drenched in the sweet liquor faster than she could avoid the mishap.

  “I’ll need to change.” Her laughter eviscerated any dismay.

  “Love, I’m sorry.” His smile dropped away, replaced by regret and concern.

  “Don’t give it another thought.” She offered him a grin, then stepped around the servant clearing the last of the fallen glassware and hurried towards the house.

  Devlin had almost reached the pond when better sense prevailed and he decided to return to the manor. Remorse flogged his conscience, no matter Lexi offered him immediate forgiveness. Besides, if she were changing her gown, they’d be guaranteed a private moment. Or more. A kiss, long overdue. It was one of the things he despised most about parties and social events. It prevented a man from fondling his soon-to-be wife whenever the fancy struck him. Lost in romantic thought, he didn’t immediately notice the small commotion on the front lawn. As he made his way towards the guests, their stare fixated on the roof of the estate. His brisk strides broke into a run as the first shout breached the air.

 
“Fire!”

  Riotous action consumed him on all sides. He’d accomplished the lawn and neared the front door as Julia veered through his peripheral vision.

  “Where’s Lexi?” He grasped her shoulders and gave a small shake. She appeared frantic, her eyes wide and lips pressed tight.

  “The house is on fire.”

  “Where’s Lexi, Julia?” His voice, a tight demand, grabbed her attention as commotion consumed the lawn. He waited, frantic for her reply.

  Women screamed and men barked orders around him. A few guests attempted to assemble a water brigade from the pond, but the distance was too far to cover reasonably. He didn’t care about the house. He needed to know that Lexi was safe. He glanced towards the manor. Flames whipped from her upstairs bedchamber window, the rose trellis aflame in a pattern of fire and lace. There’d be nowhere for her to go. The trellis was unreliable and now, would serve to spread fire down the side of the estate.

  His eyes darted to Julia, still held captive in his grasp. He loosened his hold on her shoulders. “Is Alexandra in the house? Did you see her?” If he couldn’t elicit an answer soon, he would go inside to search. He wasn’t about to lose Lexi now when he’d finally found her to love.

  “She went in to change her clothes. She was chasing after Henry.”

  Julia spoke on a broken sob and Devlin pushed her aside, his strides a frantic run towards the back of the estate. He burst around the corner to see Cook holding the little dog and Lexi nowhere in sight. His eyes scanned the field in a desperate plea. Lightning flashed through the sky and Henry barked in response.

  Devlin charged through the back door as Cook shouted after him to stop. The lower floors were still without fire, although smoke filled every corridor. A violent cough ripped through his chest as he choked back the acrid smell of burned carpet. He took the hallway stairs two at a time, his eyes wide at the ferocity of flames devouring the third landing. Without hesitation, he vaulted over the banister and landed against the far side wall. Using furniture as stepping stones, he reached Lexi’s bedchamber. The doors hung open and fire licked up the four walls, consuming the wall coverings and filled the air with black smoke. His eyes stung. He squinted against the glare of the flames and biting sting of heavy air. Holding his breath, he moved past, desperate to reach his chambers in hope he’d find her there. His body, tense with the effort to avoid the flames, manoeuvred the hallway. Then, just as he passed the parlour, a flash of brightness, the lightning illuminated the sitting room for a flicker, a fleeting second.