The Devil's Own

by Liana Lefey

  Mary felt all the blood leave her head, and the room went dim.

  The next thing she knew, hands grasped her arms and were easing her into a chair. “What am I to do?” she gasped, her upset threatening to make her violently ill.

  Her father’s hand, warm and solid, came to rest on her shoulder. “We’ll hire people to search for him. We’ll find him, Mary. Never you fear.”

  A bark of soggy laughter burst from her mouth. “I’m nearly two months gone with child, Papa. What if he cannot be found? My baby will be born a bastard.” She buried her face in her hands and tried to muffle her sobs. Everything had gone horribly wrong. So much for choices…

  “No, Miss Tomblin, it won’t,” said Reverend Wayward. “Because I’ll marry you. If you’ll have me.”

  Her head snapped up and she stared at him in disbelief. “But you despise me!”

  Again, remorse filled his face. “I truly don’t,” he said, sinking down beside her chair. “I was simply afraid. And now I see how that fear led me to make an appalling mistake. One that has caused you terrible pain. This is my fault. Please, if we cannot find my brother in time, let me make it right.”

  She flinched as he took up one of her hands between his own. How strange it was, looking into this agonizingly familiar face and knowing it belonged to a different man than the one who’d made love to her upstairs. They looked so alike! Yet, now that she observed him more closely, she saw there were tiny differences. The few extra lines at the corners of Reverend Wayward’s eyes spoke of laughter his twin hadn’t voiced. Now they held a look of such sorrowful remorse that she could hardly stand it.

  Devlin Wayward, wherever he was, was nothing like this man. According to his own flesh and blood, he was an unmitigated rakehell. I was such a fool…

  “I can give you the security of a name for you and your child,” the reverend was saying. “I swear no one will ever know I’m not the babe’s true father. And I’ll be a good husband to you. My living, should I be allowed to keep it,” he added, glancing at her father, “is humble, but you will never want for security. And…” He flushed anew and swallowed hard. “Know that if you desire ours to be a marriage in name only, I will of course abide by your wishes. In addition to my own, this house possesses five other bedchambers. I’ll never impose upon you, Miss Tomblin. You have my word as both a gentleman and a priest.”

  Her father snorted.

  Mary shot him a quelling glance before turning to again regard Reverend Wayward. His expression was earnest, but there was no love in his eyes. Compassion, yes, along with guilt, shame, and grim resolve. But there was nothing of love.

  It was certainly not the proposal she’d envisioned all those months ago when she’d thought herself in love with him. And now she recognized the truth: that her feelings for him had indeed been nothing more than an infatuation. He was honorable and kind, but he wasn’t the man she’d come to—though apparently the sentiment had been grossly misplaced—love.

  Or desire. Reverend Wayward wore the same face as the fraud she knew to be Devlin, but when she looked at him, she felt nothing. He held her hand between his, but his touch elicited no pleasant tingles or pull of want inside her. When Devlin had touched her, her entire body had come alive.

  The memory of it threatened to bring on fresh tears. Anger burned in her gut, and she lowered her gaze so the man kneeling before her wouldn’t see it in her face. Had he not traded places with his misbegotten brother, she’d never have felt such desire and would not now be in this predicament. His cowardice had cost her any chance of happiness.

  Her conscience pricked her hard. He fled his home in part because you pressured him. Then you threw yourself at his replacement. That another man took what you freely surrendered is not his fault. It’s yours, for brazenly offering it. Your fault in this is equal to his, if not greater.

  Resignation slowly settled in as necessity overrode all other considerations. Should they fail to find Devlin, she would become the vicar’s wife, just as she’d planned when they’d first met, but it was no longer the realization of a dream. It was simply what had to be done. A loveless union seemed a fitting punishment for them both.

  “For my child’s sake, I accept your offer.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Devlin was out of the coach before it had rolled to a complete stop. Bounding up the steps, he sailed through the door the instant it opened, past the open-mouthed footman, and proceeded directly to David’s study, where he always was this time of day.

  But David wasn’t there.

  Perplexed by his oldest sibling’s deviation from routine—David never varied his schedule unless something infringed upon it—he made for his stepmother’s favorite salon, eager to have done with the unpleasantness of making his confession. He’d decided the truth, despite the well-deserved censure it would incur, was best.

  No more lies. No more omissions. His family, unhappy though they might be with him when all was said and done, could be trusted to keep the secret. Oh, they wouldn’t do it for his sake, but that didn’t matter. They’d do it for themselves—and for Mary. It would take a miracle to convince her of his love, but however long it took, he’d wait. Whatever she demanded of him, he’d do it. He was prepared to sacrifice anything and everything for her.

  In fact, he’d already begun. His house in London and everything in it had been sold with all haste. He’d also sold his part of the business to St. Peters and then had cut ties with all his former associates. His old life had been shed and left behind.

  He’d stopped at Rosewood House on his way here and was well pleased with his purchase. The decorator had done an excellent job, and the new servants had made the place spotless. It was in a perfect state of preparedness for its new master and, eventually, mistress.

  He poked his head in the salon, but his family weren’t in there, either. Where is everyone? He peered through the windows overlooking the gardens and spied his stepmother walking back toward the house with a basketful of cut flowers on her arm.

  “Danny?” It was his sister. “What are you doing here?”

  Without turning around, he answered, “Why, I’m here to see you, of course. And David, as soon as I can find him.” At last he faced her. “Where has he got to, do you know?”

  Her eyes widened. “Devlin?”

  “Ah, so you can tell us apart.” Laughing at her incredulous expression, he made to embrace her, but she backed away as if he were diseased. The laughter died on his lips. “Diana? What is the matter?”

  Her face had gone as white as the lilies in the basket she carried. “You unspeakable monster!”

  Shocked by her outburst, Devlin ducked as a fistful of lilies came sailing at his head, followed by another, and then the basket itself. “Diana! What the—Diana!”

  “Don’t you ‘Diana’ me!” she bellowed, picking up a figurine from the nearest table and hurling it at him. It narrowly missed, shattering against the wall beside him. She grabbed another and cocked her arm for another volley. “I cannot believe you’d dare to show your face here!”

  Uh-oh.

  “What the devil is going on in here?” thundered David, rushing in. He grabbed their sister’s wrist before she could send another missile flying. Then he spied her target, and his face, too, drained of color. “Devlin?”

  The sinking feeling in the pit of Devlin’s stomach worsened. “I take it you know.”

  His sister spoke first, eyes snapping with fury. “That you’re a heartless cad? Yes, we know.”

  Heartless cad?

  David gently relieved her of her intended projectile. “Diana, fetch your mother from the garden at once and bring her here.”

  Shooting Devlin a black look, she yanked free and stomped out of the room, muttering invectives every step of the way.

  “David, I can—”

  “Your brother already explained everything.”


  Why? Why had Daniel told them about the switch? Had his conscience plagued him that much? “I’m sorry, David. Things got a bit out of hand, is all, but—”

  “‘A bit out of hand’?” cut in David, advancing to stand directly in front of him. His hard hazel eyes appeared almost entirely green, a sign of just how angry he was. “You compromised her!”

  Shit. Swallowing his trepidation, Devlin chose his words with as much care as possible. “She found me after I’d been to the pub and—I did not mean to let things go so f—”

  Pain exploded in his jaw as David’s fist connected in a powerful uppercut that sent him crashing to the floor in an ungainly sprawl. Stunned, he sat up with a grunt, but remained on the floor. “I suppose I deserved that.”

  “Be thankful I don’t have a pistol,” said David flatly.

  A chill settled in Devlin’s gut at the look in his brother’s eyes. “I hope you were not this hard on Danny. It was my fault, you know. All of it. I persuaded him to do it.”

  “Yes, and thereby invited a scandal that would have ruined us all had not fortune been on our side, although I would hardly call what’s happened good fortune.”

  Frowning, Devlin peered up at him. “What do you mean?”

  Their sister and stepmother entered, and Diana spoke. “Why don’t you tell him the reason Mama and I were out gathering flowers, David?” Her face was a mask of loathing.

  The blood in Devlin’s veins froze as his gaze fell on the now partly crushed lilies strewn across the floor. Oh, God… “Mary—she’s not—?”

  “No,” answered David, his eyes narrowing as Devlin let out the breath he’d been holding. His expression softened an increment. “She’s alive and as well as can be under the circumstances.”

  Again, dread tied knots in his gut. “What circumstances?”

  “Mary and Daniel are to be married,” answered his stepmother. “Tomorrow morning.”

  “Married?” Devlin shot to his feet, wincing at the resulting twinge in his leg.

  “We tried to find you, but you’d left London with nary a trace!” she snapped. “What were we to think but that you’d fled?”

  David stepped in again. “It was the only way to avoid ruining them both and all of us along with them.”

  Devlin’s heart wouldn’t stop racing. “Ruining? What do you mean ru—”

  “She’s with child.”

  The world tilted beneath his feet, and he had to grip the back of a chair to steady himself. I’m going to be a father. But Mary was marrying Daniel tomorrow. The man she wanted all along. “It’s not his,” he managed to croak.

  “We know that, you insufferable ass!” snapped David, his voice rising to an enraged bellow. “Daniel would certainly never have compromised her!” Taking a deep breath, he visibly mastered himself. “He informed us you had not written him back and that his latest letter had been returned. I was forced to hire people to look for you—as discreetly as possible—but you were nowhere to be found. Your gaming establishments and house were shut, your accounts were closed, even your solicitor had packed up and left town. It was as if you’d vanished from the face of the earth.”

  Through the lingering shock of discovering he’d fathered a child, Devlin numbly answered, “I cut ties. All of them. To come here and start anew. I did not want my past to follow me.”

  A snort of humorless laughter broke from his oldest brother’s lips. “Well you did a damned good job of it. Meanwhile, we who knew nothing of your plans could only assume you had used and then abandoned poor Miss Tomblin to her fate.”

  Guilt tore at Devlin anew. “You cannot think I would ever be so cruel,” he pleaded. “I told her my true identity after…” He broke off, his face heating as he glanced at the women in the room. Clearing his throat, he decided to censor his tale for the sake of decency. “I offered her my name—I told her I would come back to Harper’s Grove and woo her properly, as myself. She refused me. I could hardly force her to accept. You must believe me.”

  David’s disgusted glare softened an increment, and then he let out a frustrated sigh. “I do,” he said at last, grudgingly. “Regardless, there is little that can be done now. Daniel offered to marry her because he feels responsible—he let the wolf in, so to speak—and he’s determined that she not be humiliated or her child suffer for it. Tomorrow morning, they will speak their vows and become husband and wife.”

  “No. I will not allow it.” Determination filled him. “We have to stop the wedding.” He’d take her somewhere far away. He’d have to sell Rosewood House and start again somewhere they were neither of them known.

  “You cannot,” said his stepmother. “She must marry as soon as possible—the child—”

  “Is mine,” he interrupted, indignant. “She cannot marry him while carrying my child, not if I’m prepared to fulfill my obligation as a husband and father.” As he spoke, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the special license he’d brought with him from London. “And I assure you, I am.”

  “What on earth makes you think she’ll accept you?” spat Diana. “She despises you, and with good reason!”

  His temper flared. “You knew what Danny and I were doing almost from the beginning, so don’t you dare to lecture me on morality!”

  She had the good grace to blanch as both her mother and David stared at her, astonished. “Yes,” she finally affirmed. “I knew. And I held my tongue to protect Daniel. I never imagined you’d do something so reprehensible—at least not while wearing his collar.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I hate you almost as much as Mary does! If you’ve any human decency at all, you’ll leave England like we thought you’d done and let her marry him. At least he’ll be good to her.”

  Her words hit him like a cannonball to the gut. “He does not love her, Diana.”

  “And you expect us to believe you do?” his sister scoffed, angrily swiping at her eyes. “After the way you treated her? Like one of your London whores?”

  A soft gasp broke from his stepmother. “Diana!”

  “Oh, don’t bother being scandalized, Mama. I know what he does for a living and the sort of people with whom he consorts.” She impaled him with her gaze. “I dare him to deny it.”

  Shame seared him. “No. I won’t deny it. But I regret my previous conduct. I was wrong to deceive Mary—and everyone else in Harper’s Grove, including you,” he said, looking his brother and stepmother each in the eye before going on. “I can only beg your forgiveness and tell you that I came here to make things right.”

  The faces staring back at him remained unmoved.

  “I can prove it,” he persisted. “I bought Rosewood House. For Mary. For us.”

  No softening whatsoever.

  Swallowing his pride—he had no right to any—he rushed on. “I knew I was not good enough for her, but I could not stop thinking about her. It’s why I came back, despite everything. I had to at least try. Had I known she was with child, I’d have come sooner. She cannot marry Daniel,” he reiterated, the pain in his chest returning tenfold at the thought of losing her again. His voice shook as he finally said it aloud: “I love her.”

  “God, help us all,” muttered David, passing a hand over his face and letting out an exasperated sigh. “It would have been so much simpler had you disappeared as we’d thought, but you’re here now, and I believe you mean well.” He silenced their sister’s protest with a curt gesture. “Somehow, we must find a way to straighten out this mess. She cannot marry the wrong man if the right one is willing.” Sighing again, he pinched the bridge of his nose and then abruptly straightened. “We must delay the wedding,” he said decisively.

  “But what of the announcement?” Devlin asked, stomach still in knots. “Have the banns not already been read?”

  David shook his head. “They preferred to marry quietly and ‘surprise’ everyone with the news once it was do
ne. A friend of Daniel’s was to have performed the ceremony, but I’m sure we can get a message to him canceling the affair in time—if we hurry.” He fixed Devlin with hard eyes. “Mary has been…unfriendly toward Daniel since you left, and none but our families know she’s with child.”

  Hope rallied. “Then I still have a chance.”

  “For whatever it’s worth, yes. And you’d better not waste it,” said David, a dangerous glint in his eye. “You will go to her and her parents this evening—I’ll take you myself—and explain yourself. Then you will propose that you be formally ‘introduced’ to Miss Tomblin tomorrow, upon which you will give every appearance of falling madly in love. In the days following, you will make a public effort to win her affections, and you will, as far as everyone in the village is concerned, succeed.”

  Again, his stepmother brought up the issue of time. “It will have to be a very quick courtship. She is already two and a half months gone. It’s nearly May, and the weather is warming, too. You have three, four weeks at most, before fashion can no longer conceal the truth from keen eyes.”

  David nodded. “A wedding is out of the question, then. You’ll have to elope,” he told Devlin. “At worst, there’ll be a minor scandal over the haste of it. Especially if you take a long honeymoon trip and come back with the child already born.”

  The woman who’d taken the place of his mother some twenty-one years ago took a deep breath and added, “You can always adjust the birthdate. People might suspect, but they won’t know for certain.”

  It was a daunting proposition, but it was really the only choice. Devlin nodded.

  David looked to Diana, who stood with her arms folded and a mutinous look on her face. “This will work only if we are all in agreement.”

  All eyes moved to Diana, whose demeanor remained unyielding as she continued to glare daggers at Devlin. “I still think she’d be better off with Daniel. You left her. For two months.”