Her head came up, chin jutting forward and fire dancing in her eyes. “And is that your reason for offering? That I might, once more, help you set society on its collective ear?”
“No, Willa,” Devil said softly. “I offer because I desire you. Because you desire me. Because together, we could build a home for Marina where she would feel safe and cared for… where she would never again have to be afraid. And we could have children of our own, children who would never know the pain of cruel or indifferent parents such as we did.”
“It’s madness,” she said. “And our earlier indiscretion is hardly a reason to court further scandal and ruin.”
Devil stepped closer to her, close enough that he could smell the faint scent of lilies coming from the tightly braided waves of her hair. “That wasn’t an indiscretion, Willa.”
“If not that, then what would you call it?” she shot back at him.
“An inevitability. I thought, when you and I first met, that we could not have been more different. But in fact, I think we are far more alike than I could have ever imagined. I have made myself a reprobate in defiance of expectations of me, and you… you have remained upright and moral in defiance of expectation as well.”
She didn’t discount the notion. He could see that from the thoughtful expression that passed over her delicate features, her eyes flashing with curiosity and then resignation. At last, she replied softly, “I will not say you are wrong, but it is not a credit to either of us. My behavior with you earlier would certainly call my upright morality into question. I behaved terribly… lasciviously and with a recklessness that is counter to my nature. Perhaps that moment was inevitable, but I think it would behoove us both to avoid further opportunities for those sorts of things to happen again.”
Devil stroked his thumb over the delicate skin at the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse beat heavily at his touch. He stepped closer to her, pressing a soft kiss against her temple. “If you agreed to be my wife, there would be no sin or immorality in what occurred between us. There is much to be explored between us, Willa, to our mutual delight.”
*
A shiver raced through her at the sensual promise of his words. The memory of his hands on her, of the way he’d kissed her so passionately and so completely that she had forgotten all the many reasons she had to avoid such entanglements—those memories tormented her. They tempted and teased as surely as the low and impossibly seductive pitch of his velvet voice.
“It’s madness. Complete foolishness,” she said.
“Would you consider it? Truly? It is a good offer, Willa, and a genuine one,” he said. “I think we could do well together.”
“And your mistress? And your many lovers?” Willa asked. “How will they fare in this arrangement?”
He smiled. “Do you want me to promise you fidelity?”
“I’ve never given much thought to the idea of being a wife. But I know that I am not the sort who would be able to turn a blind eye to such flagrant indiscretions as you have committed in the past.” The idea of being his wife and of having to share him with other women—Willa knew such a thing would breed only misery and resentment.
“I could tell you that I will be faithful, but you would not believe me because you do not think me capable of it,” he said. “What I can say to you, Willa, is that I will be a good husband to you.”
“By society’s standards or by my own?” Willa asked.
“I will make you happy. I will endeavor to do so, Willa. Consider it. That is all I ask.”
Willa met his gaze cautiously. He was too handsome, too tempting. Looking at him made her yearn for the very thing he offered her and that she so feared accepting. “I will consider it, but you know what my answer must be.”
“That is not truly considering it then. Do not give the answer you must, Willa. Give the answer that you want,” he urged.
Before she could say anything further, his hand slipped from hers and he strode off down the hall, leaving her alone outside Marina’s door. Part of her wanted to beg him to come back, to feel his touch again. And she would consider his offer. In truth, she’d be able to think of nothing else. It warmed her heart and made her yearn for things that she should not. If she answered based solely on desire, it would be a resounding yes. But it would be unfair to him because while she was fully prepared to be a governess in a fine house, she was not prepared to be the mistress of one. Given that and her scandalous background, she’d do him no credit. And after years of courting his own scandal, if he hoped to turn his life around and give Marina the future she deserved, he’d need to court propriety with equal fervor.
With her heart heavy and her mind whirling, Willa made her way to her room. Her luxurious bed offered no comfort, and not even the softest of pillows or the smooth silk of the coverlet could ease her jangled nerves.
Chapter Nineteen
The note had been delivered by a child that was little better than an urchin. The butler’s distaste was still evident when he brought the small, folded piece of parchment to her on a silver tray. The outside of it was streaked with dirt from the child’s hand.
“Shall I have the boy await a reply?” he asked, his deep voice laced with disapproval.
“No, you shall not. If a reply is required I shall make my own arrangements,” she replied smoothly, trying not to reveal how desperate she was to know the contents of that letter.
“Very well, Lady Carringden,” he said, bowed in a manner that was infuriately slow, and then all but crawled from the room at a snail’s pace.
When at least she was alone, Jeannette broke the seal and the read the first communication she’d had with Alaric since the debacle of his botched elopement with Alice.
My dearest J,
You’ve no idea how I’ve missed you, how I long for the comfort of your arms. I know that if I can bring Lord Deveril to heel, I will have the funds we need to begin a new life somewhere. Perhaps we could go to Spain. I long to bask in the warmth of a southern sun with you. But unless I can get the child out of his grasp, he’ll never compensate me for the loss of her as he should. If you know of another way, or if you could bring yourself to help me reclaim her, then meet me in the park in one hour.
With love as always,
A.
Jeannette read it again, treasuring each of the words. He was lying. He always lied and she simply didn’t care. All she wanted was to be with him. No man had ever excited her as he did. No man had ever given her such exquisite pleasure. Of course, she’d experienced his temper, his moods, and his volatile nature, but those things only excited her more.
Voices in the hall distracted her from her musings and fantasies. Rising, she crossed to the door of the morning room and peered into the hall while keeping herself concealed.
“Where are you off to, Miss Marina?” the cook asked in her jovial manner as Miss Marks and the child descended the stairs.
Miss Marks hesitated, leaving a space in the conversation for the child to reply if she was so inclined, but the brat remained silent. Finally, Miss Marks said, “I thought we’d go into the garden for a bit. Marina needs some sunshine, and it’s nice for thinking.”
Mrs. Farrelly nodded, and a sage expression crossed her florid, round face. “Aye, it is. And I’m thinking you’ve a great deal to consider, Miss Marks. His lordship is a good man, no matter what folks say.”
Jeannette watched the younger woman’s face, noting the blush that stained her cheeks and the way her eyes dropped to the ground. They were not truly betrothed, of that she was certain. She’d been suspicious from the moment Devil had written her asking her to act as chaperone. It was too sudden, especially for a man who had claimed he only ever intended to have other men’s wives.
“I know that he is, Mrs. Farrelly, but you know the truth of my station,” the young woman said. “That I am only a governess and not the affianced bride of a scandalous lord. And scandalous or not, he is still a lord and would need a wife far more suited to his position
than I could ever be.”
“It isn’t his position that he needs a woman suited to, Miss Marks,” Mrs. Farrelly said kindly. “It’s himself. And you’ll forgive me for saying, but I think the two of you suit quite well. And so does he.”
Jeannette leaned closer to the door, hoping to hear better what the two women were saying. As she did so, her hip bumped against a small table and the vase on it teetered alarmingly. She caught it just in time before it crashed to the floor. Still, the two women on the stairs had heard it and clammed up. Knowing that to keep herself concealed would only increase suspicion, she pasted a bright smile on her face and stepped from the morning room. “Dear heavens, I am so graceless at times. I very nearly knocked over a vase on my way out!”
“You didn’t injure yourself, I hope,” Miss Marks said with concern.
“No! No! Not in the least, simply tripped over my own feet and nearly upset a table,” Jeannette offered with a laugh. “Mrs. Farrelly, would you be so kind as to send my maid up for my shawl. I plan to take a walk this morning. I’ve been cooped up for far too long!”
“Certainly, my lady,” the cook said, bobbing a curtsy and bustling off toward the kitchen.
Alone with the pseudo-bride, Jeannette smiled again. “Tell me, my dear, how did you and my nephew meet? Devil simply glossed over it the other night, and I’m dying to hear the tale of your whirlwind romance!”
Miss Marks’ eyes narrowed, but her smile remained perfectly in place. “Your nephew is a far better storyteller than I. You must ask him when he returns from his errands. As it stands, I’ve promised Marina to spend the day in the garden with her so that she may play and get as dirty as she chooses.”
Jeannette nodded. “Of course! Every child should get a bit grubby from time to time. I’m certain you did, didn’t you, Miss Marks?”
The governess didn’t nod or smile then. “I feel as if we are having two very different conversations, Lady Carringden, and that the best possible course of action for me is to simply excuse myself from it and see to Marina. Good afternoon, Madame.”
Jeannette watched the governess sweep past her and toward the doors that led out to the small garden. She certainly had fine enough manners and haughty enough ways to be a fine lady, Jeannette thought, but she’d be certain that never happened.
Moments later, her maid descended the stairs carrying her shawl. Jeannette draped it about her shoulders and made her way to the park.
*
Alaric saw Lady Jeannette Carringden striding toward him and smiled. The middle-aged woman was holding up better than most. She still cut a striking figure. She was a lusty thing to be sure, and he’d enjoyed many an afternoon and evening in her bed. He wouldn’t mind enjoying a few more, assuming they could come to an arrangement.
“Over here,” he called out softly from the trees.
Instantly, she stopped, her head swiveling in his direction. She veered off the path, moving toward him in a less than discreet manner. Still, the park was not overly crowded at that hour so there were few enough to witness it. The moment she neared him, he reached out, grabbed her, and pulled her into the small copse of trees. He kissed her passionately, until she was breathless with it and falling against him.
“Oh, Alaric! I’ve missed you more than you know,” she said, still panting.
“And I you, Jeannette. After the debacle with Alice… I tried to do right by her. I truly did. But she became so moody and reckless after her father cast her out. She was despondent and blamed me for her low status,” he said.
“She was always a spoiled, ungrateful child,” Jeannette huffed. “And Lord Deveril and that governess of his will make Marina precisely the same!”
“True, but I cannot take her from him. Alice and I married, but not legally. If we were to go before the courts, they would side with him because he has all the wealth, power, and privilege. But perhaps he will offer some small compensation for my cooperation,” Alaric suggested.
“We both know better than that. He might despise his father, but when it comes to sheer stubbornness, there is little doubt that Devil is much like him. I think that your earlier attempt to liberate the girl by force is the only way… and you now have the perfect opportunity!”
“How so?” he asked, the very picture of innocent curiosity.
Jeannette leaned against him, pressing her body to his. “Miss Marks has taken the girl into the garden to play. I know Devil has hired guards and there is one posted at each end of the mews. If you get rid of them, you’d be able to slip into the garden and take the girl without even raising an alarm… though, I must tell you, you might have better luck ransoming the governess than the child.”
“She’s the governess, you said. Why would he care so much?”
Jeannette’s eyes twinkled with a conspiratorial light. “There’s something between them. He may not be in love with her, but he is certainly infatuated with her. And I daresay, you could sway her to be cooperative, at least. If you take the child, she’ll scream until all of Mayfair is down on your head. Take the governess. He needs her to deal with the child, and his feelings for her are far more complicated than he can even begin to decipher. Trust me.”
“The last time I trusted you, I wound up living in squalor in a rookery with Alice screaming at me that we had no bread to eat or coal for the fire,” he reminded her.
She ducked her head. “And now I will make that up to you. Please, Alaric?”
“Very well,” he said. “I’ve seen them together, and I do not think you are wrong. The governess will be our ace.”
Chapter Twenty
“Munro.”
That single word was uttered by Highcliff with what could only be described as glee as soon as Devil had entered the room. Having spent a sleepless night tormented by alternating lustful and indignant thoughts centered on one very maddening woman, Devil wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. He’d said what he needed to in the hall. He’d made his declaration, and now it was very much in her court.
Devil raised his eyebrows. “Munro what?”
Lord Highcliff grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. The man wasn’t just a hunter, but a predator. There was nothing he loved better than ferreting out information unless it was ferreting out criminals. “It isn’t Munro what, my friend, but Munro who. Alaric Munro. Fugitive. Smuggler. Kidnapper. Defrauder. And quite possibly… murderer. If it is counter to the laws of king and country, the bounder is guilty of it.”
It was far worse than he’d thought, Devil realized. How on earth had Alice gotten involved with such a man? “How did you discover this?”
Highcliff settled back in his chair, propped his booted feet on his desk, and folded his hands together in a very satisfied manner. “You should know by now not to ask such things, my friend. Suffice it to say, Munro, or West if you prefer, had previously brought himself to the attention of some very influential people at Whitehall. His stepfather, a tradesman in the north, had several contracts with the war office. Producing munitions, as it were.”
“Treason?” Devil asked. “West or Munro… whatever he bloody well calls himself, is involved in treason?”
“Indiscretion, at the very least. Munro talked too much, bragged too much, and lost entirely too much on the turn of a card. He shared information that he should not have with people who were linked to the wrong side, but likely without any real notion of what he was revealing. The result is the same, however. Lives were lost in India and on the Continent because he revealed information about shipments and those weapons were, in turn, delivered into the hands of enemies of the crown.”
Devil seated himself in one of the upholstered chairs that faced Highcliff’s desk. How many good men had he watched die in India? How many of them had bled their life’s blood for Munro’s greed? Even if he’d done so inadvertently, his actions had manifested terrible consequences. “And his association with my sister? How did that begin?”
“It’s a bit more complicated there. He was at Oxford, gambli
ng heavily, losing, bankrupting his very bourgeois stepfather, and he was cut off. When that occurred, he used all that he had at his disposal to support his lifestyle… primarily, his charm and his pretty face. He was rather brilliant about it. Those damned novels young women are reading now, with mysterious tragic heroes! He created a story about his terrible and overly dramatic past, and he began frequenting book shops where he could find wealthy young women who were eager for his fictions. Your dear sister was one of them.”
“But not the only one?”
“No,” Highcliff agreed. “Not the only one. Though I daresay she paid the highest price. He hedged his bets incorrectly once more it seemed. Of the women who’d fallen in with his scheme, Alice was the one with the wealthiest family and best connections. He severed ties with the others and focused solely on her, much to her delight and eventual doom. Your father’s coldness to her left her uniquely vulnerable to a man like Munro, I think.”
The weight of guilt settled on him like a familiar cloak. “As did my absence.”
“Which can also be laid directly at your father’s doorstep,” Highcliff protested. “You did not leave her by choice. Your father didn’t exile you for your behavior, Devil. Not really. He exiled you because he couldn’t bear the sight of you. Never could.”
“I thank you for your attempt, Highcliff, but you cannot absolve me of guilt in this instance,” Devil replied. “I knew the risks of my behavior. My father had threatened it often enough. I was well aware of the exile I courted, but I was too young and too selfish to appreciate that the impact of it would harm anyone other than me.”
“We are all able to identify our missteps when they are behind us.”
There was a certain wisdom to Highcliff’s words, but Devil wasn’t quite ready to let go of his guilt and anger yet. They’d become familiar companions to him. “And do we have any idea where Munro is now?”
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