by Hannah West
He had never felt so shock in his life. This lovely woman was the wife of the Marquis of Lakewood. He had not heard the man had remarried.
“My congratulation on your marriage, Lady Lakewood,” he said with a touch of jealousy at the older man.
Her eyes widened before she gasped, “Good god, no! The Marquis is my father, but as his heir and him with no legal wife I am the Lady of Lakewood. Also the Lady of Weston, as is my title as his heir, that title makes me the Countess of Weston.”
Relief flooded him at the news but then he understood her actions, she was above him in station. And that means she also was not married.
A morale question crossed his mind and he waved it away but not before it had a chance to set in.
Would it be wrong to pursue her, since he was interested in her based on her looking like his lost Malia?
He still had his men searching for her but they had turned up nothing, he no longer held out that hope.
So he looked to the lady and then offered her his arm. She brushed passed him and went back inside. Devon stood out the French doors staring after her retreating form.
Chapter Twenty
Malia gritted her teeth as she listened to her aunt go on about the ball the other night and her actions.
Upon returning to the ballroom she had taken up an offer for a dance from one of the many gentlemen Grace had set up to meet her. But at the end of that dance Malia had come back to Grace to find her talking to Devon.
Grace had introduced them and then he had bowed over her hand, requesting a dance.
The action her aunt scolded her on was the fact she had outright refused the man and had left the room to seek out the carriage to be taken home.
She would not have it. He did not remember her after staring straight at her and he now sought to make acquaintances with her?
She wanted none of it. She would still crush him beneath her boot. Malia would have him begging for her forgiveness.
“He is a lord, Malia, and as such a potential husband for you. Well titled and very wealthy, and he showed an interest in you. You have not turned down any other gentlemen I have sent your way,” Grace railed.
“I am not interested in a lord like him,” she inserted boldly.
“You should be interested in any lord who would have you. There are whispers about your father already. Most know that there is no money left.”
“I have a rather steep dowry thanks to your mother,” Malia said. “That should be enough.”
“She did leave you one but who is to say Richard did not find a way to use it,” Grace asked.
“Because I went to find out myself,” Malia snapped, getting up. “I shall find a husband that suits me, not one who will be happy to take me for the money. I will not give myself a way to the only man who offers.”
Grace stumbled as if she had been hit, her eyes wide and tears flowing.
Malia had heard from Iris about her mother and how she had been practically on the shelf and to save herself from a life alone she married to the only man who would offer for her. It was not a king thing but at this point she wanted to be let alone.
She found herself left alone in the drawing room, angry and hurt.
~
Devon was not surprised at her refusal to dance with him. It would seem she hated him even though she did not know him.
He was sure now that she could never be his Malia.
But he found himself interested though he never thought that he would be so again.
Chapter Twenty-One
It took Devon a week to track down any information about the Marquis of Lakewood’s daughter. It would seem she just returned from finishing school in America and he father was keen to marry her off.
However this information came from his uncle, Lord Evan Brackus, in a very unusual way. His uncle was a man he did not care for in the least, but he had run into him leaving a gambling hall in east London.
It would seem his uncle was owed a rather large amount of money from the girl’s father and his uncle thought it a grand idea to trade the debt for the girl’s hand in marriage. He did not need to voice his thought that the girl would be better marrying Lord Lockard and waiting for him to pass.
His uncle had not been a kind man to his last wife and the woman had been driven to a point in her sanity that she had ended her own life.
But it was not of import to Devon. Unless his uncle was serious and courted the girl, he was sure nothing would come of it. Beside he had heard tale of him doing that before and he had never wed.
Other than that bit of information and a few bits of gossip from the events she had attended, it was as if she didn’t exist before this year. But everyone did know of her birth and the sadness of her father’s grief over the passing of his wife. It had run so deep he had never remarried.
Devon believed it was rare for one to be so lucky.
He strode down fashionable Bonn Street, one of his many attempts at trying to be the lord society expected of him. His father had kept up residence in London year round and had always been present for all things fashionable, even more so then his mother who still hosted her tea and garden parties.
Another flash of stark black caught his eye among the grey colors of the day and he narrowed his eyes when he saw Lady Lakewood dart through the crowd dressed like a common maid.
Curiosity struck him and it was such a vast difference over his normal blank mood that he started to follower her without giving it another thought. He noticed that as she never looked behind herself to see if she were followed.
But as he followed her through a seedier part of London, he wondered just what the lady would come here for. Surely not a lover.
He frowned. But what else would she come here for, dressed such as she was?
When she came to the docks in the worst part of town he was about grab her and return to a safer part of town but then she ducked into an old factory building that was most likely poor housing now.
She spent a good deal inside, but as she left she was sent off by three small children and a very thin looking woman, who hugged her in turn before ushering the children back inside.
Devon stood leaning back against the wall he had perched on waiting for her to pass by, leaving him unnoticed. The moment she walked by he grabbed her by the arm gently and whispered in her ear, “My, my, what are you doing here?”
She did not scream but rather squeaked before turning around and hauling off her fist square into his face.
He saw stars as the world tilted around him.
Never before had he been decked by someone who could take him down, let alone a tiny woman half his size.
As he landed flat on his back his one thought was , wow, what a woman.
