Deverell's Obsession: A Risqué Regency Romance

by Sahara Kelly

  The Earl looked stunned. “Oh no. My God, Dev. That’s dreadful news. Dreadful.”

  “It is, sir. Very sad. Especially since it appears he was deliberately murdered. Why…we don’t know yet, but there is a Bow Street Runner on the case and I have hopes of learning more shortly.”

  “This is ghastly, lad.” The Earl was pale. “What is the world coming to?” He paused. “Does this have anything to do with that person looking for sanctuary, by any chance?”

  Dev blinked. He might be aging, but the Earl of March was as sharp-witted as he’d ever been. A brilliant mind wasn’t always blunted by a title and wealth.

  “I cannot say for sure, your Grace. But that is a concern, I’ll admit.”

  “If you need anything at all, Dev, you let me know. I still have a few contacts here and there. I would be happy to be a resource for you should you need one.”

  Since March sat in the House of Lords, Dev couldn’t begin to imagine the network of information he could lay his hands on, if need be.

  “Your offer is gracious and incredibly generous, your Grace. I hope this matter will resolve itself without my needing to involve you any more than our conversation today. You have been an enormous help with your reminiscences—more than you might realize.” Dev stood. “But I will keep the possibilities open, if that’s acceptable.”

  “On one condition. When all’s said and done, you come back, we’ll break open a fine brandy, and you can tell me the whole. Is that a deal?”

  “Deal, sir. On my honor.” Dev smiled, bowed and shook hands on it.

  He hoped that time wouldn’t be too far in the future. And that everyone he knew now would still be in one piece when all the bits of the puzzle had been satisfactorily put into place.

  *~~*~~*

  He made his way back to Deverell House, only to find Lucius on the doorstep at almost the same moment.

  “We have to stop meeting like this.” Dev grinned at his friend, as Baxter admitted them into the foyer with a bow.

  “Since you live here, I think that might not be too easy,” answered Lucius, letting the butler take his coat, along with Dev’s.

  “Shhhh.”

  Both men turned at the sound, to see Aunt Bertie tiptoeing across the marble floor with her finger to her lips. “You two won’t believe this. Come see.” She beckoned them upstairs with a conspiratorial flick of her hand.

  Dev’s first thought was concern for Léonie. If she’d relapsed…

  But then Bertie led them to Léonie’s room, paused outside and shushed them once again.

  She opened the door…and Dev stared at the scene.

  Both Léonie and Julia were fast asleep, Léonie in her bed against several pillows, and Julia in the chair next to her, wrapped in two furry blankets.

  Bertie grinned at the men and pulled the door quietly shut again.

  “Let’s let them have their nap,” she whispered.

  Dev looked at Lucius, who lifted his arms to either side and raised his eyebrows helplessly.

  “Come on. Tea’s waiting.” Bertie whispered again and all three returned downstairs and into a small salon.

  “How long have they been like that, Aunt Bertie?” Dev went to the fire and warmed his hands.

  “I don’t know. I got back half an hour ago and they were sound asleep.”

  “Julia’s been working hard, so I can understand her being tired. London is trying for her in different ways to Gordonstone.” Lucius joined Dev at the hearth.

  “It’s good for Léonie to rest as well. We know that.” Dev nodded. “But I’ll add that I’m very pleased those two have become friends.”

  Bertie sat. “No arguments there. So tell me, boys. What have you been up to and do you have any news?”

  “I have some.” Dev turned and let the fire warm his buttocks. He told them of his conversation with the Earl of March and how he’d uncovered the connection between the Deverells and Aubrey Elwyn.

  Both Bertie and Lucius listened attentively. At the end of his narration, Dev turned to his friend. “So his Grace was a great help and promised further assistance if we need it. It occurred to me on the way home that he might have some connections in the Diplomatic Corps—will we need to tap that?”

  “Maybe not,” answered Lucius. “I did have some luck in that direction, although not at the Club. I had to actually go over to Whitehall and look up an old friend. And then I had to convince him I wasn’t looking to borrow money.”

  Bertie looked at him reprovingly.

  “Don’t give me that look, Aunt Bertie. I’m well aware of my disreputable past.” He grinned.

  “But you did finally get to talk to him?”

  “I did.” Lucius walked from the fire to a side chair and made himself comfortable. “We decided to take a stroll together. Get a bit of fresh air.”

  “Ah.” Dev watched his friend. “Since it was such a lovely afternoon…with the cold rain and the wind…”

  “Quite.” Lucius nodded. “Damn diplomats think that there’s a pair of ears around every corner. I damn near froze my fingers to the bone.”

  “Was it worth it, Lucius?” Aunt Bertie sipped her tea and regarded him over the rim of the cup. “If you had to leave the premises to talk to him, it must have been something he considered important…”

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure it was.” Lucius looked at Dev. “My friend knows Colonel Girard.”

  “What?” Bertie’s cup and saucer rattled.

  “Léonie’s father?” Dev stared in astonishment

  “Yes. One and the same. Apparently he has some sort of office in Whitehall, but its location is not available. Neither is the gentleman’s whereabouts at the present time.”

  “Uh…” Dev frowned.

  “This is what I was told, Dev.” Lucius looked at his friend. “The Colonel is, according to my contact, an esteemed and respected member of our country’s efforts to assure peace in Europe. He travels frequently to many courts, acting on behalf of His Majesty’s government, and is often authorized to negotiate various propositions, amendments and agreements.”

  “Good God.” Dev took it all in. “That makes him very high up in any kind of Diplomatic setting.”

  “Indeed. He was at the Congress of Vienna, working closely with Castlereagh. No secrets about that. I understand he was prominent in some of the trickier negotiations, and with his fluency in Russian, he was always in demand by the Tsar and his entourage.”

  “Not surprising,” mused Aunt Bertie.

  “True. I understand that Girard soon became a valued participant in just about every negotiation. Metternich looked to him from time to time, as did delegates from some of the other nations. Castlereagh wasn’t shy in letting them know that he depended heavily on Girard’s contributions.”

  “Impressive.” Dev blew out a breath of air between his lips. “And yet how little we seem to know of the man.”

  “There’s more.” Lucius leaned forward. “Colonel Girard was much in demand as a guest at the evening entertainments, and was occasionally seen at as many as three balls in one night.”

  “The man has stamina.” Bertie blinked.

  “He was also in demand by more than a few ladies.” Lucius cleared his throat. “If you know what I mean.”

  Dev’s eyes widened. “The man must have been extremely adept at avoiding serious trouble. I can’t think of an easier way to complete ruin than flitting from bed to bed at the Congress of Vienna.”

  “The latter are more rumors than anything else, but where there’s smoke…”

  Dev nodded. “I’d say that marks him as one of the most skilled diplomats I’ve ever heard of.”

  “More than that, Dev.” Lucius looked serious. “I think it makes him a spy.”

  Chapter Ten

  “A spy? Papa?” Léonie stared, aghast. “You must be jesting.”

  “It’s a possibility, my dear. One we have to explore in light of what’s happened to you.” Dev’s voice was kind but resolute.

&n
bsp; “All the pieces add up, Léonie.” Lucius added his mite to Dev’s answer. “Your father is a man of incredible diplomatic talents, and he has a reputation that is lauded by just about everyone who knows him in person or who is in that area of international relationships. Yet very few seem to have actually met him.”

  “But a spy?” She still couldn’t get her mind to accept the notion. “He’s always been…just Papa. I cannot recall anything that might be construed as acting as a spy…and anyway, for whom? If he was spying, was it for England? Or the Tsar perhaps? Surely not for France…there is so much political turbulence going on still…”

  The four of them were sitting around the remains of an evening meal, something they’d decided to share after the ladies awoke from their nap. They were in the morning room, defying convention, and enjoying a simple dinner and conversation around a table made for six at most.

  It was an intimate environment that allowed the men to share their discoveries and to learn that even while housebound, Julia and Léonie had put together a few pieces themselves.

  Julia leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her wine. “Well, let’s step back a little here and just re-state what we now know as facts.” She lifted her hand and used her fingers as counters. “We know that Lord Elwyn has connections to the Deverells through his family and your Mama, Dev.”

  “Correct.” Dev nodded.

  “We also know that Léonie’s father, Colonel Girard, is a renowned diplomat with an entrée to the highest government circles of many capital cities.”

  “Also correct.” Lucius endorsed that one.

  “And we know that Léonie was on her way to England to meet with her Papa when she was attacked.”

  “Um…I think so.” Léonie thought about it. “I do think that’s why I was coming here. There is no possible other reason. At least not one I can recall.”

  “Good.” Julia nodded. “Those are the facts. We can make assumptions based on these facts but we cannot go further and say anything for certain. So what this means is that there is no way we can accuse your father of being a spy for anyone, Léonie. The situation could indicate that, but until we learn more, or find out where he is, I believe we should simply proceed on our original course. We need to discover more about your presence here in England and who attacked you. Also why. Perhaps when we pursue these questions, we will find more answers to some of the others.”

  Dev looked at Lucius. “She’s very smart, you know. I think I told you that before you married her.”

  “You did. And I paid attention.”

  “I’m sitting right here, gentlemen. I can hear every word you’re saying.” Julia glared at them both.

  “We’re complimenting you, darling.” Lucius leaned over and took her hand. “You’ve put everything concisely and neatly into perspective.”

  “Indeed. Thank you Julia.” Dev smiled at her. “I do have one more thing to add. I wasn’t sure that I should mention this because it is bad news, but it is relevant, I’m afraid.”

  “What, Dev?”

  Léonie’s heart fluttered at his expression. This was something that was going to be upsetting, she was certain.

  “I learned that Lord Elwyn, the Elwyn of the note and the son of Margaret Wellstone, passed away earlier this week in his home in the country.”

  “Oh no.”

  Julia’s exclamation echoed Léonie’s thoughts. She had so hoped that Lord Elwyn could shed light on so many of her own questions.

  She choked down her disappointment. “What happened, Dev? Do you know?”

  He met her gaze, his eyes somber. “Unfortunately, he was murdered.”

  The world turned fuzzy around Léonie, and clouds crossed her vision as the meaning of his words percolated through to the inner core of her brain.

  “Oh my God…”

  Everything went dark.

  *~~*~~*

  Dev quietly closed the door. “She’s still out. I suppose the shock hit her harder than I could have expected. I swear I wouldn’t have told her otherwise.”

  “She’ll be all right, Dev. Let her sleep.” Aunt Bertie touched his arm as they stood outside Léonie’s room.

  Dev had carried her upstairs just as Bertie had returned from her evening’s engagement and it had been she who took over as Julia and Lucius took their leave.

  All was soon settled, quiet and restful, except for Dev’s brain. He was furious with himself, regretting the moment he’d spoken of Elwyn’s death.

  He said so to Bertie as they walked along the upstairs corridor to her rooms. “I am all kinds of a fool.”

  “She had to know sometime. Might as well be now, when she’s safe here at Deverell House.”

  “Part of me knows you’re right. The other part is kicking my brain up the arse.” He sighed. “Forgive my language.”

  “Oh for God’s sake, boy. I’ve heard worse, said worse and if all you can come up with is that, I’m ashamed of you.” She stopped in front of her door and turned to face him. “Did you fuck up here? No. I don’t think you did. There. That’s putting it bluntly. So go chew on that. I’m going to bed.”

  Dev couldn’t help a grin as the door closed in his face. He did as he was bid, but as he slipped into his dressing gown, his eyes fell on the portrait. She looked so…lost tonight. Adrift.

  And he cursed when he remembered there was no maid with her.

  That was all it took. He was out his door, down the corridor and going silently into her room before he quite realized where he was.

  But the sigh of relief he released when he saw she was still resting…well, that told him he’d done the right thing.

  He put another log on the fire, checked it was banked down well, and then pulled the screen in front of it.

  The large chair that Julia had napped in was still by the bed, as was the blanket, so Dev made use of both of them. It was extremely improper and he should have summoned a maid, but it was late and he knew he couldn’t rest until Léonie had awoken from her faint.

  So he settled down, turning so that he could see her in the firelight. It was not unlike looking at his portrait from a different angle. Her skin was a pearl sheened with gold, her lips a deeper shade of peachy rose.

  Soft dark hair spread over the pillow, a testimony to the care of her maid.

  Once again he kicked himself for dropping such devastating news into the conversation. He should have remembered that she was still fragile, although he had a feeling she wouldn’t like it if he mentioned it.

  There was a strength beneath the delicacy, a determination in her eyes and the set of her chin. When she was fully healthy, he’d bet many guineas that few would stand in her way when she set her mind to something.

  He couldn’t wait to find out.

  She stirred, turning with a little sound and shifting on the pillow. Then she opened her eyes and instinctively looked to the side where Dev half-sat half-lay in the chair.

  “Dev.”

  “I’m here, Léonie.”

  She smiled for an instant, a look of happiness crossing her face. Then, as if the thoughts dropped onto her shoulders, she sobered. “Dead. Elwyn is dead.”

  “Yes he is. And I cannot find the words to tell you how sorry I am that I shocked you that way.” He reached out his hand in a gesture of apology, and to his surprise she took it in hers.

  “It’s all right. I think I was overtired.” She let their fingers remain entwined. “But it is a little unsettling.”

  “Yes it is.” Dev spoke quietly, unwilling to disturb this moment of soft whispers and simple questions.

  “Am I still in danger? Will whoever killed Lord Elwyn come looking for me, do you think?”

  Her fingers twitched in his, gripping him a little tighter. “I cannot answer that, Léonie. I truly do not know. But because I do not know, you will be protected every minute of every day. Nobody will harm you. Not while I’m here.”

  “I feel safe with you.” A plain statement indeed. “Dev, may I ask you someth
ing terribly inappropriate?”

  “You can ask me anything.”

  “Would you lie here beside me and hold me? I’m not sure I can sleep unless I know there is another in this room.”

  Dev bit down on the instant vision of discarding his clothing and sliding naked beneath her covers to cradle her warmth with his.

  “Of course.” If his voice was a little rougher than normal, he prayed she wouldn’t notice.

  He pushed the blanket aside and stood as Léonie moved to the far side of her bed. In less than a breath he was beside her and she was snuggling into his body, her head on his shoulder, her hand over his heart.

  He heard the deep sigh of relief as she relaxed against him, and he reached for the blanket to cover himself. It wasn’t for warmth.

  The scent of her, a blend of something sweetly floral and warm woman, was touching him on an elemental level. He was growing more aroused by the second and blessed the blanket for hiding his erection.

  “Thank you. This is much better.” She nuzzled his dressing gown affectionately, a kitten relishing a cuddle.

  Dev gritted his teeth. “It is indeed,” he lied.

  Silence fell for a few minutes, during which Dev died a thousand deaths of desire. He wanted her. He acknowledged that. He wanted to strip her from her nightgown and learn her body from eyebrow to toenail.

  He wanted to explore the soft nooks and crannies, lick his way to her sensitive places and then finally bring her to her peak in every manner he could think of.

  And then he’d like to do it all over again in the morning, in the sunlight so that he could see those places he was investigating, not just feel them.

  “You sighed,” she said.

  “Did I?”

  “Yes. Am I a problem for you?”

  “Not in the way you mean.” He kept his tone light.

  “In what way, then?” She turned slightly in his arm and looked up at him, her face so close to his.

  He surrendered. Gave up the battle and acknowledged his defeat. He was lost in the moment, drowning in her nearness and as hungry as he’d ever been for a taste of a woman.