His lips twitched. "I don't suppose you require any assistance?"
Her stomach fluttered and she felt the heat of color suffuse her cheeks. "No, my lord. I can manage, thank you." She retrieved the necklace and held the warm pearls in her hand for a long moment, gauging their weight against her decision. At length, she dropped them in her lap in front of him. "They are a family heirloom," she said. "The clasp is diamond. I don't have an appraisal, but I assure you they are worth at least half the subscription fee."
"And the other half?"
"My mare, Cartimandua. She carries premium racing blood, and you've just said you wish to improve your racing stud." Diana prayed she would not have to make that sacrifice.
DeVere stared down at the pearls with a confounded frown. "A necklace and a horse? Do you take me for a pawnbroker, madam?"
"No," she said. "I take you for a gentleman. One who might be inclined to assist a lady in need."
"You appeal to my sense of chivalry?" DeVere laughed. "How droll to imagine anyone thinks I have one!"
"I know you are aware of my tenuous circumstances. My husband has us on the brink of ruin."
DeVere frowned, neither confirming nor denying the statement. "And how came you by this information?"
"I have no desire to discuss it." She evaded his question. "But the way I see it, this race is my only hope of recovery. Of keeping what is rightly mine."
DeVere took up the necklace, lacing the pearls between his fingers as if admiring their luminescence. He looked into her face with an intense and assessing expression, a combination of interest and calculation that sent a scintillating shiver of awareness through her.
"Your only hope?" he murmured. "Surely not. You lack imagination, my dear."
"I don't understand," she said. But perhaps I really do.
Her breath seized when DeVere's hand left the back of the settle. He trailed his fingers gently over her skin from her bared shoulder to her nape where he toyed with a loose curl. He maneuvered behind her, pearls in hand. "Oh, but I'm sure you do."
The light touch of his fingers whispering over her skin as he replaced the pearls sent flares of sensation plummeting to a place deep in her belly. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed with acute awareness of his all-too-masculine and too-close presence and his spicy sandalwood and male scent, but at the same time wanting nothing more than to drink him in. Her body tensed at his warm breath caressing her neck as softly as the words he murmured against her hair. "There is no need to be coy. There is at least one other, far better option for you to consider…and all you have to do is whisper one simple, little word."
One simple, little word. It was as if she'd fallen into her own erotic dream. You only have to say yes, and I will lay paradise at your feet.
She quivered inside as he fastened the clasp. His lips scorched her nape, firing an agonizing ache in her womb and a descent of hot, wet heat that dampened her thighs. She dared not open her eyes. She dared not even breathe for fear of breaking the seductive spell woven by her satyr's words, his caress, and the brush of his lips. His hand was metaphorically outstretched, and Diana felt the word taking shape in her mind, flowing outward, and forming itself on the tip of her tongue.
"There you are, darling." The voice of the duchess shattered the illusion with stark reality.
"Bloody hell! God damned bloody hell!" Diana heard DeVere growl through his teeth.
She looked up to find Caroline paused on the threshold between DeVere's bedchamber and the sitting room. She shot Diana a virulent look "Why Baroness! What on earth could you be doing all alone with Lord DeVere in his private apartments? One could come to so many wicked conclusions, you know. I wonder what your husband would say?"
"That's enough, Caro!" DeVere snapped. "The lady and I had some private business to discuss."
She chuckled. "Darling, there is only one kind of business I know of that requires you to put your hands on her body."
"You presume falsely, duchess. I was having trouble with the clasp." Diana knew her protest was as feeble as her alibi. "But our business is most certainly complete." Diana rose, anger at her own weakness fueling her words. "I see how mistaken I was to come here. I had even been forewarned what manner of man you are. Now I know there is only one kind of gallantry you understand. A good afternoon to you, my Lord DeVere." Diana crossed the room in a fury of swishing silk.
Caroline swiftly took the place she had abandoned by the viscount's side.
"Four o'clock," he said, just as Diana's hand touched the doorknob.
Diana spun around. "Excuse me?"
"I will see the mare run at four o'clock."
She almost forgot to breathe. "Then we have an agreement?"
"A conditional agreement," he responded. "I won't allow you to hazard what little remains in your possession unless I deem her a true prospect to win."
"It is hardly your decision what I do with my jewels or my horse, but you won't be disappointed," Diana said.
The corner of his lips twitched. "I hope not. Twice in one day would surely be more than I can bear."
Chapter Six
"Darling, when you return to town after entertaining these rustics, don't you think we should make it official? I am three months out of mourning, after all. Not that our...arrangement is any particular secret." Caroline chuckled as she traced circles around the flat disk of his nipple.
Her words sounded a deafening alarm in his head, pulling Ludovic abruptly from his sex-sated stupor. He regarded Caroline from under a deceptively hooded gaze. "Official?" he drawled.
"Of course. Now that Beauclerc no longer stands in our way, we are at last free to be together."
DeVere answered dryly, "By my count, we have already been together in as many ways as is humanly possible. Thus, it appears to me the good duke was never any true obstacle."
"You are entirely too wicked." She laughed and raised herself up to straddle his belly. She rubbed her mons against him with a purr, reaching a hand behind to guide him into her, but not finding what she expected. "Is there a problem, my lord? I've never known your cock to require any encouragement."
"Perhaps it's become bored with the menu?"
"Bored!" She threw her powdered head back with a derisive laugh. "You lying whoreson! I'm the best you've ever had! You just don't want to make an honest woman of me."
"All too true, my sweet. Did it never occur to you that it was precisely your unavailability that made up the greater part of your charm?"
Her face contorted with rage, she drew back to strike him, but he caught her by both wrists. "Tsk, tsk, Caro. I think not!" He flipped her onto her back, caging her with his body.
"I thought we would be good together, but I see now I'd only demean myself if attached to you."
He smirked. "But why would you even consider settling for a mere viscount after having a ducal coronet? As I recall, you once thought it a very poor bargain."
"Is that what this is truly about?" Her breathing was ragged, her gaze venomous. "Just some petty revenge because I once jilted you? How pathetic."
He thought she would make the effort now to push him off her, but she undulated beneath him instead, wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her hot core against him. He found himself hardening against his will.
"Part of you still wants me," she said with smug satisfaction. "You can't deny it now."
No, he couldn't; but then again, his cock always had defiantly refused to be ruled by his brain. "Very well, Caroline, I won't deny it." He gave her a fulsome smile as he thrust into her. "So let us just consider this our farewell fuck."
***
Diana left DeVere's chambers in a peculiar daze comprised of equal parts anger, confusion, and lust. She had never been so affected by a man. All he had to do was look at her to set her skin tingling and pulse racing. It had taken little more than a touch and a suggestive word from him for her emptiness to expand and a powerful yearning to take hold of her body. When his lips had seared her skin, she ha
d almost melted away—certainly her fine upstanding resolution had.
Outwardly, she had reacted with the proper amount of righteous indignation, storming away as any virtuous woman would, yet now she wondered how virtuous she really was. The meaning of his parting comment was clear, and Diana wondered if a small part of her shared his disappointment.
Deny it as she tried, she actually envied the freedom of those like the duchess and DeVere, people who broke convention and flouted society to take what they wanted and do as they pleased. She knew that many unhappy wives hired strapping, young footmen to satisfy their unfulfilled needs, but she told herself she wasn't such a woman. If she was, wouldn't she have taken a lover long ago? But then again, she'd never experienced the acute physical awareness, the profound magnetic pull that she felt with DeVere. God knows what might have happened had the duchess not interrupted them.
Still, as much as Diana was drawn to him, she hated her vulnerability. He was unquestionably an expert in the arts of seduction. Even his best friend had warned her about him, but she had believed herself impervious to his mesmerizing charm. She now laughed at her own folly. The Viscount DeVere was a dangerous man indeed.
With these thoughts pillaging her peace, Diana knocked on Annalee's door.
"Come in," was the faint reply. Diana entered the apartments decorated in soothing shades of oyster and dusty rose damask to find Annalee had been dozing with a book in her lap. She gave Diana a tired smile. "Have you seen DeVere?"
"Yes," Diana said. "I have just come from speaking with him."
"And?" Annalee studied her intently.
"Let us say Edward's warning did not go astray."
Annalee's eyes widened. "Did he importune you, Diana?"
She considered her answer. "Not precisely, but his invitation was clear."
"The cad! You never should have spoken with him alone. Ned should have insisted—"
"No, dearest. This was a matter I had to take into my own hands. As it stands, I feel we will come to an agreement."
"What do you mean? Has he not given you an answer?"
"He said he wishes to see the horse run before he will make any decision."
"Then I give him credit for wisdom, anyway." Annalee sighed. "That man is truly a conundrum. I doubt there is any woman capable of taming him."
"What of our darling duchess?" Diana asked
"Caroline? I never did tell you that story, did I? She might have had him once, you know. They had an understanding, but the very night before Ludovic was to petition her father for her hand, she threw him over for the duke."
"Did she? It seems she harbors regrets now."
"She might, but he certainly does not!" Annalee laughed.
"But isn't she his mistress?"
"DeVere is no fool. Despite her designs on him, that's all she'll ever be."
"So he uses her?" Diana said.
"It is my understanding she came uninvited. The hussy deserves what she gets."
"Such condemnation!" Diana laughed. "I didn't think you had it in you, dearest."
"DeVere is a rogue, but he once had honorable intentions toward her. Though he vehemently denied it at the time, I think she hurt him badly. I hold her much to blame that he's never settled down. I wonder now if he ever will." Annalee yawned.
"How are you feeling, Annalee?"
"Excessively drained," Annalee confessed. "I have no energy and often wish that I could sleep the day away. It takes what little reserves I have to keep Ned from hovering over me. He worries so. I told him I want nothing more than to give him a son, but after the last miscarriage..." her lip quivered slightly at the word "...and my extended recovery, he swore he wouldn't allow it to happen again." Annalee rubbed her belly with a shy smile. "But fortunately, I am blessed with a passionate man. Oh!" she cried out suddenly.
"What is it?" Diana exclaimed. "Are you all right?"
Annalee gave her an ebullient smile. "I am wonderful! I just felt little Ned kick me! Come, Diana!" She sat upright and patted the cushion beside her. "See if you can feel it too."
Diana perched gingerly on the divan and laid a light hand on her cousin's belly.
"Here," Annalee said, laying her own hand firmly on top. Both women held their breath until Diana sensed the faintest flutter. "Is that movement?" she asked, incredulous.
"Yes!" Annalee laughed, her eyes alight with joy. "It was! I can't wait to tell Ned."
"I am so happy for you both," Diana said. "I only wish I could also have had a child..."
Annalee's smile disappeared. "Do you not think there is any chance you and Reggie..."
"No," Diana said flatly. "There is none. I only want it to be over now."
"I am so sorry." Annalee squeezed her hand in sympathy.
"So am I," Diana said, plucking at her skirts. "I have been very unhappy in this marriage, Annalee, but I know that is the lot of many women. Unions like yours with Edward are exceedingly rare. We never had what you and Edward have together. The affection...the passion. If only Reggie had shown me a modicum of kindness and respect, I would have resigned myself to carry on."
"Even in the beginning?" Annalee asked. "Are you saying he never showed you attention or cared for your pleasure?"
"Pleasure?" Diana laughed bitterly. "You mean in the marriage bed? Never. It was a most unpleasant experience."
"It often is in the very beginning," agreed Annalee. "But it never improved?"
"On the contrary, it got much worse, became intolerable." Diana averted her gaze. "At first, I thought it was me. He accused me of being frigid and said it was my fault..."
"He was impotent?"
"Unless he drank," Diana said. "So he began to come to me only when in his cups, and that's when matters took a different turn. It was as if he had decided to punish me for failing in my duty to produce a child."
Annalee's forehead puckered. "How do you mean?"
Diana opened her mouth and closed it again. She studied the floral pattern on the toe of her embroidered slipper.
"What is it, Diana?" Annalee asked. "Surely you can tell me."
"Have you and Edward ever..." Diana fought the huge lump forming in her throat. The thought of sharing her humiliating secret made her feel ashamed and dirty.
"Go on," Annalee urged.
She licked her lips. Her eyes grew bleary. "Has Edward ever...has he ever used you...in a way that is...unnatural?"
Annalee threw both arms about her. "My God, Diana! What did that beast do to you?"
The question opened the floodgate of five years keeping. Annalee held her and stroked her hair as Diana choked out her story. "It was never good between us." She hiccupped. "When he came to me, it was never tender. It was never as a lover."
Chapter Seven
In the ostentatiously gilded library with its Italianate frescoed ceiling, DeVere lounged, his booted feet carelessly propped upon the burnished mahogany desk, studying his guest in a silent and scowling appraisal. DeVere noted the bloodshot eyes, the facial ruddiness, and slightly bloated features. Of medium height and slight build, the Baron Palmerston-Wriothesley might have appeared somewhat boyish from a distance, but in close quarters, he showed all the signs of deterioration from dissipation. Sizing the man up, DeVere found the sum total wanting.
Lord Reggie deserved to squirm like the worm he was. Indeed, far worse. What he truly merited was to be strung up by his bollocks.
"You wished a word with me, my lord?" Reggie finally prompted, the lengthy silence having achieving its purpose. "If it is an apology you seek for my...er...condition last evening." He gave an embarrassed laugh. "I'm sure you know how it is..."
"To be carried home stinking drunk?" DeVere made no effort to hide his scorn. "Not in a good many years. It is my observation, Lord Reginald, that if a man cannot hold his drink, it behooves him to abstain unless in the company of those he implicitly trusts."
"Lofty words from one whose own exploits in debauchery are legendary," Reggie snapped back. "I was lost in the h
eat of the moment. You are a notorious gamester. Surely you have found yourself in a similar predicament—"
DeVere raised a hand and gave the man a dangerous look. "Don't ever presume to compare yourself with me. I may play deep, but I have the means to do so. And when I lose, I pay the reckoning. A gentleman never shirks a debt of honor." He retrieved a handful of notes from his breast pocket and slammed them on the desk. "Your vowels, I believe?"
"How do you have these? And why?" Reggie's expression grew thunderous. "I credited O'Kelly with more discretion."
"How I came by them doesn't matter a whit," DeVere answered. "As to why? To save certain innocent people embarrassment. While you can go to the devil for all I care, I won't have others suffer on your behalf and certainly not while under my roof."
Reggie's gaze narrowed. "I told O'Kelly I would get the money. I sent notice to the banker—"
"And thus, you forfeited your estate, your sole means of livelihood to that blackguard? An estate that I understand only came to you by marriage? What manner of jackass are you?"
Reggie looked like he would explode but managed a tight-lipped reply. "I find myself in a bit of a tight spot at present, but all will be well after the races."
"And so you would place your entire future on a stupid four-legged creature?" DeVere rolled his eyes heavenward. "The fool's folly never ends!"
Reggie's fists were balled by his sides, his eyes glazed with fury. "If I win the race, my problems are resolved."
"And if you lose?" DeVere observed his guest's agitation with smug satisfaction. At times like these, wielding his power was a heady sensation.
"Then I suppose I shall have to appeal to you for some agreeable terms of repayment."
DeVere offered him an icy smile. "You take much for granted, sir. My generosity is not without bounds. We are not kinsmen. We are not even friends, and your debt has already increased by twelve percent, though O'Kelly surely would have charged you twenty, his reputation for usury exceeding that of the Westminster Jews. If you are not able to settle your debt with me by the end of the day tomorrow, the only terms I will accept will be your property." His lips curved at what remained unspoken. And that includes your wife.
A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere) Page 6
