A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)

by Vane, Victoria

  "I'm not buying it, Vic."

  "What?"

  "Your dissuasion. I think there's more to it. You believe I'm poaching on your preserves, don't you?"

  Ludovic scowled. "You know bloody well I have no intentions in that quarter, or any other for that matter."

  "But of course," Hew said mildly. "For surely, if you had, you would have made some miniscule effort toward achieving that end in these past four years, instead of gallivanting among the heathens and collecting concubines."

  "Hang you, Hew," he drawled. "This conversation has advanced beyond tedious to mind-numbing. Can we be done with it now?"

  "Whatever you like, brother mine, but inheritance or no, I will be seeing Diana again."

  ***

  "What is it, Winchester?" Lord DeVere demanded, his black mood having refused to lift ever since last evening's confrontation with Hew. Damn her for coming to town and disrupting his peace! And double-damn Hew for taking an interest in her. He'd spent nearly four years abroad, committing all manner of debauchery just to get her out of his system, and now this?

  "My lord, there is a young and unattended female to see you. She is a most insistent creature."

  "Is she, indeed?" He was immediately intrigued. Only lately, a pert Covent Garden actress had sought him out as a protector...only to subsequently marry his best friend. His smile dimmed. "What does this creature look like?"

  "Very young, my lord," the majordomo said with a look of condemnation.

  "Such censure from my own servant, Winchester?" DeVere laughed. "I'll be the judge. Pray bring the chit to me."

  The girl preceded Winchester into the room in a swirl of black cloak, throwing back her hood to reveal burnished mahogany ringlets and a startlingly familiar face.

  He rose from his chair with a start. "I'll be deuced if it isn't Annalee reborn!"

  "Then you have a poor memory, my lord. Her eyes were brown. Mine are hazel. See?" She stepped closer with an impish smile.

  DeVere felt the cloud about him instantly dissolve. He took her hand and bowed over it. "I stand corrected. Only Lady Vesta Chambers has such lovely hazel eyes."

  "I feared you would not recognize me," Vesta said.

  "You had best be much more concerned that no one else does." He scowled. "Where is your guardian? And what the devil do you mean coming alone to my house? No respectable young lady would be caught dead here."

  Vesta looked bewildered. "Why ever not? You are my godfather, after all."

  "But I have a rep—" He cleared his throat. "I have reasons, my dear." DeVere took up his quill and scratched a brief note before ringing for his servant. "Winchester," he commanded, "see this delivered at once to the Baroness Palmerston-Wriothesley at Upper Grosvenor, and then have my open chaise put to at once. The young lady and I will be taking a drive in Hyde Park."

  "Not Hyde Park! Please, Uncle Vic," she pleaded, "anywhere else but there."

  "Of course, my pet. London has many parks. Perhaps you would enjoy seeing the deer at Richmond Park? Even the road to Richmond is a scenic drive. The prospects from the new bridge and the hill are quite remarkable."

  "Yes," Vesta said. "It sounds lovely."

  "We shall go anywhere you like," he promised. He placed his fingers under her dainty chin and upturned her face to look into her deceptively guileless eyes, for he knew in his being that the girl was up to something. "And you will tell your godfather precisely what is troubling you."

  ***

  Vesta climbed into the chaise with her godfather's assistance. "Might I drive?" she asked as he settled himself and took up the ribbons.

  "I think not!" he replied.

  "I do know how," she insisted.

  He gave her a dark look. "You don't know London." His commanding tone laid the question to rest.

  They departed the mews in fits and starts with DeVere expertly maneuvering through the mass of merchants' carts, hackneys, sedan chairs, and private coaches comprising London's daily traffic until reaching Richmond Road where they finally settled into an even pace. Vesta seemed lost in her thoughts for the longest time, rendering only halfhearted response to the sights he pointed out along the way. After several miles, he drew up before the new stone toll bridge spanning the Thames with its magnificent five arches. They sat for several minutes admiring the view of woods, water, softly swelling hills, and downs in the near distance as well as the towers and spires of Richmond Village across the river.

  "This structure was erected only a few years ago," DeVere remarked. "I am told it is one of the recommended sights to see in London."

  "Fascinating indeed," Vesta remarked drily.

  "My sentiments exactly." Ludovic chuckled. "Since I am quite as bored as you are, shall we dispense with the drive in the park? Perhaps you will now tell me what it is that sent you to my door, Vesta?"

  "Must I have a reason?" she shot back. "You are my godfather, after all."

  He chuckled again, long and hard. "No, my dear, reasons are only for those beings with inferior understanding."

  She brightened. "I just knew we would be of one accord."

  "Did you now?" He grinned. "We have found but one topic in which we agree. Am I to believe there are others?"

  "Undoubtedly!" Vesta exclaimed.

  "Do you care to elaborate? Although it probably is best not to be seen alone in my company, why were you so insistent on avoiding Hyde Park?"

  Vesta plucked at her skirts. "Because they must not know I have spoken with you."

  "They?"

  "Aunt Di and Captain Hew," she answered.

  "Ah." He nodded. "And why is this?"

  "Because they would neither understand nor approve."

  He scowled. "Of you speaking with me?"

  "No, of what I speak to you about."

  He probed further. "And that topic would be?"

  Vesta bit her lip. "Aunt Di and Captain Hew."

  "Ah, but of course."

  Vesta exclaimed, "It's all wrong, don't you see? Aunt Di is lovely, but she's far too old. And she has already been married once! Should she not give others a chance? It's only fair, after all."

  "Undoubtedly." He smirked.

  "And Captain Hew, he is far too distracted by her."

  "So distracted that he sees nothing...or no one else?" he suggested.

  "Precisely! I just knew you of all people would understand."

  "So what do you propose as an answer to this dilemma, my dear?"

  Vesta wrinkled her brow. "I haven't quite decided. 'Tis why I seek your advice. I first thought about asking her to return home. It is my father's house, after all, but then who would I have to chaperone me? Polly couldn't do so."

  "Polly?"

  "My maid. Well, she's only a borrowed maid to begin with. So you see why that wouldn't answer at all."

  "No, borrowed maids are always an inferior lot."

  "Even if I found my own abigail, she still wouldn't be an appropriate chaperone, so you see why I can't send Diana home."

  "Indeed, I do. Have you another solution?" Her godfather took up the lines and signaled the horses to turn about.

  "I do, but it's a thorny one." She gave him a sidelong glance. "It would require the assistance of one with considerable resources, one who might be in harmony with my proposal."

  "Go on, my dear," he urged, now cueing the team into a brisk trot.

  "It's simple, really. If Diana cannot be sent home, then Captain Hew must be taken away from her. It's the only way as I see it. And it's purely for his own good."

  "Then you have only my brother's best interests at heart?"

  "Of course I do, godfather!"

  "And that would be..."

  "Because I love him."

  He snapped his head in her direction. "You are in love with Hew?"

  "Madly. Desperately. Passionately."

  "Does my brother know of his good fortune?" he asked. "Moreover, does he share your sentiments, Vesta?"

  "But how can he when he is blinded by her
?" Her voice quivered. "He hasn't even had a chance to look in my direction."

  "So in truth, you seek only to enlighten him of the treasure that lies under his very nose?"

  "Yes! Do you not see that this is the only way?"

  "But of course I see, my pet." She was a wily little wretch, he would surely give her that.

  "Then you will help me?" Vesta asked with a wide-eyed look that undoubtedly never failed to bamboozle tender-hearted Ned.

  He considered the question and then turned a brilliant smile upon her. "My dear, should I search the world over, I can't imagine finding a more perfect match for my revoltingly straitlaced brother, Hew. Moreover, I have considerable—some would even say nearly infinite—resources, all of which I am willing to unwaveringly place at your disposal."

  ***

  "Pratt!" Lord DeVere ran his head groom to ground upon his return. "I wish to know all about this misadventure in Hyde Park with Lady Vesta Chambers."

  The groom studied the toe of his boot with a crimson flush. "Cap'n Hew told you about that, eh?"

  "Damned right he did!" DeVere thundered. "Why didn't you apprise me of the incident? Did I not put the girl under your protection?"

  "That ye did, milord." The groom's shoulders slumped.

  "Then how the devil did you let a horse get away with her?" DeVere demanded.

  "Wi' all due respect, my lord, 'tweren't no accident."

  "The devil you say!"

  "Aye, my lord. There be no devil like a she-devil."

  DeVere gave his groom a piercing look. "And what does that mean?"

  "'Tweren't quite what the cap'n and my lady thinks."

  DeVere felt his temper subside. "Talk to me, Pratt. What really happened?"

  "Well, when we rode to the park, to my mind the wee miss was in a fit of pique, hot as her little mare she was that cap'n be fawning all over my lady."

  "Was she, indeed?"

  "Aye, my lord, a wee rogue wrapped in a pretty package is that one. I begin to think sommat amiss when she lost her hat. The cap'n and my lady was riding ahead, so they didn't see when she asked me to fetch it for her. ‘Tweren't really the hat what spooked the horse, as the hat were already on the ground. After I dismounted, I seen the miss throw away her reins and spur the horse."

  "Preposterous! That's damned reckless, dangerous, and altogether absurd!"

  "That may be, my lord." The groom laid a hand on his heart. "But 'tis also God's honest truth."

  "You mean the little wretch endangered her own life in a fit of jealous pique?"

  "Aye, my lord."

  "You knew this and failed to expose her fraud?"

  Pratt regarded his master with a plaintive look. "Ye should have seen the little vixen! 'Twere some 'o the best ridin' I ever seen. There be few men with the bollocks to do what she done. Mayhap Cap'n Hew be one o' the few. So ye understand, my lord, I hadn't the heart to peach her."

  "So you say the entire escapade was just a fit of passion because Hew was making up to the baroness?"

  "Aye. That be the way I seen it." Pratt nervously twisted his cap while he awaited the master's verdict. "Your pardon for the breach o' trust, my lord?"

  "Don't get into a lather, Pratt. I'm not about to dismiss you," DeVere said. "Indeed, I have a more fitting punishment in mind."

  "How's that, my lord?" asked the worried groom.

  "Given that you're already complicit with the scheming little baggage, I intend to put you completely at her disposal. From this moment on, Pratt, you are to answer solely to Lady Vesta. Not the baroness. Not Captain Hew. Whatever the girl's whim is to be your command. Without question. Without hesitation. This injunction is to be superseded by no one but myself. Do you understand me, Pratt?"

  "Aye, my lord."

  "Shameless little hussy." DeVere chuckled under his breath as he departed his stables, his former black mood utterly forgotten.

  ***

  "I can't imagine where she could have gone." Diana worried her lower lip. "We've looked everywhere."

  "It surprises me she should have ventured out alone, but I can't imagine she has gone far," Hew said. "She struck me as such a timid child."

  Diana regarded him with an incredulous look and then laughed outright. "Vesta? Timid? I fear you are sadly mistaken in your first impression, Captain. Vesta is a willful, highly spirited, and intrepid girl who has been accustomed to running wild since her mother's passing. I fear her father indulges her every whim, and I am as much to blame. It is all we can do to keep a rein on her."

  Hew frowned. "The child wants for discipline. Yet you chose to conduct such an ungovernable hoyden to London?"

  "There were circumstances, changes that made things vastly uncomfortable for her."

  The butler appeared with an apologetic look. "Beg pardon, madam, but a message is arrived from Lord DeVere's running footman."

  "From Lord DeVere?" Diana accepted the missive. She opened it with rebelliously trembling fingers, cursing herself for overreacting at the mere mention of his name. Hew strode to her side when she scanned the contents and then collapsed in a chair. "Thank God! She is safe!"

  "She is with my brother?"

  "Yes. He has taken her for a drive."

  "Then you know Vesta is safe."

  In only seconds, fury replaced Diana's relief. "That is small consolation considering the company she is in. Mighty high-handed of him, don't you think? To have absconded with the girl without so much as a by-your-leave!"

  "Yet he shows you considerable favor in having sent the dispatch." Hew gave a wry smile. "For my brother generally answers to no one."

  "He is an abominable man!" Diana declared with a scowl.

  "Inarguably." Hew chuckled but then suddenly sobered. "You were speaking only a moment ago of your reasons for coming to London. Am I to suppose it was due in part to Ned's remarriage?"

  "Yes. Vesta is vastly displeased about it. One can hardly blame her for being unsettled, given the suddenness of it."

  "I pray you would indulge my impertinence, but might I assume the marriage made you uncomfortable as well?"

  "Perhaps," Diana answered evasively.

  "You have feelings for Ned?"

  "Only of a platonic nature," she said. "I have known Edward for half my life. He is a good and kind man. I think sometimes had he asked, I might have been persuaded to assume a legitimate, rather than surrogate role as Vesta's mother, but now there is no longer a need. She is grown."

  "But what of yourself? Do you not desire security?"

  "What woman does not?" She laughed. "Yet, I have a home for as long as I wish and an income sufficient to my modest needs."

  "What of companionship?" he asked.

  "I have had that with Edward and Vesta."

  "And affection?"

  Diana briefly met his inquiring gaze and turned away. "Surely every woman desires all those things, Hew, but they are not always to be." Yes, she had once dared hope. She was a fool to have done so.

  "I shan't hedge any longer," he said. "You must know I wish to pay my address to you, Diana. I can offer you security, my affection, and utmost fidelity."

  "Priceless gems," she answered with a sad smile. "But do you not also seek passion in a marriage?"

  Hew's face flushed. "I would expect that to follow."

  "There you are wrong, dear Hew. Affection may spring from mutual respect, but passion can never be willed. It just is." She added softly, "Sometimes whether we desire it or not."

  "It's my brother, isn't it?"

  "What do you mean?" she snapped.

  "I know about the leasehold, but the rest was mere speculation until you opened his dispatch. Don't deny it, Diana. Your reaction betrayed you, and your disquiet disturbs me."

  "As you well know, my husband's death occurred at your brother's estate. It was all a most unpleasant episode that I have no desire to resurrect."

  "Please know it is not my desire to unsettle you, yet as a gentleman, there is one more thing I must ask—did my brot
her at any time importune you?"

  Diana felt her hackles raise. "There is nothing between me and Lord DeVere."

  "I see," he replied. And she feared he really did. "Pray pardon my impertinence."

  "Hew, you are all that is good and honorable. You have my greatest respect and admiration, but I have no wish to wed. I would never do so again unless I could give my heart. I cannot. And you deserve much more."

  "That is your final word?"

  "I'm a woman who knows my own mind."

  "Very well then," he said with a fleeting smile. "We will speak no more of it."

  ***

  "Vesta!" Diana nearly ran to the girl when she entered the vestibule. "Where on earth have you been?" She clasped the girl's shoulders with a stern reproach. "Don't you know we were worried sick about you?"

  "But why?" Vesta asked as she removed her bonnet and gloves. "I was with my godfather."

  Diana led her into the drawing room. "But how was I to know that? Moreover, how came you to be with him in the first place?"

  Vesta bit her lip. "Did I not say? He invited me for a drive."

  "No! You didn't say!" Diana retorted.

  "I'm so sorry to have worried you, Aunt Di, but I was so eager to see my godfather, and he has yet to pay a call."

  "I would strongly discourage him from doing so."

  "But why?"

  "Because you are in my charge and should do as I ask," Diana replied in a fruitless attempt to squelch the subject.

  "But he has a box at the Theatre Royal for us, Aunt Di!" Vesta protested. "It's for The Maid of The Oaks. By the by, I've invited Uncle Vic and Captain Hew for afternoon tea tomorrow."

  "Tell me you did not!" Diana retorted, her outrage mixed with dismay.

  "But I just told you I did! Why should I not? I am excessively fond of my godfather. This is my father's house, after all. Besides, you appear to have no objection to entertaining Captain Hew."

  "That is my own business, young lady." Diana sniffed. "Besides, they may be brothers, but I assure you the two are cut from distinctly different cloth."