She drew strength from his firm voice and admonished herself for any ridiculous hesitation on her part; at once remembering Phineas’s comments and Tillie’s entreaty to remain strong.
“No, truly, I am quite all right.”
She accepted the champagne he garnered from a passing tray and took a sip, then another. Let the ton stare and speculate. Their judgemental fickleness meant very little.
She spotted Julia across the room surrounded by a bevy of men and women, their laughter evident in their joyful expressions, although the noise in the room prevented her from hearing the conversation. A few gentlemen to whom she’d been initially introduced at the Fenhurst affair were included in Julia’s circle of friends. Alexandra wondered if they would ask for a dance. Currently only Devlin’s name filled a slot on her card, the other nine blank. The uneasy thought caused her to search for Phin’s familiar face but he was nowhere to be found.
An elderly gentleman approached and Devlin initiated introductions. Lord Hasselby, a dashing man with grey hair and a large moustache asked for a bit of Devlin’s time and he readily agreed. The thought of being left adrift in the sea of people without her anchor, her handsome rock of strength, caused her stomach to twist, but she could not deny Devlin the opportunity. Perhaps if the other guests, the overtly interested and exorbitantly preoccupied gossips, saw Lord Hasselby welcome Devlin, the finger-pointing and tongue-wagging might cease. Or at least, lessen. Devlin squeezed her hand in reassurance before he walked away, and as Alexandra watched the two men fade into the crowd she wondered exactly what the evening held in store.
Ensconced in the privacy of Hasselby’s library, Devlin eyed the elderly man as he inclined his head in the direction of a burdened mahogany console table beside an overstocked bookcase.
“Brandy? Cigar?”
“No, thank you.” Hasselby closed the double doors and poured himself a healthy portion as Devlin skimmed his eyes around the perimeter. A huge fire blazed in the hearth and every settee, chair and sofa stood piled with articles of interest or pieces of some type of collection. Had he been interested in a seat and refreshment, it would prove a challenge to find a path to them. From their brief interactions over the years, Devlin surmised Hasselby to be a vainglorious sort, and by note of the framed documents that littered the room, the token collections of every variety, his suspicions were confirmed. “I need to return to the ballroom. Why have you asked me here?” Damn if he wouldn’t feel more comfortable beside Lexi, no matter the gossipmongers and their bitter lies. Lexi embodied the stark honesty of everything good. He would allow no one to harm her, or take away the joy of the evening. And, too, despite the hundreds of guests crowding the ballroom, he could not feel more uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Hasselby’s stare.
“Can we please get on with this?” Devlin’s voice broke through the silence and caught Hasselby’s attention. The uneasy tension notched higher and Devlin fisted his hands at his sides. He needed to return to Lexi. Hasselby’s voice intruded on the comforting thought.
“I am surprised and pleased you accepted my invitation, Wharncliffe. There have been others over the years, yet you’ve ignored each one. Now, I have the opportunity to speak to you concerning your parents. It is a discussion long overdue.”
Devlin raised his hand in signal to stop. He had no desire to hear Hasselby recounting tales of his past. Neither a tired reiteration of the facts supplied by his solicitors in response to his enquiries nor a newer version of the same story could spark his interest. He no longer wished to know. And with certainty, he did not want to learn untowards news tonight, when he desired a splendid evening with Lexi.
“I’ve initiated enquiries over the years and have heard it all. You mistake my interest in acceptance of your invitation if you ask me in here to repeat the same. Furthermore, a conversation this evening is misplaced.” Whether anger singed his tone or simple self-preservation, Devlin’s steely warning gave Hasselby pause.
The man nodded his head before responding. “Perhaps you are right, although I remain certain the story I mean to share is not one you have heard repeated. I thwarted many of your attempts to uncover the truth. I supplied those you sent to ask questions with deliberate falsehoods and inflected my influence to call an end to their enquiries. At the time, it proved necessary.”
Anger sparked white hot. Devlin unclenched his fists at his sides with deliberate intention. He was unprepared for the flood of conflicted emotions Hasselby’s words aroused and he didn’t trust himself to speak until he tamped down his fury and harnessed the immediate thought that chanted he pummel the man.
A subtle knock sounded and Hasselby addressed a servant through a crack in the library doors. “You are correct. This conversation would be better served at a different time and place. I will leave that up to you, Wharncliffe, but consider carefully what I have to say. It may not be what you expect.” He paused a moment longer. “If you will excuse me, I am needed in the front hall.”
He did not wait for a reply and left the room on the heels of his concluding comments. Devlin strode across the room to the library terrace and exited, the bracing night air a welcomed balm. Few stars lit the dark night. A long buried vehemence, one of anger and mistrust, rose unbidden with Hasselby’s bald admittance of having inveigled his attempts to discover the truth of his past. A vision of Lexi, painfully beautiful in her evening gown, stabbed at his already broken heart. Damnation, he was so close to finally experiencing peace with his history and building a promise for the future, why would he choose to delve into secrets that likely offered little in the end? Yet Hasselby’s determination to seek him out and supply answers ignited the smallest flicker of hope to a flame snuffed long ago. If he ignored this opportunity, would he make yet another mistake in the long list that comprised his past?
Alexandra had a great deal to learn about the ton. When Hasselby approached Devlin, a new wave of speculation as to whether her duke was being ousted from the event or drawn out for some other reason ignited the smouldering rumours. She shrank deeper into the tapestry and found a concealing corner. She was a coward, without a doubt, but another moment amidst the condescending glares sent in her direction threatened to overwhelm her.
She calmed slowly and after a severe reprimand to her constitution, took a step forward, Julia only an arm’s length away. At the sight of her friend’s pleasant smile, she exhaled in relief, grateful for the fortification Julia’s presence offered.
“I thought I saw you through the crowd, but I truly could not tell. Are you trying to hide back there?”
Julia’s cheerful teasing was just the thing to ease Alexandra’s reservations. “No, I paused to take this all in, although I am happy to see you. Can you believe how many people are here?”
“I told you Hasselby’s is ridiculously crowded and absolutely essential to attend.” Julia clasped her gloved hands together and her smile widened. “You look beautiful. I adore the colour of your gown and, my goodness, you are dripping in diamonds.”
Julia’s vociferous disposition proved to soothe the remainder of Alexandra’s wariness and they moved towards the refreshment table in search of champagne. They’d almost reached the table when she was caught unaware by an elderly woman who stalled her with a firm touch to her arm.
“I realize you know few people in attendance so I will take it upon myself to warn you. Be careful with whom you choose to become entangled. A history of madness is not to be taken lightly.” The rude dowager feigned a hushed tone, yet it was clear by her loud declaration she intended as many guests as possible to hear her utterance.
Alexandra pulled her arm free, anxious to respond to the unbidden warning. “That’s a terrible thing to say. You don’t even know of what you speak.”
The dowager appeared unaffected by the admonishment and Alexandra turned to Julia who pushed through the fast growing crowd to return to her side. Julia stood ready to support her no matter what transpired, although Alexandra needed no reinforcements to defend
the honesty of her heart. But did she care to create a scene and further fuel the hypocrisy?
“Julia, let’s just walk away. I have no desire to reinforce the distorted image bandied about in reference to Devlin.” She presented a composed appearance, but inside she tremored with anger. How dare the haute ton exaggerate and distort the truth? She brought her trembling hand to her cheek in comfort and her fingers inadvertently brushed her diamond earring. No, she was here to enjoy herself, to enjoy her waltz with Devlin. She would not let the past destroy their future.
Still as they turned to leave, Alexandra took a deliberate step backwards and bumped the elbow of the outspoken gossipmongers. She glanced over her shoulder with a small smile of triumph as the old dowager dabbed in frantic panic at the red wine stain spreading across her bodice.
“Let’s take some air.” Julia led the way through the crowd and Alexandra followed as they made their way in a direct line for the terrace. Twice she matched eyes with a gentleman from the Fenhurst affair only to see him avert his gaze in another direction. Perhaps they too believed the ridiculous untruths that circulated the room. She glanced at her empty dance card. So much for a night full of dancing. Foolish girl, her heart chided, there is only one man that holds your attention. But where is he?
The third musical number began and a gentleman claimed Julia for the dance before they accomplished their goal of the balcony. As she watched her friend move gracefully across the dance floor she sighed in resignation and slipped from the room to relish the reprieve offered by the tranquil night air. She hoped Devlin would return soon, although he would be hard pressed to find her now. She only needed a minute; just long enough to calm her nerves. She smiled at the remembrance of Devlin’s expression as he opened her gift. She had surprised him and the realization caused a grin. She sank back to relax against the marble balustrade and peer into the midnight gardens. Below her, two women strolled, their fans moving as quickly as their conversation. They stopped below the terrace and in the silence of the night air, their voices rose with ease.
“Whysoever would he parade that little strumpet around the ballroom?”
The woman’s bitter words revealed her anger as clearly as her scandalous gown displayed the goods offered for the taker.
“Do you forget you no longer have claims on him, Amanda? He dropped you quite promptly.” Her friend seemed not at all sympathetic to the topic, her voice bereft of compassion.
“You are right, but I wonder about this ridiculous situation with guardianship and if his decision arose before or after it. I haven’t ascertained that little fact yet.” She laughed, an unfriendly sound.
“It matters little. He has moved on without you.”
Alexandra considered the bluntness of the second lady’s comments.
“True and I will be happier without a man in possession of such a fickle nature. Yet I remain curious how Devlin, the Madly Desirous Duke of Kenley Manor, could ever be satisfied with some slip of a country girl? You can’t discount curiosity, I suppose, although I doubt she knows how to please him and Devlin is a demanding man in the bedroom.”
“Oh, Widow Penslow, you are so very naughty, but then Wharncliffe knows that already, doesn’t he?”
Laughter chased the end of the conversation and Alexandra pivoted, anxious to leave the terrace, her stomach roiling in distress. She wouldn’t allow tears to fall no matter how quickly her emotions unravelled. With her head bowed, she made for the terrace doors intent on the retiring room. Instead, she almost collided with Julia.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you all over the ballroom. What’s the matter?”
Her friend’s immediate concern proved consoling and Alexandra nodded in the direction of the women departing below. Julia cast a cursory glance over the balustrade.
“Oh dear, I doubt you wanted to hear anything she had to say.”
Alexandra tried her best to smile, unwilling to trust her emotion just yet. “Perhaps we should just go back inside and chat with your friends.” She managed a wobbly smile, although Julia would never be fooled.
“Now that I’ve introduced you to everyone, they are your friends too. Remember that.” Julia moved closer, her face concerned. “Let’s share a few more minutes alone. It is too crowded in there anyway.”
The tranquillity did serve to relax her, although Alexandra’s heart ached for the abject censure shown whenever Devlin entered a room. It was no wonder he had dropped from society without a backwards glance.
“Julia, why does everyone treat Devlin so poorly? He told me about his mother’s sorrowful end and the state of his father. But Devlin is a different man. The tale is sad enough without society twisting the facts. Do you know anything else about his past?”
Julia sighed, her curls swaying with the gentle nod of her head. “That is all I know as well. Whenever I’ve asked my brother, he tells me in no uncertain terms to mind my own business. Phineas is a veritable vault with information.” She grimaced, regret on her face. “I only knew of Widow Penslow because some detestable woman mentioned it at my mother’s card party a few months ago. You shouldn’t let it bother you. I am sure it was meaningless.”
Alexandra managed a small laugh. “Perhaps. Does it matter anyway?”
Julia embraced her in a gesture of sincere friendship. “Don’t jump to any conclusions.” She pulled away slightly, although they continued to hold hands. “Most of all, follow your heart. It may very well be your dance card isn’t full because it is so easy to see you and Devlin belong together. Any gentleman with a whit of sense knows they do not stand a chance at winning your affection.”
“Thank you, Julia, you are a true friend.” An easy smile curled her lips. “A dear friend who is missing every dance on her dance card. You will appear to have no manners. Please go back inside. I am perfectly fine out here in the moonlight.”
And then Devlin appeared, his formidable size silhouetted in the doorframe, his appearance in formal wear just as breathtaking as when he met her at the foot of the stairs. Her heart skittered and her pulse thrummed to life.
He looked tense and a muscle ticked in his jaw, but as Julia whirled to bid him hello, his expression transformed into a façade of calm greeting.
“I’ve come for my waltz.”
Julia rushed past them and Alexandra hardly noticed. Her eyes never left Devlin as he stepped closer. He tipped her chin up with his forefinger and his eyes searched her face.
“Is everything all right?” His husky murmur was filled with concern.
“Yes. Absolutely.” Her tone revealed more than she wished, yet it was concern for him that made her throat tight.
“Has something upset you? Someone?” A sentiment akin to anger laced his voice. “We can go if you no longer see charm in the evening.”
Part of her wanted to leave, but to do so would be to capitulate to every comment and bit of gossip heard throughout the evening. She was made of stronger fibre. She shook her head and he gently squeezed her chin before he released her.
“So you’ve come to claim a waltz? I will have to check my dance card.” She managed the amusing quip although she was sure he heard her voice shake. She lifted the blank paper and retrieved the short pencil. It remained empty save for Devlin’s name and she tilted it in his direction as she spoke. “You may have this dance.”
He viewed her a long moment, his obsidian eyes a caress to her soul, and she read a promise there. Without a doubt he would stand beside her throughout the remainder of the evening. He took the card and pencil while she still considered the heated intention of his gaze. His eyes flicked down and his brow furrowed for a heartbeat.
“How am I to read this in the dark?” He made brisk strides to the hanging lantern on the other end of the terrace and turned his back to her.
When he returned a second later, he handed her the card and offered his arm. “Shall we dance? I believe I have this waltz.”
She glanced at the card and her heart thudded a heavy beat. He’d l
isted his name in every empty slot. “You can’t have every single dance. It will be scandalous, to say the least. Never mind two waltzes in a row. Etiquette dictates—”
“My darling, I can do anything I care to do. They already believe the worst of me, don’t you forget. Surely everyone in the ballroom hasn’t. Now kindly take my arm, make me the happiest man at this interminable affair, and dance the night away with me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It had been years, maybe decades, since he’d danced, and Devlin doubted he remembered the steps, but the two of them graced the parquet floor as if born to be there, their bodies communicating in fluid ease with the orchestra’s melody and on another level altogether, where no words or effort were required.
He swirled Lexi through a turn, her eyes aglitter from the abundant chandelier candlelight strung above, her dimpled smile evidence of her delight. For the span of a song, he dared to consider life as joyful and free were she to remain at his side and for ever in his arms. His future held him captive, perhaps in a prison of his own making, but he’d endured in the past for so long, he knew no different. Tonight, their waltzing uncorked a well of happiness that spilled over in abundance, saturating every corner of his world and banishing the dark recesses of his loneliness. Would he allow it to overtake him, or was the risk too perilous?
They danced every set and left the ballroom agape with gossip. Devlin relished the moment, and mocked the censure aimed to ruin their evening. It felt wonderful, exhilarating and altogether wicked. Exactly something a wildly mad duke would achieve on a whim.
Silence, heavy with emotion, overtook them as they returned to Kenley Manor. He wanted to tell her how much he’d enjoyed himself, how beautiful she looked, her hair a little mussed from their dancing adventure, her skin a little pinkened, but something kept him silent. Perhaps he did not trust himself to stop at mere words.
Despite his greatest effort, the entire time they’d danced, he envisioned them together in an altogether different manner, skin against skin, her sweet, sensual body beneath his. His mind soon became muddled, the steps uncomfortable to perform as his body betrayed him, but the image lingered and he clenched his fists now, in restless want of something out of his reach. He should have stopped his silent fantasies as he escorted her in elegant spirals across the dance floor, but he craved her closeness as much as he required food or needed oxygen.
Duke of Darkness Page 19
