The Devil's Match Read online

  Lord DeVere flicked an imaginary speck from his sleeve. “Your emotions cloud your judgment, Diana. Our history as you call it has nothing to do with this.”

  “I have not given you leave to address me with such familiarity, Lord DeVere.”

  He inclined his head with a mocking stare. “As you wish, baroness.”

  “And I have every reason to mistrust you.”

  “Do you, indeed? And precisely how have I abused your good faith?”

  Diana realized she had backed herself into a corner. She had vowed not to give him a display of the bitterness and hurt she carried like so much unwanted baggage and then had done precisely that. “None of it matters anymore,” she replied. “The issue is Vesta.”

  “Very well. Have it your way.” DeVere rolled his eyes with a sigh. “It seems that Vesta and Hew have embarked upon a short pleasure cruise.”

  “A cruise? You refer to an ocean voyage?”

  “I do.”

  “But how is such a thing possible?”

  “As you know, baroness, our mutual goddaughter is a young lady of high spirits. It appears she has taken it upon herself to spirit away the object of her matrimonial fancy—my brother, Captain Hewett DeVere.”

  Diana was stunned. “You imply that Vesta has kidnapped Hew?”

  “Just so. After administering a sleeping draught in his tea, she whisked him off to Greenwich where they boarded a yacht.”

  “A yacht?” she repeated blankly. “And just how would an eighteen-year-old girl come by such a thing as a yacht?”

  DeVere studied the ceiling. “As I am not in the least opposed to a union between my best friend’s daughter and my younger brother, I offered her any resource at my command to promote the match.” His mouth twitched again. “She took me at my word.”

  “And appropriated a yacht?” Diana collapsed back onto the settle with an air of incredulity.

  “Just so.”

  “She is gone to sea with no chaperone? This is outrageous!”

  “I told you she is perfectly safe,” he repeated in a bored tone. “She was escorted by my man, Pratt, and is under my brother’s care. You know as well as I that he would not hesitate to give his life to keep her safe.”

  “But she is ruined! Don’t you understand that?” Diana struggled to contain her fury.

  DeVere only looked bored. “Was not the entire point of coming to London to find some dupe willing to leg-shackle? If so, my brother is the ideal candidate.”

  “Speaking of your brother, don’t you see this intolerable situation gives him no choice, no recourse, but to wed her? Is that fair to him?”

  DeVere shrugged. “He had recently come to the decision to wed, and as I stated, there are various advantages to the match.”

  “Advantages to you, mayhap, but what of Hew? Is he not his own man and fully capable of managing his own life without your interference?”

  DeVere’s gaze narrowed. “Why so concerned for my brother? One might think you have feelings for Hew.”

  “What if I did?” she retorted. “It’s no business of yours! Besides, your abominable machinations have already destroyed any potential of that.”

  DeVere rose and came to her, perching himself on the arm of the settle. “My honorable and straitlaced brother could never satisfy a woman like you, Diana. He could never plumb the depths of your passion...unlock your secret desires.”

  His voice was low and seductive, and the flickering blue fire in his eyes heated her insides. Diana fiercely tamped down the smoldering sensation that threatened to reignite feelings she’d struggled to suppress. “And what would you know of my wants and desires after four years?”

  “A great deal.” He gave her a slow, confident smile. “Given that I was the one to unleash them.”

  Diana averted her face with a bitter laugh. “Thus you presume to have an exclusive claim to me?”

  “Has any other exerted one?” he asked softly. Nonplussed, he reached out a hand and traced a long, manicured finger along her jaw. “You are still unwed, Diana. Have you taken another lover in my absence?”

  “It is none of your business whether I have or not, and you are grossly impertinent to ask.”

  He laughed long and low. “I think I have my answer.”

  She glared at him, and thus they remained, silently challenging one another for an interminable beat. Then suddenly his mouth was on hers, taking, possessing, as if it was, indeed, his singular privilege. Diana leaned into him, teasing his lower lip with her tongue and sucking it eagerly into her mouth before sinking her teeth into it. Hard. Savoring the coppery taste of his blood.

  “What the hell!” DeVere jerked back with a cry. He touched his lip and examined the crimson stain on his fingertip, his expression a mix of outrage and bemusement.

  “You took without invitation,” Diana said. “It was a warning not to do so again.”

  “I have never importuned you. As I recall, you came to me.”

  “A mistake I shall never repeat.” Diana rose in a rustle of silk and crossed the room to pour two glasses of sherry. “As to Vesta and Hew, I have already written Sir Edward of what little I knew of the circumstances. I would recommend you do so as well. I daresay he will not be pleased when he comes to town.” She took a sip of her drink and offered the other to DeVere, who had retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket to blot the drops of blood from his mouth.

  “I imagine Vesta and Hew will be happily wed before that eventuality,” he said. “They should return in two or three days, and I have already procured the special license.” He accepted the proffered sherry. Diana smirked when he winced at the first stinging sip. He shot her a dark look.

  “You have quite a habit of taking liberties, my lord. Do you honestly think Edward will not mind that you circumvented him in regard to his choice of son-in-law?”

  “Ned is inordinately fond of Hew. Moreover, I have settled substantial monies and properties on my brother to ensure the comfort and security of his bride. I see no reason for Ned to object.”

  “Mayhap he shall not, but I still think he will not care a whit for the high-handed and clandestine manner in which this has all come about.”

  “You need not worry yourself about it, my dear. I shall deal with Ned upon his arrival.”

  “I rather think Edward shall deal summarily with you!” she shot back.

  DeVere flinched at her reminder of Ned’s last show of temper that had rendered him unconscious for nearly a day. He drained his glass and rose. “If you have no further questions?”

  Diana rang for the footman to lead him out. “No further questions, but I insist upon speaking with each of them before any nuptials proceed. I am certain that Edward would not have Vesta wed under coercion. Swear to me that I will have such opportunity.”

  He inclined his head. “On my word of honor, I will personally deliver them to your door as soon as they appear. Now if that is all, I shall take my leave. There are several matters wanting my attention.”

  “Indeed?” She arched a brow. “We wouldn’t want to keep your concubines waiting now, would we?”

  He smirked. “You ill disguise it, you know.”

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Your jealousy. There is really no need. I would be delighted to take you back into my bed, Diana. Indeed, I shall eschew them all upon your command.”

  “How generous to let me have you all to myself,” she remarked drily. “But your mind must be disordered if you think I still want you. Then again,” she continued in her acerbic tone, “given your adopted lifestyle, it’s only to be expected you would eventually suffer the same affliction as your fa—”

  “Don’t!” He growled. “Don’t ever presume to judge me or aspects of my private life you can know nothing about. The sooner you understand that, my dear, the better.”

  His body tensed, and his hands clenched by his sides, yet Diana refused to be cowed by his intimidating shift in demeanor. She lifted her chin. “And the sooner you understand I
have no interest in further dealings with you, the better.”

  DeVere took his departure with a mocking chuckle. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

  Chapter Three

  DeVere House, Bloomsbury, three days later

  Though he knew it must be near noon by the hideous blaze of light that slashed across his face when his valet drew back the heavy, velvet bed curtains, Ludovic nonetheless cursed a blue streak at being roused. Truth be told, he’d been in a damnable temper for the past several days—since he’d seen Diana. She’d aroused a fierce desire such as he’d not experienced in a very long time, and then she’d spurned him. Oh, he’d earned her scorn, all right, just as he’d made a life’s work out of tempting the devil. It was a game he oftimes played with himself, pushing away that which he most yearned for just to make the later attainment of it all the sweeter.

  DeVere groaned and scrubbed his face, inadvertently brushing his bruised and swollen lower lip, a tender memento of his recent encounter with the she-dragon. Ah yes, that had come as a surprise! He grimaced. Although he’d expected at least a showing of reticence on her part, he’d not anticipated the sting of a viper. Bedding Diana might not prove as easy as he’d thought. But then again, her newfound venom rather excited him.

  For this reason he’d chosen to dull his senses with drink, rather than slaking his fevered lust with another. Now he found the heavy drinking he’d turned to as a temporary palliative had backfired with a vengeance the moment he awoke, inducing him to further indulgence in order to alleviate his damnably excruciating headache. It was a vicious cycle, but one he’d become accustomed to—living large only to pay the piper. Still, he determined to lay off the Arrack punch for a while in favor of claret.

  “You wished to be informed the moment Captain Hewett returned,” the wooden-faced servant replied after having his ears singed by his lordship’s hangover induced invective.

  “Is he, indeed?” Along with his swollen lip, Ludovic’s tongue felt thick in his mouth, making coherent speech an effort. “And the girl, Lady Vesta?” he asked, taking care not to lisp.

  “She is arrived, as well, my lord.”

  “And how do you perceive the situation on that front?” Ludovic inquired of his beleaguered servant.

  “What do you mean, my lord?” the valet asked.

  “How would you gauge my brother’s humor at present?”

  “I would say he appears in exceedingly high spirits, my lord. Several of the staff have remarked that he seems almost as he was before the war.”

  “Does he now? Then the little virago must have succeeded,” Ludovic murmured with a self-satisfied smile. He rose from his bed and groaned, ignoring the proffered dressing gown, and half staggered behind the Chinese screen to relieve himself in the chamber pot. “Ensure the girl is attended to,” he called over his shoulder, “and then convey to my brother that I will see him at once.”

  “In your dressing room, my lord?”

  “Where else?” Ludovic snapped and then clutched his pounding head between both hands. “And bring coffee when you return, Masters. I require a great deal of coffee.”

  “Might I suggest a hair of the dog?” his servant suggested. “Mayhap a touch of brandy?”

  DeVere’s stomach lurched. “You’d best bring the whole damn bottle.”

  ***

  “Good afternoon, brother mine. You look like hell,” Hew declared.

  Ignoring the remark, Ludovic waved Hew to a chair and took a sip of coffee. He scowled at the cup and then sloshed some brandy into it with a trembling hand. He emptied it in one draught before returning the cup to the saucer.

  Hew raised a brow. “Rough night?”

  “The usual,” Ludovic answered noncommittally.

  “You know, you’re slowly killing yourself with this life you lead.”

  “I’m hardly in a humor for homilies.”

  “I just hate to see it,” Hew protested. “You are a man of considerable parts and still in the prime of life. A man of your station with your talents could do so much good, and yet you choose to waste it all on self-indulgence...indeed, on self-destruction.”

  “How I live is no one’s concern but my own,” Ludovic snapped. “Besides, I did not summon you to talk about me. I wish to know your intentions toward Vesta.”

  “Vesta?” Hew bridled. “That is a matter between me and her father. What right have you to ask?”

  “As her godfather, I am placing myself in her father’s stead.”

  “Really? That’s a convenient shift.” Hew scoffed. “I hardly think Ned would have condoned her recent activities or your complicity in them. You encouraged her to entrap me by imposing a compromising situation when you knew damned well I had no interest in that quarter. I could not have stated it more clearly—” Hew’s jaw dropped at the sight of Vesta in the doorway.

  Her face went deathly pale before their eyes. “I h-had come to greet my g-godfather...to share our happy news,” she stammered.

  Hew rose and strode toward her, his features contorted with a tortured expression and then stopped. “Vesta, my love.” He raised his hands plaintively. “What you heard... It’s not what you think—”

  Though her lips quivered, Vesta elevated her chin to meet his gaze. “I told you, Hew, that I would never have a man who didn’t love me. So I gladly relieve you of your loathsome obligation.” She turned to Ludovic with surprising calm. “Godfather, I have returned your yacht, and I thank you for your generosity, but it seems I shall have no further need of your assistance as I will be returning to Yorkshire with all dispatch.” With a swish of skirts, she disappeared.

  Hew raked his hair with an anguished cry. “Bloody hell! Look what you’ve done!”

  “What I’ve done?” Ludovic repeated.

  “Yes! Devil take you! She now thinks I don’t want her!”

  “But you just said you had no interest in her,” Ludovic pointed out.

  “Hadn’t as in past tense! I didn’t want the bewitching little termagant until I spent three days with her. Damn it all, she’s so full of life and vigor. She makes me forget all the miseries of the past. I realize now that I wasn’t living but only sleepwalking when I returned from America. Can you understand that, Vic? And now that I know the difference, I can’t do without her.”

  “Then what was the point of your little speech a moment ago?”

  “Hang it all! I only wanted to vent my spleen regarding your meddlesome machinations before I saw that damnable smug expression when I told you we were to be wed.”

  “Me smug? When am I ever smug?” Ludovic smirked. “But I think you were a bit premature on the latter part. It seems you’ve made a quite a damned mess of it now, haven’t you, Hew?”

  “Me?” Hew stormed. “I’m the bloody victim in all this! First, I’m drugged and kidnapped. Then I risk my life climbing a hundred-foot mainmast in a tempest only to subsequently be driven to contemplate an ocean dive—”

  “An eventful three days,” Ludovic interjected.

  “You have no idea.” Hew groaned. “Now I ask, would any man go to such lengths for a woman he didn’t adore? By some miracle, I managed to navigate it all without mishap but then not five minutes in your company, and all is lost, and I haven’t a clue how to repair the damage.” Hew gave his brother a harried look. “Damn you to hell, Vic!”

  Ludovic raised the brandy bottle to his lips. “Undoubtedly.”

  ***

  Caught between rage and tears, Vesta didn’t trouble to retrieve shawl and gloves before calling for the carriage. “Take me home, Mister Pratt,” she commanded.

  The jockey-cum-Man-Friday gave her a curious look. “What of the cap’n, miss?”

  “I care to know nothing more of him.” She sniffed. “Pray do not even mention his name again in my presence.”

  The grizzled little man gave a knowing nod. “Ah, that be the way of it, then.”

  “The way of what?” Vesta demanded.

  “A lovers’ tiff between yo
u and Ca—”

  Vesta shot him a warning glare.

  “A certain gentleman,” Pratt finished with a grin.

  “It’s not a tiff. It is finished. I won’t have him now under any circumstances.” She jutted her chin. “I only wish to leave this horrid place and go home to Yorkshire. Please take me now.”

  Pratt gaped. “To Yorkshire?”

  “Yes, did I not say so?”

  “When ye said home, I naturally thought ye meant the house on Upper Grosvenor, miss. Ye can’t think to hie off all the way to Yorkshire at the drop of a hat.”

  “And why not?”

  “’Tis three days. Ye’ll need money for lodgings and a change of clothes for your person, let alone a chaperone. I durst not take ye, miss. Not wi’out his lordship’s by your leave.”

  “Botheration! Then take me to Upper Grosvenor, though I don’t know what I’m going to say to Aunt Di after all of this.”

  “I’ll have the horses set to, miss. And by the by, my lady, ye might try the truth with the baroness. I’ve seen it work wonders on occasion.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but Hew arrived in the vestibule. Pratt tugged his forelock with a nod to the captain and swiftly departed. Vesta, meanwhile, gave Hew her back.

  “Vesta, please,” Hew pleaded. “You must let me explain.” He tried to claim her hand, but she spun out of his grasp.

  “You explained everything very clearly to your brother only a moment ago. I did not coerce you! I only took you away from Diana so you could reason more clearly, but I see how mistaken I was. I will never wed you just because you think you compromised me.”

  “I don’t just think I compromised you, Vesta. After three nights together, there is no question of it.”

  “Nevertheless, I free you of your obligation, so you have no fear of blemishing your status as a gentleman, Captain DeVere. Your precious honor remains intact.”

  “To hell with all that!” Hew threw his hands in the air. “I gave myself to you of my own volition, Vesta. I thought we had settled that. What you heard me say to my brother had nothing to do with us. I was only expressing my resentment of his underhanded meddling, but damn it all, let the ends justify the means. I need you.” He knelt by her feet and took her hand in his. “I love you, Vesta. You have given me back my life, and I don’t want to live it without you. Please say you will still be mine.”