Kathryn Smith (14 page)

No, he hadn’t handled this situation very well either. He had no one to blame for his current condition but himself. He didn’t have to follow her into that maze, but he had because he wanted to be with her. He wanted to touch her as he had and have her touch him in return.

“We’re a fine lot,” he said finally, breaking the silence in the room.

Both Miles and Carny chuckled tightly. There was still a lot of tension among the three of them, but nothing that wouldn’t eventually go away. They were friends, after all.

Carny offered him his hand. Devlin took it. “My apologies, Dev. I should have known better than to think the worst of you.”

Miles stepped up as well. “As should I, but she is my sister after all.”

Devlin smiled. “And my future bride.”

Miles’s gaze was piercing. “You genuinely want to marry her?”

“I do.”

Clapping him on the back, Miles chuckled. “Then I wish you luck, my friend.”

“He is going to need it,” Carny quipped, but there was something in the smaller man’s eyes that continued to make Devlin uneasy. He couldn’t help the suspicion that Carny was still jealous.

Despite Carny’s marriage and despite Blythe’s insistence that she no longer had feelings for Carny, Devlin couldn’t help but wonder which one of them she would choose if given the choice.

“I sincerely hope neither of you intends to give me a lecture.” Blythe flopped onto a pale blue silk-brocade chaise and stared at her companions with a countenance of extreme boredom. It was the only way she could get past the complete and utter humiliation she felt at having been caught with Devlin at such an intimate time.

Thank God they hadn’t been found a few minutes earlier. Now
that
would have been terrible!

Varya and Teresa exchanged glances.

“I do not think either of us is prepared to lecture anyone on proper behavior, dearest.” Varya seated herself in a dainty tapestry chair.

Teresa followed suit, taking the identical chair next to Varya’s. “Now, if you wanted to know how to act
improperly
…” The two women laughed.

Blythe’s gaze went from one to the other. When had they become such good friends? It used to be that she was Varya’s only real friend. Of course it used to be that she despised Teresa without even knowing her. The two of them had become friends as well. In fact, other than Varya, Teresa was the only friend Blythe had.

Varya’s expression sobered. “No lectures, but I would like to know what you intend to do now that you have been caught.”

Ahh, she’d wondered when they’d get around to putting her on the spot. Picking at the fringe on a cream silk cushion, Blythe shrugged. “I do not see that
I
have to do anything.”

Varya and Teresa exchanged another glance. This time, it was a tad more worried than before. So much for giving her pointers on improper behavior. The two of them had become paragons of propriety since marrying.

“But Blythe,” Varya began, “you were caught with Mr. Devlin in a very…suggestive manner. Surely you know how that could damage your reputation.”

Another shrug. “What care I for reputation?” But she did care, blast it all. She cared more than she wanted to. “Besides, ’twas only the four of you who stumbled upon us. No one else needs to know.”

A glimmer of concern shone in Varya’s dark blue eyes. “Yes, but what if it happens again and someone else sees you?”

“First of all,” Blythe defended, holding up a hand, “there was nothing to see. Devlin and I were not doing anything but sitting together with his arm about my shoulders. There was nothing improper about that. Secondly, we will just have to ensure that such a situation does not happen again.” Meaning they would have to be more careful. She’d just had a taste of the pleasure a man and woman could share, and she wasn’t ready to give it up just yet, no matter how dangerous it might prove to her heart.

Teresa laughed at that. “Oh my dear friend, we all say that and then it happens again!”

Varya nodded sagely. “That is true. Dearest, you must consider that if you are caught with Mr. Devlin again your reputation will be ruined, and if you do not marry him, no one else will want you.”

Blythe arched a brow. “I cannot believe the woman who
once warned me of the evils of marriage is now an advocate for the state. I have no more hope or intention of marrying than you once did, Varya.”

That was true. At one time Varya swore marriage was the worst thing a woman could do. Back then Blythe hadn’t believed her, but that was before she’d learned a few valuable life lessons courtesy of the Earl of Carnover. The first lesson was that women hang too much on the hope of getting married. The second was that a woman could be far more independent without a man telling her what to do. Blythe simply could not imagine putting her life, her habits, and her pursuits into the power of a man who might very well decide he didn’t want his wife running about in trousers.

Her sister-in-law appeared unperturbed. “I know very well what I used to think of marriage, thank you, and I was wrong. Marriage to the right man can be quite wonderful.”

If you love him and he loves you.
Blythe didn’t bother to speak the words out loud.

Varya obviously decided to get right to the point. “Has Mr. Ryland proposed?”

Good thing they had decided against having tea or it would have been Blythe’s turn to choke on it.

“No!” How she felt about that was too confusing to bother trying to decipher.

That apparently wasn’t the answer Varya had been hoping for. Her smooth pale brow furrowed. “Has he made you any promises, expressed any hopes for the future?”

Blythe shook her head.
Only to think of me whenever he crawls into his bed.
Devlin didn’t have to make her any promises. She wasn’t looking for any.

Although marriage to Devlin wasn’t a wholly abhorrent thought, even if he hadn’t declared his feelings to her. Making love with him whenever she wanted would probably be very pleasant, and he liked her just as she was, or so he
claimed. And it would get her Rosewood. Funny how that was on the bottom of her list of reasons to marry Devlin. At one time it would have been on top.

“No, and I have not asked for any.”

Now Varya looked completely and utterly perturbed. “Whyever not? You like him, do you not?”

Wasn’t that fairly obvious? “Yes, I do. Very much.” Very much indeed. How much, she had no way of saying, for these feelings were very new to her. Never before had she felt so comfortable yet discomposed with a man. Never had she felt both calm and anxious at the same time. It was as though they had known each other forever even though they’d just met. Each new discovery was a surprise and yet expected.

It was as though heaven had sent her the perfect man for her, yet she was terrified to believe it lest it prove untrue.

Lest
he
prove untrue.

“But I do not know if I love him,” she added. “Nor do I know how he feels about me.”

Poor Varya was good and truly flustered. “You do not know if you love him? Blythe, ladies do not engage in
intimate activities
with men they do not love!”

Blythe laughed; she couldn’t help it. “Oh, Varya! I think we both know that is not true at all!” Why, she could name several women who were staying under that very roof who were engaging in such activities with men they didn’t love.

Her sister-in-law flushed a dull red. “Regardless, it should be true for
you.
At one time it was. What changed you, dearest?”

Did she really have to ask, in front of his wife? Carny had changed her. Carny had opened her eyes to a world outside her romantic notions of how things should and shouldn’t happen. A nice little slap in the face that taught her that not everything worked out how one wanted it to.

She glanced at Teresa. It had also taught her that sometimes the person you thought was right for you was really right for someone else.

“I grew up,” she finally replied. “You were not in love with Miles when the two of you first became intimate, were you?”

If anything, Varya’s flush darkened. “No. I was not aware of the depth of my feelings when I married him either, but we were lucky to find such love together.”

“That is what I want,” Blythe informed her, “but I am practical enough to realize that not everyone is lucky enough to find such love in their life, and I will be damned if I will spend my whole life waiting for something that might never come. I will take whatever happiness comes my way now.”

It sounded crude and harsh and cold, but she didn’t know how to explain it any better.

She rose to her feet. “The fact remains that I refuse to marry for anything but the deepest love, and a few minutes’ folly in a garden is not something I am prepared to decide the rest of my life on!”

Her head starting to ache and her nerves frayed, Blythe turned to make her exit, only to find the door blocked by Miles, Carny, and Devlin.

Her silly heart leaped at the sight of Devlin. How much had he heard? Judging from the rueful expression on his face, he’d heard enough to know that she didn’t want to marry him. That she didn’t love him.

Damnation.

He turned his back on her and walked away without a word. No one else watched him go but her. Everyone else was watching her, studying her reaction. Did she look as bloody stupid as she felt? She had to go after him, but first she had to get past the sentries at the door.

At least Miles had lost some of his ferocity. There was no disappointment on his face, no damnation, just concern and
so much love that Blythe’s throat tightened at it. She might have preferred his anger to this softness—it would be easier to walk away from.

But it was Carny who made it easier for her to leave. His blue eyes were dark with displeasure, his mouth thin with it. It was all directed at her—not Devlin. Just her.

How dare he look at her that way!

“Don’t you dare judge me.” Her voice was low—lower than it had ever been in her life, and colder than a Scottish winter. “You do not have the right, no right at all.”

“You judged me,” he replied softly. He didn’t have to say when.

Her fists clenched tightly at her side, Blythe stepped up to him. Eye to eye she faced him. Were she a man she would plant him a facer so hard he’d feel it well into the next week.

“You hurt me. Tell me, Carny, did I do something tonight to hurt you?”

What could he possibly say to that? Either she had or she hadn’t. If she had, he would have an awful lot of explaining to do to Teresa. If she hadn’t, he was going to have to back down.

“No,” was his tight reply.

Without another word, Blythe turned away. She left the room without a backward glance. Miles didn’t say a word. That should have been her first clue that her life had been irrevocably changed by the evening’s events.

She didn’t have to go far to find Devlin. He was in her brother’s study—Miles’s private sanctuary—standing with his back to the door, staring out one of the many long windows at the darkness beyond.

“Can I talk to you?” she asked, her voice weaker than she wanted.

He glanced over his shoulder, a sad version of his normal smile twisting his lips. “I don’t know. Can you?”

His glibness was as amusing as it was irritating. Now was not the time for a grammar lesson.

“I am sorry you had to hear that,” she said, closing the door. “I was angry and tired of having my life decided for me. Of course I do not think of what happened between us tonight as little more than a folly.” Lord, all she had to do was think about it and she wanted to do it again! Perhaps that was the folly of it right there.

He turned from the window, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression was carefully blank, no hint of emotion anywhere. A soldier’s face.

“Folly,” he repeated. “Perhaps it was, but I don’t regret it.”

An invisible band tightened around Blythe’s throat. “Nor do I.” They were in agreement, so why did it feel as though she had hurt him somehow?

“Are you all right?” he asked. “No one said anything to hurt you, did they?”

She shook her head. “No. Varya and Teresa are merely concerned for my reputation. You?”

He smiled. “It was tense for a while. What concerns does Varya have for your reputation? No one else saw us, did they?”

This distance between them was more than physical. He stood just a few feet away, and yet it might have well been a mile. “Not that I know of. They played the ‘what if’ game with me. What if someone else had found us. What if we are caught again.”

Finally, his eyes sparked with interest. “What if we were?”

His question startled her. “Don’t you start too!”
Oh damn, damn, damn!
Could she possibly shove her foot any further into her mouth?

Closing the distance between them—the physical distance—Devlin took one of her hands in his, and placed the other against the small of her back. He applied the slightest pressure, and she began to move where he led as he danced her around the room in a slow, sensuous waltz that would certainly scandalize every society matron in London.

“Seriously,” he prodded. “What if someone else caught us together. What would you do?”

She shrugged. “Accept the consequences, I suppose.”

He guided her around a chair. “And what might those be?”

She thought for a moment. “Social ostracization. Nothing I would not welcome anyway.” Once a woman was ruined, that was it. Nothing else she did could ruin her any further, not really. Miles and her mother would hate it, but she would truly be free.

“You could avoid being ostracized.”

“How?” she asked with a smile. “Bribe our discoverers to keep them silent? Stomp on them?”

He chuckled as he guided her in a gentle swirl. “Miles expects us to marry.”

Blythe stopped dancing. She shook her head. “I beg your pardon?”

He gazed at her, his eyes filled with a softness and a determination she had never seen before. “He wants us to marry.”

Pulling out of his arms, she tried to stifle nervous laughter. “Did he threaten you?”

He shook his head, but he made no move to come after her as she backed away. “No, but he made his wishes clear.”