The Devil You Know (3 page)

er, his eyes flickering like a blue flame. Her nipples tightened,

contracting against her layers of muslin and silk, sending a tiny

tremor rippling over her. Without having uttered a word beyond

her name, the portentous weight of an indecent proposition hung

between them.

At once shocked and affronted, Diana withdrew her hand,

dragged her gaze from his and dipped into a perfect puddle of

silk petticoats. “My Lord DeVere.”

“So that’s the way of it,” he answered with a lift of a sardonic

brow and a twitch of his sensuous lips before abruptly turning his

attention back to Edward.

The way of it, indeed!
Diana’s frantically fluttering fan cooled

her face and hid her pique. She commended herself in having

quelled his lewd and insufferable pretensions, but still felt inex-

plicably let down in having been so summarily dismissed. In this

one brief exchange, he had made her keenly aware of the unan-

swered ache deep inside. It had been so very long since any man

had singled her out, let alone with a look of blatant desire. It was

as if he had unlocked a door, a secret portal to a hidden place in

her soul. It was both novel and terrifying, making her heart gallop

and her body tremble. Quashing these unsettling emotions, she

nevertheless found her gaze tracking DeVere’s every movement

as the viscount swept the frontage of the house in a grand gesture.

“So what think you of my new heap of rocks, Ned? The park

abuts the racecourse, you know. It was the primary reason for my

initial inquiry, although after I learned all of its infamous past, I

knew I had to own it.”

Annalee gazed up at the structure with a frown. “Infamous?

Whatever do you mean?”

Lord DeVere laughed. “My predecessor was quite a nefarious

character, but I will defer relating the entire sordid history un-

til supper time. Your apartments are already prepared. Will your

husband soon be joining us, Baroness?”

“For supper?” she asked.

13

The Devil You Know

“Do you expect him by that time?”

Diana shook her head in confusion. “But what do you mean?

He should have arrived here days ago. With the groom and hors-

es. Do you mean to say—”

“Your horses are safely stabled here, and a magnificent pair

they are. Your husband, however—”

“You have not seen him?”

“A number of fellows arrived with your horses but then de-

parted. I was not made aware that your husband was among

them. If so, I was denied both the privilege of an introduction as

well as that of serving as a proper host.”

“’Tis most peculiar he did not make himself known to you.”

A lump of unease began forming in the pit of Diana’s stomach. “I

can only hope nothing untoward has occurred.”

“Perhaps Hew can enlighten us,” said DeVere.

Diana pursed her lips. “Hew?”

“My younger brother. He has been overseeing the prepara-

tions for the races and surely will have spoken with all who ar-

rived.”

“Your brother is down from Oxford, then?” Edward asked.

“Just so. He would never miss a racing weekend if he could

help it. He’s a veritable centaur, you know, and it will be a battle

to get him to return to his studies. He has little inclination in that

direction to begin with and has been begging me to purchase him

colors. Though I’ve tried most strenuously to dissuade him, he is

hell-bent to join the Seventeenth Light Dragoons.”

“’Tis a noble ambition, but none can deny the war is going

badly,” Edward mused.

“Precisely. He’s my heir and all the family I have left. Per-

haps you can talk sense into him, Ned. He has little respect for my

judgment.”

“Your own fault, Vic. You know you’ve done bloody little to

cultivate it.”

“All too true. Yet, it’s truly a marvel how immune my little

brother has been to my dedicated and dissolute example.” DeVere

smirked. “I have great fear he will be his own man after all.”

“I certainly look forward to seeing him again,” Edward said.

“You shall, anon. I will send for him. Or even better, why

don’t you and I take a brief tour of the stables? We are sure to

find him there.” DeVere turned back to Diana and Annalee. “Why

14

Victoria Vane

don’t you ladies allow my footman to escort you to your cham-

bers?” A servant appeared at a mere inclination of DeVere’s head.

“I promise, Baroness, your mystery will be resolved by supper

time.”

Diana smiled. “You are too kind, my lord.”

He gave a nod with a subtle curve of his lips, and then his

glazed flicked to Annalee. “By the by, a mutual acquaintance will

be joining us as hostess this evening. Unexpected but fortuitous,

as our pairs are somewhat uneven. Perhaps you remember her? It

is Her Grace, Caroline, Duchess of Beauclerc.”

Annalee scowled. “Caroline? You mean Caroline Capheaton?

The one who—”

The viscount cocked a warning brow. “Is recently widowed

and will be gracing us with her most
noble
presence.”

15

The Devil You Know

Chapter Two

After having shared a contraband brandy and an hour of con-

versation with Ned, Ludovic retired to his private apartments, but

to his consternation, his valet was nowhere in sight. He mumbled

curses as he kicked off his shoes and struggled out of his impecca-

bly fitted frock coat, fumbling with growing impatience with the

countless buttons of his silk waistcoat. Stripping off the layers of

velvet, silk, fine linen, and hand-worked lace, he was divested of

all but smallclothes when he finally padded into his bedchamber.

“There you are at last, darling. I had all but given up on you,”

a sultry voice crooned. There was Caroline, sprawled shamelessly

naked atop the crimson satin counterpane, her fingers stroking

the exposed curls of her mons. “I wondered if I was going to be

reduced to pleasuring myself.”

“Did you, indeed?” he asked. While his cock jolted at the bra-

zen and lascivious display, he was damnably annoyed at her im-

perious invasion of his private domain. “While I am not in such an

16

Victoria Vane

uncouth habit of keeping a lady waiting, I am also unaccustomed

to unannounced visitors to my bedchamber.”

“But don’t you love surprises?”

“Not particularly. Yet you seem to have a penchant for spring-

ing them.”

Her lips formed a sultry pout. “But what choice did I have

when you’ve neglected me so sadly these last months? I told you

London was unbearable. And then you left town without a word

when you knew I was about to come out of mourning.”

He had, indeed, been avoiding her. It was precisely why he

had left. With Beauclerc’s death, Ludovic’s interest had instantly

waned, yet Caroline had only become more demanding, treating

him as if he were her stud for hire. It was damnably tiresome.

He’d considered cutting her loose long before departing for Ep-

som, yet he preferred to wait until he had another prospect in

sight, rather than sacrificing his pleasure altogether. He knew he

was a selfish bastard, but he despised the thought of resorting to

professional women to satisfy his appetites. He had his noble sire

to thank for that.

“Where is my valet, Caroline?” It was an effort to hide his

impatience.

“Why, I sent him away, of course.”

“Did you?” He hid his displeasure behind a smile. “Upon

whose authority?”

“Why, my own. A duchess ranks far above a mere viscount,

you know.” She chuckled. “I confess it was excessively diverting

to watch your poor menial’s inward struggle when I ordered him

out.”“It is deuced inconvenient to disrobe unassisted.” DeVere

scowled.

“But darling, why should you be inconvenienced at all when I

am here to free you of your clothes? I am near perishing from my

hunger to get my hands and mouth on that magnificent instru-

ment of yours.” Her fingers trailed lazily over her smooth, white

belly to the mounds of her breasts. She toyed with her nipples.

They became instantly erect, yet his enthusiasm was strangely

lacking, proof positive he was overdue for a change in paramours.

He’d known it for some time, of course. Yet he’d been unmo-

tivated to take action until this afternoon’s arrival of the striking

Baroness Diana whatever-the-hell-her-hyphenated-surname was.

17

She was a delectable dish, that one. Voluptuous as hell, she had

instantly triggered his lust. He had yet to see the stamp of her

spouse, but the man’s attention to her was suspect from the out-

set. He had let her travel half the country without the benefit of

his escort and had not even notified her where he was staying.

Ludovic couldn’t help wondering if she might be ripe for the

plucking.
Stolen fruit is most often the sweetest, after all.

He had seen the brief frisson of reciprocal desire in her eyes,

yet she had instantly suppressed it. Right unfortunate, that. Per-

haps she was amongst that rare species called
faithful wives.
He

would have believed them mythical creatures had he not seen An-

nalee’s example firsthand. There was no question that both she

and Ned were revoltingly devoted to one another.

His cock stirred at the thought of Diana…and the image of

it sliding between the luscious mounds of her breasts. Yet here

was Caroline in his bed—the proverbial gift horse, writhing and

moaning in the full thrall of masturbation. Perhaps if he were to

close his eyes and enter her from behind? He retrieved a small,

satin pouch from the pocket of his breeches and unfastened the

placket to withdraw his semi-erect phallus. Taking it in hand, he

sheathed it in a thin layer of sheep gut incongruously secured

with a blue satin riband.

Noting his preventive measures, Caroline’s eyes narrowed.

“Why must you always use such a device?”

“Out of care for my health…as well as your own,” he an-

swered.

She sat upright, lips curved in distaste. “You suspect I carry

disease?
”

“I suspect nothing. But I know for fact you have other lov-

ers, some of whom are far less fastidious than me. But if my pref-

erence for armor offends you, my sweet, I can surely eliminate

my own discomfort.” Taking his stiffened cock in hand, he fisted

himself with several hard, fast strokes. His brief actions swiftly

brought him to full length and breadth. He heard her intake of

breath. He saw her pupils flare in eyes widened in fascination and

desire. She licked her lips.

His own twitched. “Do I detect a change of heart, my pet?”

She glared in outraged capitulation. “Come and fuck me, you

bastard!”

18

Victoria Vane

With a laugh, Ludovic flipped Caroline onto her stomach, a

position that would muffle her voice. He then closed his eyes, en-

visioned Diana beneath him, and plunged deeply into her.

Diana and Annalee w
***

ere swiftly and efficiently settled in sep-

arate en-suite apartments in the west wing. Diana could hardly

contain her awe at accommodations that were commodious and

breathtaking in opulence, with furnishings of damask and gilt,

and elaborately plaster-worked ceilings complete with silk cover-

ings on the wainscoted walls. She noted with particular pleasure

the French doors opening to a balcony overlooking a magnificent

parterre garden and ornamental fountain.

Edward was right. If this was only Viscount DeVere’s retreat,

he certainly suffered from no dearth of fortune. For no particular

reason, Diana found herself overcome with curiosity about the

man. He must be about thirty and had never married; that much

she knew from Annalee. And who was this duchess? Her instincts

already told her there was a story even before DeVere had cut An-

nalee off. She tried to shake it off as none of her business, and yet...

A soft knock sounded on the door before Diana’s abigail

peered inside. “Is there aught that you need, my lady? Do you

wish to refresh yourself?”

“At present, I wish more than anything to escape the blasted

confines of my stays!” Diana said. “I’d also love a brief repose fol-

lowed by a hip bath, if that can be easily managed.”

“There is one already prepared in the adjoining dressing

chamber, milady, and hot water on the way. The lady duchess

desires to take particular care of his lordship’s guests.”

“Does she? Then I shall take particular care to thank Her

Grace.”

The maid, already at work unlacing her gown, paused. “Have

you met the duchess before, my lady?”

“No. I have not. Although I understand that Lady Annalee

has some acquaintance with her.” Diana’s curiosity was roused by

the maid’s manner. “Is there a particular reason you ask, Polly?”

Helping to strip away the layers of bodice and petticoats, the

maid replied in a conspiratorial whisper. “Word from the servants

here, milady, is that the duchess is no better than she ought to be.