The Devil's Match (5 page)

“Papa, how can
you
be so
naïve
? We live in the country, for goodness’
sakes! I have seen the stallions, the bulls, the pigs, the sheep,
the chickens, and even your own hunting hounds mounting and
rutting. Indeed, I think my knowledge of the subject is quite
extensive.”

“Dear God!” He raked his hair with a groan. “So
that’s the way of it. But whether Hew intended it or not, he has
despoiled you.”

“But we wish to wed,” she insisted. “So what
does it really matter?”

“It bloody well matters because you no longer
have a choice, young lady! It matters because I have been
dishonored, as well, by the broken faith of my best friend, who had
pledged to look after you! I’ll be damned if I’ll take this sitting
down!” He stood with a thunderous look.

“What do you mean to do?” Vesta asked with a
rising sense of panic.

“I mean to have satisfaction, of course!” he
declared.

“No!” Vesta cried, throwing herself to the floor
and wrapping her arms around her father’s legs. “You can’t do it.
Please, Papa!”

“Vesta! Cease these histrionics and unhand
me at once. I shan’t
kill
him.”

“Y-you won’t?” she asked with a soft hiccup.

“Of course not! For he must do right by
you. But my troth, I
will
have my pound of flesh.”

***

“Where the devil is he, Winchester?” Sir Edward
Chambers demanded the moment he entered the vestibule of DeVere
House. “I demand to see Captain Hewett at once!”

“I’m afraid he had some business at Horse Guards
this morning and has not yet returned,” the majordomo replied.

“And DeVere? He has much to account for as
well.”

“My lord has not yet risen, Sir Edward.”

“Still lazing in bed, is he? It’s nearly
noon!”

“My lord keeps unconventional hours,” the
deadpan retainer explained.

“Then I shall just have to pull his conniving
arse from the bed myself!” Before the servant could protest, Ned
bound up the stairs two at a time. Barreling past DeVere’s gaping
valet, he barged into the bedchamber, pausing only long enough for
his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness within. He scanned the
contents of the room and grinned when his gaze lit on the wash
basin and pitcher. Taking up the latter, he drew back the bed
curtains and poured the contents over the slumbering viscount,
while the valet who had followed jerked open the window drapes to
allow the full blast of sunshine to bombard the darkened room.

Accosted simultaneously with water and daylight,
DeVere bolted upright blinking wildly and spewing a mouthful of
curses. “What the bloody hell!” He looked up at Ned glowering down
at him, arms across his chest. “Ned, it is at last? Damn well took
you long enough. I had expected you yesterday.”

“Hang you, DeVere! I bloody well exhausted
a half-dozen horses getting here and left my new bride alone and
pining for me in my bed. I am
not
a happy man. You have some serious explaining to do, my
friend. I mean to know without delay, distortion, or dissimulation
what is this business between
your
brother and
my
daughter?”

“Good God, Ned! Can’t a man even gather his wits
before you begin the harangue? At least let me cover my arse.”

“I’ll grant you a moratorium of ten minutes,
DeVere.” Ned fixed him with a menacing glare. “No more, or I’ll be
dragging you through the streets bare arsed by your bollocks. I’ll
be waiting in that so-called library of yours.”

“I take exception to that, Ned.” DeVere looked
affronted. “Some of those books are priceless. I happen to have the
finest collection of erotology in London.”

“As if you need more fodder for your already
debauched mind,” Ned jibed. “Ten minutes, DeVere. In the library.”
Ned subconsciously massaged the knuckles of his right hand. “And it
will bode ill for Hew if I happen to find him first.”

***

Given his own painful history with Ned’s fists,
Ludovic decided he’d much prefer to be a fly on the proverbial wall
when Ned caught up with Hew, instead of becoming the recipient of
the yet-caged fury. Waving away his valet, he splashed his own face
with water, threw on a banyan—rather than taking the time to fully
dress—and padded barefoot to his library. He observed that Ned had
already helped himself to a bottle of Madeira.

“Aren’t you drinking rather early for one of
your abstemious inclinations?” Ludovic asked.

Ned’s air was only slightly less ominous than
before. “I thought I might find it a pacifying influence, but it
doesn’t seem to be working. I’m still ready to pummel both of you.
Now tell me what the devil has transpired in the single fortnight
since I sent my daughter to London with the simple request that you
look after her.”

To Ludovic’s inexpressible delight, Hew chose
that precise moment to enter the library.

“Sir Edward,” he approached Ned with an
unusually formal bow. “I am glad to see you arrived safely.”

“At the moment you might be.” Ned spoke drily.
“But when I am through with you, you might wish I’d been beset upon
by brigands.”

Hew flushed the color of his uniform. “You have
every right to be incensed, Sir Edward. I can only beg your
forgiveness for any damage I might have caused to your family’s
good name and your indulgence that I might offer a thorough
explanation.”

Ned settled back in his chair, grim-faced. “Very
well, then. Proceed to explain to me exactly how and why you went
about compromising the virtue of my eighteen-year-old
daughter.”

Ludovic interrupted with an impatient huff.
“Ned, did you not send Vesta to town to find a husband?”

“I only sent her for her come-out, for an
introduction to society. She is far too young to wed.”

“Yet you and Annalee were no older,” Ludovic
argued.

“It’s not that simple, and you know it!” Ned
growled.

“Bollocks! It is
exactly
the same. Vesta set her cap for Hew and
then contrived an exceedingly clever scheme to have him. Hew was at
first unaware of her affections, but after three days on shipboard
together, he became equally enamored. Thus, nature simply took its
course.”

Ludovic watched warily as Ned slammed a fist
against his own palm and winced at the distinctive sound of flesh
on flesh. It was an unsubtle reminder of his own late experience
with Ned’s fists. “You are her godfather, damn it!” Ned shouted.
“You were supposed to protect her! To look after her
interests.”

“And I did precisely that,” Ludovic argued. “You
have known Hew most of his life. Can you honestly picture a more
respectable and upstanding husband for Vesta? Had Hew demurred, I
may have taken the scheming, little baggage myself.”

“The hell you would! I’d see you hanged first,
DeVere. Indeed, I’d delight in doing the honors myself!” Ned’s face
was flushed, and his chest rose markedly with every intake of
breath.

With the threat of violence looming, Hew
stepped boldly between them. “While I appreciate your brotherly
sentiments, Vic, I
can
and
will
speak for
myself. Sir Edward, while I regret the manner in which our hasty
courtship came about, please believe that I care deeply for Vesta
and only wish her happiness. I have every reason to believe she
desires the match as much as I do, but I am also aware that she is
not of an age to decide these things for herself.”

“Damned right!” Ned declared. “She’s not ready
by half!”

“Although I have little choice but to abide by
your decision in this matter, please believe neither of us will
change our mind.”

“You would not try to circumvent me and
elope?”

“No, Sir Edward. It would not be my wish to
begin our life together in such a disreputable manner.”

Ned’s scowl seemed to soften. “I know she could
do far worse than you, Hew, but I won’t have talk. If you wish to
proceed, from this moment on you must pay your address with fitting
propriety. I won’t have my only child wed in a suspiciously
slapdash manner.”

“But what if...” Hew colored.

Ned raised a brow. “Vesta herself came into the
world a mere six-month after Annalee and I said our vows, but
everyone turned a blind eye. There will be minimal talk if little
is made of it. No, Vesta will return to Yorkshire with me where the
banns will be called and all protocol followed. Is that
understood?”

Hew nodded. “Of course, Sir Edward.”

“Then it seems only one item remains.” Ned rose
and cracked his knuckles with a malevolent glare.

Hew paled, yet stood his ground. “And what is
that?”

Ned flexed his right hand. “I am still much in
need of satisfaction.” Hew shut his eyes as if in anticipation, but
Ned spun around to ram a solid English peg into DeVere instead.

“Oof!” The blow stuck Ludovic’s midsection,
knocking him clean onto his arse, bursting the wind from his lungs
in an agonizing gush. The world went black for an interminable
moment as he lay gasping in a struggle just to breathe. “What the
devil was that about?” he finally managed to choke out.

Ned tented his tawny brows. “Need you ask?
Regardless of your professed innocence, this entire imbroglio
positively reeks of you.
That
was for your damnable conniving and complicity that shall now
result in a merging of our families... May God help
me...”

Chapter Six

Upper Grosvenor Street

“Your father is right, you know.” Diana’s gaze
tracked Vesta, who paced her bedchamber, like a dervish in a
rustling, silk petticoat. “Haven’t you heard the adage—marry in
haste, repent at leisure?”

Vesta spun around to counter, “Or marry by
arrangement and be miserable all the same?”

Touché.
The point
struck home. “That was unkind, Vesta.”

“I’m sorry, but I know you were not happy
with Lord Reggie, Aunt Di. We all knew it. Did you
never
love one another?” Vesta threw
herself down on the bed and began plucking at the
counterpane.

“No. We did not.” Diana joined her goddaughter
on the bed. She absently toyed with Vesta’s curls as she spoke. “In
the beginning, I had hoped that affection would grow between
us...but it never did. As the years progressed, we came to live
independent lives, and I would have carried on that way, had not
Reggie ruined us. Yes, Vesta, I was unhappy in my marriage, but I
was still a dutiful wife.”

Diana was careful to avoid the word “faithful.”
While she certainly had regrets about the past, she refused to
harbor any guilt about what had transpired between her and DeVere.
Time had only increased her resentment over his abrupt and
unexplained end to their affair, yet she was galled and dismayed to
discover her attraction for him had failed to diminish. If
anything, it had magnified. He was right, though she would slit her
own throat before ever confessing it; she did still desire him and
utterly despised herself for it.

“What really happened to Lord Reggie, Aunt Di?”
Vesta paused her nervous fidgeting to ask. “You’ve never spoken of
it.”

“Because it is vastly unpleasant to do so,”
Diana said. “He was a compulsive gambler, and when it appeared he
had lost nearly everything, he was found dead. That entire chapter
of my life is over now and best forgotten.”

Still, Vesta pressed her. “It happened at my
godfather’s country house in Epsom, did it not? I was not too young
to remember. You and Mama and Papa went for a visit and came back
early, but I never saw Lord Reggie again. No one ever said he was
dead. No one told me anything at all. I didn’t understand for the
longest while.” A moment of silence ensued. “How long did my
parents know one another before they wed?”

Diana was thankful the topic had finally
diverted away from herself. “I don’t know,” she answered. “A few
months maybe? They met at my engagement party as I recall.”

“How old were they?”

“Annalee had just passed her eighteenth
summer.”

“And my father was only a few months older than
she was,” Vesta said. “And you, Aunt Di, how old were you when you
wed?”

“I was seventeen.”

Vesta bolted upright. “A full year younger than
me!” she declared. “See how unfair you are all being!”

“But, Vesta, the circumstances were completely
different in my situation. My parents arranged the match—”

“To a man you just admitted you did not even
love,” Vesta accused.

Diana realized with a sigh that she had been
outmaneuvered again. “But, dearest, we don’t wish you to rush into
something you may later regret. Sometimes our emotions lead us
astray, and what we think we desire most at one moment becomes
something that haunts us later. You must know we only care for your
happiness.”

“The only one who seems to truly care for
my happiness is my godfather!” Vesta sniffed, tears beginning to
mist her eyes. “Are
you
in
love with him? Is that it?”

Diana paled. “How can you even ask such a thing?
He is a vile man, nothing more than a licentious libertine!”

“How can you dare say such things, when you know
Hew is all that is honorable and decent! You did want him, didn’t
you?” Vesta accused and tore herself away from Diana. “And now you
hate him for choosing me instead! Well, you shan’t have him, Aunt
Di!”

“Hew?” Diana shook her head in bewilderment. “I
thought we were talking of Lord DeVere.”

“Lord DeVere?
”
Vesta froze, her hazel eyes turning into saucers. “You are
in love
with Uncle Vic? I surely
cannot imagine a more unlikely pair!” She clutched her stomach and
broke into a paroxysm of giggles.