A Deal with Lord Devlin (7 page)

“London,” she waved her hand around, “all the gossip and lies, it’s not for me. It never was! It’s why I left my first marriage. Somehow I thought if I could just regain my place in society I could find myself again. But I was wrong.” She stepped toward him, brushing a strand of curled hair back into place. “I was here all along, and you brought me back, James. I don’t need the rest of it.”

He felt as though something very heavy was sitting on his chest. “Forget about our deal, Charlotte. I don’t give a damn about the money, I just want—”

“Please don’t,” she choked, stepping away from him. “I cannot bear to hear you say it.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s the truth.” James wanted,
needed
to tell her he loved her. He moved forward to take her into his arms, but she pushed him back.

“It would never work. You are the Earl of Devlin, and I’m…” She broke off, her eyes filling with tears. “Let our night together be enough. Just let me go.”

“I will never—”

“James!” His mother’s sharp voice sliced through the air like a censorious blade.

“This isn’t a good time, Mother.”

“I happen to think I came at just the right time,” she snapped, her eyes narrowing as she took in his torn shirt. “In fact, if I hadn’t come looking for you, I fear you would have made an offer to this wanton whore.”

“Do you see?” Charlotte whispered, and before he could answer she ripped her hand from his and was gone.

“Think very carefully about this, James.” His mother blocked his way. “Your cousin won’t give us a penny if he discovers you are in love with his little paramour. You are the Earl now, and everything you do reflects the Devlin name.”

James had never before disobeyed his mother. But the anguish on Charlotte’s face was more than he could bear. He was in love with her and would bargain with the devil himself to get her back.

“To hell with the Devlin name.” He turned on his heel and left.

****

Please, God, just get me out of Devlin House.
Charlotte choked back tears as she pushed her way through the crowd. She couldn’t recall why she had ever wished for the approval of these cruel, selfish people. They didn’t care for anything except themselves and their petty reputations. But it wasn’t why she was crying. She had been hurt by men before. Her husband had disappointed her, Andrew had enraged her, but James… Her dear James, who took her into his arms and made her feel a passion and strength she didn’t know existed, had broken her heart.

He just stood there in the kitchen hallway and didn’t speak a word. He didn’t defend her in the slightest! The Earl of Devlin was no better than Andrew or the rest of them. In fact, he was the cruelest of all for making her love him first.

“Charlotte?” Someone grabbed her arm, stopping her just before she reached the entryway. Before she could protest, a strong pair of arms pulled her behind the staircase and out of view of the guests. For a moment her heart leapt. James had come after her!

“I’ve been hoping to get you alone.”

Andrew.

She yanked her arm out of his grasp and took a firm step back. How had she ever thought him attractive? Standing there alone with him, she was struck by how dull and colorless he was compared to his cousin. Sir Andrew Greenshaw stood leering at her like an overindulged peacock in his sky-blue waistcoat and lace cuffs that Charlotte had no desire to tear off. She suddenly felt immense relief that he had never proposed. A life with Andrew would have been no better than with her former husband, maybe even worse.

“What do you want, Andrew?” she asked, her tone deliberately rude. “I am trying to leave.”

“Without saying good-bye?”

She took another step back, but he followed until Charlotte’s back was pressed against the wall.

“Why would I wish to speak to you?”

Andrew gave a small laugh, running the edge of his thumb down her arm. “I understand why you’re cross with me. I treated you horribly, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” she replied, swatting at his hand as though it were a fly, “but I am well past caring. Now if you will excuse me…”

“You can’t leave me, Charlotte!” He seized her as she tried to push past him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“You have no idea what it’s like to be engaged to Francesca. She is so cold and demanding, not like you, my Charlotte.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have proposed to her,” Charlotte said tartly.

“You know I didn’t have a choice. My family would never allow my wife to be divorced.”

Andrew wrinkled his nose, and she had to resist the urge to slap him.

“I’m going to be miserable without you, Charlotte. And I know you’re miserable without me. Maybe we can work out a little arrangement.” He leaned in toward her neck, and Charlotte nearly gagged. His perfume smelled worse than Lady Devlin’s fruit sculpture.

“Once all this wedding nonsense is over, I’ll have plenty of time for a visit. We could meet somewhere discreet, say, every Wednesday afternoon?”

Charlotte couldn’t contain her outrage. “Are you asking me to meet you once a week for a tryst?”

“Would a Monday be more convenient?”

She had never been more insulted in her entire life. She might be a divorced woman, but she was not a whore. “You are the most repulsive man I’ve ever met. Sir, I wouldn’t be your mistress if you offered me eternal life.”

Andrew laughed. “You are too romantic, my dear Charlotte.” With a sly wink he leaned in closer. “Perhaps a little taste will change your mind.”

Charlotte’s shriek of outrage was cut off when Andrew forced his lips upon hers. Horrible man! What did he think he was doing? He wrapped his arm around her waist in the most intimate way, and Charlotte was both sickened and appalled. She tried to slap him away as Andrew’s fat hands fumbled at her wildly. “Let go of me, you imbecile!”

“Take your hands off her!” A furious shout interrupted their scuffle.

“James!” she cried, wrenching herself from Andrew’s grip.

“Devlin.” Quite shocked by the intrusion, Andrew immediately dropped back, one hand still on Charlotte’s wrist. “Good to see you, Cousin. I never got the chance to thank you for throwing me this engagement ball. Quite a festive night, isn’t it?”

“Your hand,” James repeated, his voice dangerously soft. “Take it off her this instant.”

Andrew turned toward Charlotte, who gave him an icy glare.

“That’s quite a threatening tone, Cousin.”

“It’s not a threat at all. I fully intend to break your jaw if you do not unhand the lady before your next breath.”

Andrew opened his mouth to reply, and James, true to his word, took a step forward and punched him right in the jaw.

Andrew dropped to the floor like a broken doll.

“James!” Charlotte’s mouth fell open. “What have you done?”

“What any decent gentleman would do. The man is a cad.” Stepping over his blubbering cousin, James snatched her into his arms. “And he insulted a lady in my presence. That, I cannot abide.”

“Come, Devlin, you are being rather stuffy, don’t you think?” Andrew bleated from below, holding his jaw. “You act as though the girl belongs to you.”

“She does,” James replied, his eyes never leaving hers. Charlotte’s broken heart began to beat fast against her stays. “If she will have me.”

“What about your inheritance?” she asked, glancing down at Andrew, “And your family?” The last thing in the world Charlotte wanted was a lifetime of teas with Lady Devlin.

“We will make our own family.” He cradled her face between his hands. “I have an estate in the country. We need never set foot in London again.”

Charlotte closed her eyes, inhaling the clean male scent of the Earl of Devlin. She imagined a life free of society, rumors, and men like Sir Andrew Greenshaw. A simple life with the man she loved.

“Yes,” she said, sealing the promise with a kiss. It was a soft, sweet kiss that might have gone on forever if Andrew hadn’t stumbled to his feet.

“I hope she’s worth a fortune,” he said with a nasty whine to his voice, “because you will never see so much as a shilling from me. Not you, your mother, or your sisters. You can tell them you sold out your own family for a—”

Andrew’s tirade was again cut short by James’s fist. This time to the nose.

“Oh!” Charlotte’s hand flew to her lips as Andrew sank to the marble floor. “I do believe you knocked him out.”

“Perhaps when he wakes up he will remember his manners. As for you, my love…” James held out his hand. “May I have the next dance?”

A word about the author...

Jennifer Ann Coffeen is an author, performer, and teacher with StoryStudio Chicago. Her other works include
Priceless Deception
,
Lover’s Gamble
, and the holiday short story
Five Golden Suitors
.

You can read more about her writing and life at

www.JenniferAnnCoffeen.com.

Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.