A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere) (15 page)

DeVere House, Bloomsbury Square, London

"It is officially
finished at last," Hew declared with a sigh.

"What is finished?" Ludovic replied from behind the pages of
Heber's Racing Calendar.

"The war. They have signed the Treaty of Paris. Though I'm thankful for the cease of bloodshed, this also means I am now consigned to obscurity and idleness as a half-pay officer."

He lowered the periodical enough to peer at Hew. "Perhaps you can clarify for me, dear brother, which part of that statement disturbs you most? The obscurity or the idleness?"

Hew returned a half smile. "The obscurity, of course. 'Death or glory' is the motto of the Seventeenth Dragoons, after all. Over half my troop achieved the dubious honor of the former at the Battle of Cowpens while I survived with little to show but a half-dozen scars and a limp. And we failed, Vic. In the end, it was all for naught. We have lost the war."

"Still, obscure idleness seems extraordinarily underrated when compared to a glorious death."

"Surely our birth order was some cosmic mix up or a freak of nature," Hew remarked with a shake of his head. He laid down
The Gazetteer
to sip his coffee and sift through the mail. "You've a letter from Ned."

"Open it for me, will you?"

Hew broke the seal and scanned a few lines.

"Well, what does he say? Is he already harboring regrets? If so, there's nothing for it now."

"He says little. Only that his daughter, Vesta, will be coming for the season, chaperoned by a female relation. He sends his regrets that he and Phoebe will not arrive until a few weeks later. He also asks if you will stable a couple of horses for them."

"Of course, and then we'll be expected to dance attendance on them, walking the minuet and driving in the park with little Vesta and her dragon duenna." Ludovic glowered. "Bloody fabulous."

"She
is
your goddaughter."

"And I shall wait on her accordingly. Damn but I still can't believe Ned made such a cake of himself over a Covent Garden actress."

"That would be Phoebe?" Hew asked.

"Yes. The besotted fool up and married the chit when he
surely could have enjoyed her without the leg shackles. The years spent in mourning and celibacy surely affected his brain."

"He has only a daughter. Perhaps he still seeks an heir? Speaking of which, d
o you never think of your own legacy?"

"It's far too early, and I'm far too sober to contemplate such a topic. I generally prefer a couple bottles of port before waxing philosophic."

"We are the last of the DeVeres, and you live recklessly. What if you had not escaped the Turks? What if I'd been killed at Cowpens?"

"Now
that's
a highly disconcerting thought."

"Precisely, Vic. You should wed. Just because one woman turned out to be a shameless grasping jade—"

Ludovic threw down his periodical with a scowl. "And wherever an ass falls, there he will never fall again."

"I indeed marvel at that, Vic." Hew beckoned the hovering footman for more coffee.

"That I have remained unwed?"

"No, that you are still an ass." Hew grinned. "Although yet an
unmated
ass."

"And that is precisely the state I intend to maintain. A man who lives alone is a god unto himself."

"And a devil unto others." Hew gave an exasperated sigh.

Hew was right of course. At six and thirty with vast properties and a healthy fortune, Ludovic should have settled down long ago, but following a jilt on the eve of his planned engagement, he had embarked upon a career of drinking and whoring from which he'd no desire to quit. After a dozen years, it was his chosen lifestyle: drinking, whoring, and horses, that was. Ludovic's one true, unwavering passion was his racing stud.

Hew studied him for a long, silent moment. "How can you wish to continue on indefinitely in this empty life you lead? You have an obligation, Vic. You should give the matter some serious reflection."

Ludovic tipped his chair back with a devious grin. "Actually, dear brother, I already have."

"What do you mean?" Hew asked. "You are going to take a wife at last?"

"No, dear boy." He chuckled. "
You are.
"

Hew gaped. "I can't possibly have heard you correctly."

"But I assure you, you did," Ludovic said. "You see, I
have
thought about my obligation to ensure the propagation of little DeVeres and find I am not the slightest disposed to it. Since you stand to inherit all should anything unforeseen befall me, I therefore deem it
your
onus to get the heir."

"Me?" Hew exclaimed. "You truly think to put this matter upon me?"

"I can surely make it worth your while."

"You would bribe me?"

"Let us call it an inducement. I mean to offer you a very generous settlement for your capitulation to enter the connubial state."

"You
are
in earnest then?" Hew met his brother's stare with a cool one of his own. "How generous?"

"I am prepared to assign over the Staffordshire estate, one of the most productive of my holdings, and to place another thirty thousand in trust. You must, of course, sell your commission. It would be inconceivably inconvenient if you were to get yourself killed before completing your end of this bargain."

"What of the
broodmare?
" Hew asked. "I can only assume you have someone already in mind."

"Surprisingly, I do not," Ludovic said. "I would not have you curse me the rest of your days. I shall let you enter hell by your own chosen path. I only ask that she be of good stock and bring a respectable dowry."

"A broodmare with a fortune then. You know they say there is no greater rogue than a man who weds only for money."

"And no greater fool than one who weds for love."

"Love does exist, you know," Hew said.

"You waste your breath."

Hew shrugged. "I hate to think you a hopeless case. Tell me, Vic, is there anything you truly care about?"

Ludovic considered the question for a long moment. "Horses," he answered. "I care a bloody great deal about my stables."

"If you weren't my own brother, I'd think you one heartless bastard."

Ludovic laughed outright. "Don't let the blood connection stop you." He then poured some brandy into his coffee and raised his cup in salute. "You already know it's true, little brother, and for the record, it's all the more reason I should not be the one to procreate!"

"Fifty thousand," Hew countered.

"Done." Ludovic smiled, resting in the secret knowledge that he would quite willingly have gone higher.

"I noticed the
knocker is up on the house on Upper Grosvenor when I went for my morning ride," Hew declared as he removed his gloves.

"I am well aware," remarked Lord DeVere while his manservant lathered his face and neck with shaving soap.

"Then you received notice of Vesta's arrival?"

"Not officially, but I make it my business to keep informed."

"Do you think we should perhaps pay a courtesy call?" Hew asked.

"I am devoid of your enthusiasm to do so, Hew," Ludovic replied in a bored tone. He continued while the valet stropped the blades. "I have already sent Pratt to convey my compliments and offer his services. As for myself, it is generally my preference to fulfill social obligations only when truly obliged to do so. I know it is inevitable, but it can wait another day."

"But they are two women alone in London," Hew answered. "Even if you do not feel it your duty to pay the initial call, I do."

"Far be from me to stop you then, brother mine. As for me, I have a prior engagement at Tattersall's this afternoon, and then I
am off to see to some things at Epsom. Care to defer the duty call and join me instead?" He raised his chin for the first swipe of the razor.

"No, thank you, but I'll be sure to make your excuses. When do you return from Woodcote Park?"

The valet paused to allow his answer. "I haven't given it any thought. Must you always plan everything?"

"It suits me to do so," said Hew. "I find a measure of comfort in routine."

"And I find it excessive tedium," said DeVere. "But have it your way. I should be back the day after tomorrow. We'll sup together then."

***

"There is a messenger for you, my lady," announced Diana's stony-faced butler.

"Already? But who can even know we have arrived?" Jenkins presented Diana a card on a silver salver. Diana took it up with a frown. "Captain Hewett DeVere?"

"Yes, my lady. He awaits in the withdrawing room. Are you at home?"

Her pulse sped and her eyes narrowed. "Is he alone or accompanied?"

"He has come quite alone, madam."

She slowly released the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. "Then pray convey that I will be with him shortly, and then tell Polly to send Vesta down as soon as she is made presentable."

Diana performed a brief but critical inspection in the mirror, pinned up an errant curl, and smoothed her gown before descending to greet her caller. He turned from the window when she entered, regarding her first with a look of surprise and then with a charming smile full of white, even teeth that drew attention from the deep scar on the right side of his face, now marring his once boyishly handsome features. When he strode toward her, she also noticed his uneven gait.

He bowed and took her hand in both of his. "Baroness," he said. "I am stunned. Ned said a female relation would chaperone Vesta, but I had no idea it would be you."

"It is because I asked Edward not to name me. To avoid awkwardness, you see."

"You refer to my brother?"

"Indeed, captain. I truly should like to avoid his company. It would only conjure unpleasant memories."

"But he is Vesta's godfather. You cannot expect him to shirk
his duty."

"I fully expect him to shirk anything resembling duty." She laughed and then suggested. "Mayhap you can stand in for him?"

"It would be my great honor to do so, but meeting him again is an inevitability now that you are both in town."

"La! I think not, Captain. For your brother and I surely dwell in vastly different circles. His reputation for debauchery extends even as far as Yorkshire. But I suppose you are right." Diana sighed. "If he were to take it upon himself to call, it would be discourteous of me to turn him away, but I beg that you would do all possible to discourage him."

"And if you should otherwise meet?"

She gave a noncommittal smile. "Then I will deal with that eventuality as the occasion warrants."

"You are all that is gracious, my lady… and as lovely as I recall." He still hadn't released her hand. Diana felt heat tinge her face when he raised it unexpectedly to his mouth, brushing it softly with his lips. "Our past acquaintance was cut short by tragedy. I can only hope you will allow me to renew it."

He studied her for a long, questioning moment. Diana had seen that look before, but while Hew, even scarred, was a handsome man, his deep blue gaze seemed a pale imitation of his
brother's. She hastily shook off the thoroughly unsettling image of Ludovic DeVere.

She retrieved her hand. "I thank you for calling, Captain. I am only sorry you did not have the opportunity to meet Vesta. She is a lovely girl."

"Then I shall call again at the first opportunity." Although he spoke in farewell, he hesitated, as if reluctant to depart. He opened his mouth to speak again but then Vesta appeared at the threshold.

"Ah, here is Vesta now!" said Diana, glad of the interruption. "Come forward, my sweet. We have a caller whom you must meet. This is Captain Hewett DeVere, brother to your godfather."

Vesta offered her hand and dipped into a graceful curtsey. Hew took her hand with a formal bow. "So you are little Vesta?"

"
Lady
Vesta, sir," she corrected with an effected hauteur. "I am now eighteen. Old enough for my come-out...old enough to wed."

Diana watched their exchange with a mixture of sympathy and bemusement. Although she desperately wanted to be regarded as a woman, Vesta was still so young, and awkward in her attempt to play the coquette. Of course she would be smitten
by the captain, for even Diana was not unmoved by his dashing good looks and fine manners.

With charming good humor, Hew chucked Vesta under the chin. "And no doubt you will charm them all."

"I saw you this morning," Vesta blurted. "On the parade grounds at Hyde Park."

"Did you now?"

"Indeed, you...I mean
your horses
...they were magnificent."

"I am humbled by your encomium,
Lady
Vesta. Do you enjoy early morning rides?"

"Indeed, I do!" she said. "I go every day, rain or shine, when I am in Yorkshire."

"Rain or shine? A horsewoman after my own heart then. Since it appears we share a similar habit, would you care to ride with me on the morrow?"

Vesta's eyes widened, but then she seemed to catch herself. "I
suppose
it might be arranged," she answered coyly.

"Delightful!" Hew replied and turned back to Diana. "As I recall, you also ride, do you not, Baroness?"

"Indeed, I do, but it's been a while—"

"You must join us then. Hyde Park is at its best in the early hours before the inane parade of preening humanity takes over.
Shall I bring the horses for you both at seven?"

"That is very kind of you, Captain DeVere."

"Hew, please, my lady."

Diana hesitated and then smiled. "Shall we settle on Captain Hew?"

"It is a beginning," he said with a gleam in his eye. "Until the morrow then, my lady."

***

True to his word, Ludovic returned from Epsom the next evening in time to sup with his brother. After indulging in five heavy courses, he beckoned for a refill of his wine and slumped in his chair. "I assume you've paid your duty call to Upper Grosvenor?"

Hew smiled. "I, indeed, paid a call and discovered to my delight that it was not in the least onerous. On the contrary, it was most pleasurable."

"Was it, at that?" DeVere look intrigued. "And how
is
little Vesta?"

"Vesta? She has quite the look of Annalee about her, pretty enough to take, I suppose, but a timid little thing."

DeVere studied his glass. "She's coming out this season. Comes from excellent stock and has a healthy dowry."

Hew raised a hand. "Rein back, big brother! I recall you promised me no interference on that front—choosing my own path to hell and all that rot. Don't think to match me with some simpering chit just because you desire an alliance with your best friend!"

DeVere gave a blithe shrug. "Simply pointing out the obvious advantages. Though you do surprise me by your description of the girl. Although I have not seen her in several years, I seem to recall Vesta as an unusually spirited child."

"The only spirit I saw was in her damned horse. I don't know what Ned was thinking to have sent such a high-strung mare with his daughter."

"What do you mean? I've seen the chit on the hunt. As a child of no more than thirteen, she was already taking fences with the best of them."

"Well, she nearly took the bloody hedgerow into Kensington Gardens this morning! The horse bolted, she lost her reins, though I'm not sure in which order. When I caught up to them, she was clinging like a grapevine to the mare's neck, and I was certain she'd break her own. I was in danger of a heart seizure myself until I plucked her from the saddle. She then fainted dead away in my arms." Hew drained his glass.

"You do not describe the girl I remember." DeVere added with rare reflection, "But then again, I suppose one should expect some diminished exuberance after the loss of her mother."

"I will say her present guardian seems to have done a remarkable job in assuming the role," Hew said.

Ludovic arch a brow. "You speak of the duenna? Was she not the dragon we expected?"

Hew chuckled. "Far from it, brother mine. She is closer to her namesake, the goddess huntress and protector of virgins."

His gaze narrowed. "You speak of Annalee's cousin, Diana? Has she, indeed, come to London after all these years?"

"She has. And I am delighted for it. Why so surprised?"

"After all that transpired with her husband, I thought she would avoid causing the resurrection of the old scandal."

"But isn't it all just ancient history now?"

"Old sins, even unfounded ones, cast long shadows, especially among the
ton
."

"But surely you don't think a woman like
that
should bury herself in the country forever?"

Ludovic fixed his brother with a probing stare. "You seem inordinately interested in the baroness, Hew."

Hew straightened his spine. "What if I am?"

"She hardly meets the criterion we agreed upon. First off," Ludovic began ticking off his manicured fingers, "she was wed for many years without producing any offspring."

"If rumors about her husband were true, one can hardly lay the blame at
her
feet."

"Nevertheless, she is three and thirty, if a day—a bit long in the tooth when considering a broodmare."

"It makes not the least difference to me if she's a few years my senior—"

"A half dozen at least—" Ludovic interjected.

"And she could still have a full dozen fruitful breeding years remaining—"

"There's the matter of a dowry—"

Hew set his goblet down with a decisive clink. "She has an estate—"

"Wrong again, Hew. The estate is on a leasehold."

"And just how would you be privy to all this?" Hew asked.

"Because I hold the lease."

"Damn! You bought that blighter Lord Reggie's gaming debts?"

DeVere inclined his head.

"Why would you do such a thing?"

Ludovic answered with an impatient growl. "Why must everyone always ask
why?
I do because it suits me to do. I do
not
adhere to the worldview that one must always have a
reason
for everything. You should know this better than anyone. Now as to the handsome widow, while I commend your taste, you would do well to seek your mare in other pastures."

"I'm not buying it, Vic."

"What?"

"Your dissuasion. I think there's more to it. You believe I'm poaching on your preserves, don't you?"

Ludovic scowled. "You know bloody well I have no intentions in that quarter, or any other for that matter."

"But of course," Hew said mildly. "For surely, if you had, you would have made some miniscule
effort toward achieving that end in these past four years, instead of gallivanting among the heathens and collecting concubines."

"Hang you, Hew," he drawled. "This conversation has advanced beyond tedious to mind-numbing. Can we be done with it now?"

"Whatever you like, brother mine, but inheritance or no, I
will
be seeing Diana again."

***

"What is it, Winchester?" Lord DeVere demanded, his black mood having refused to lift ever since last evening's confrontation with Hew. Damn
her
for coming to town and disrupting his peace! And double-damn Hew for taking an interest in her. He'd spent nearly four years abroad, committing all manner of debauchery just to get her out of his system, and now this?