Let Love Find You (11 page)

“Then why would she say—never mind, just a lie, obviously, to explain his many visits late of a night. He
was
her lover! She sent me away because of him!”

“Devin, no, that wasn’t it. She sent you away because you were starting to ask questions and she felt you were too young to hear the answers. When she asked me to come get you, she told me what you mistakenly thought, and that when you were older, she would explain to you about your real father. I don’t know if she loved Wolseley, but I’m sure she loved your father. She never would tell me who he was. She was afraid I’d try to kill him and I probably would have. He paid for your schooling, you know. I could have done so. I almost threw away that anonymous missive that arrived, telling me your entire education was already paid for and the name of the school that was expecting you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I wasn’t going to spite you just because I hated him. And your aunt convinced me that it was the best thing for you. What you learned there and the contacts you made would allow you to move in the highest echelons of society. And to be honest, I felt he owed you that, at least, since he otherwise didn’t want to be part of your life.”

Devin still didn’t believe it, that Lawrence Wolseley wasn’t his father. His mother had lied to him. Why wouldn’t she have lied to her brother, too? All to protect that bastard that she loved so much she’d abandoned her family for him, her
entire
family. Someday he was going to confront Wolseley about it. But he wasn’t going to upset his uncle further over a subject that had no resolution—yet.

For five years he got so involved in the day-to-day running of Donald’s large estate that there wasn’t much time to think of unresolved issues. Donald didn’t just turn it all over to him, he and Lydia were leaving Lancashire for good! They wanted to do some traveling before they got any older, and they were gone for three years doing that. But Lydia also wanted to live again in the city she’d been born and raised in, London. All her old friends were still there and had begged her over the years to bring her talents back to them. She had mostly bred dogs in the country, but she actually excelled at training them as well, and her skills were quite in demand now in London. And Donald had taken up painting, of all things!

His aunt and uncle had lived in London for four years now—Devin had only been there half as long—and they were happy there, especially now that Devin pretty much lived with them again. That was the real reason he hadn’t fixed up the house on the farm yet.

His uncle’s town house was nicely located on the west end of Jermyn Street, not far from St. James Square and just south of Piccadilly, which connected to Bond Street, so his daily ride to and from the farm wasn’t long.

He left his horse at the stable on the corner himself, rather than have one of Donald’s servants see to it. It was such a quiet, pleasant street that he actually enjoyed the short walk, even when the trees lining the street were bare, as they were now.

He stopped on the steps leading to the house’s main entrance, looking toward the next block, where his mother’s old town house was, thinking of her again. He’d never stepped foot in that house again, didn’t want to. All the furniture had been sold, his mother’s personal effects packed up and stored in the attic in Lancashire. He’d never looked through those trunks either. She’d only been twenty-six years of age when she’d died, his beautiful mother. She
could
have still married and actually lived a normal life. But she didn’t, not as long as she still loved that bastard Lawrence Wolseley. Still to this day, Devin didn’t understand why. Love, her excuse, was not a good reason to ruin your life. Perhaps it was simply because Wolseley had supported her in fine style. She’d had servants, fancy clothes, jewelry. She’d even had quite a tidy savings that Donald had turned over to him. He hadn’t refused that. It had allowed him to start the new farm, which was paying for itself now. And he had an abundance of stock now that was his own. He didn’t
have
to keep them all for breeding, so he was finally seeing some profits. And he had a new windfall in the form of Ophelia Locke.

Devin found his aunt in the parlor. She was a good ten years younger than Donald, still trim of figure, no gray yet in her black hair. She had two guests, though one was probably
a client, he surmised, since the woman held a dog in her arms and seemed hesitant to set it down with so many other dogs in the room. Lydia might have other pastimes, but training and breeding dogs was her favorite, and at least a half dozen dogs and puppies always littered the house. Three of them were lying at her feet, another was curled into the corner of the sofa, and two young ones were fighting over a scrap of lace they’d found somewhere in the house. The other guest, a younger woman, was bent down laughing at the puppies’ antics.

Lydia stood up. “Devin, allow me to introduce Lady Brown and her daughter Jacinda. They were just leaving, though Jacinda mentioned knowing you.”

Devin didn’t recognize the young woman, but didn’t embarrass her by saying so. “A pleasure, ladies,” he said with a slight bow.

Jacinda had straightened and now gave him a slow smile. Taller than her mother, lithe, she was quite pretty with her blond hair and brown eyes, so he knew he wouldn’t have forgotten her if they had actually met before. Young enough to be one of the
ton
’s debutantes this season, she had an intriguing, sensual glint in her eyes as she looked him over. He wouldn’t have expected a debutante to look at a man that way.

Her mother was eager to leave and said as she started for the door, “Thank you again, Lydia. I will remember to trim her nails more often now.”

Devin was disconcerted until he realized the woman was talking about her dog, not her daughter!

The girl walked past him a little too closely as she followed her mother. “A shame you didn’t return home sooner,” she whispered in a pouting tone.

He always tried to be polite to his aunt’s clients, but this might have to be an exception. This girl was obviously trouble, the sort he steered clear of.

“Where do you know me from?” he asked bluntly.

“I don’t. But I’ve heard so much about the infamous Cupid, it seems like we’ve already met!”

“Jacinda, come along,” Lady Brown called from the hall.

Jacinda sighed. “I hope I’ll see you at the Hammonds’ upcoming ball. I will reserve more’n one dance for you so we can . . . get acquainted.”

That pause was a little too long. Devin shook his head. “I highly doubt that’s going to happen. Run along, your mother is waiting.”

She smiled, then sauntered out of the room with a sexy swaying of her hips. Devin rolled his eyes.

Lydia returned a moment later to complain with a laugh, “Lady Brown thought I was a dog doctor! But I was still able to help. Her poor dog was limping because she’s never once trimmed its nails. Oh, before I forget, the front door was quite busy today, much much more than usual.”

“I noticed the stack of invitations in the hall has doubled in size.”

Lydia gave him a lovely smile. “I’m not surprised. Look how handsome you turned out. Hostesses in this town must love you. Meeting anyone I should know about?”

Devin almost laughed. His aunt would be pleased if he married and gave her some babies to fuss over. Oddly enough, she didn’t view his illegitimacy as an obstacle, but then she was quite certain it would never come to light. She and Donald had made sure of that. But they didn’t know that while he didn’t care what most people thought, he couldn’t take that cavalier
attitude into a marriage. Yet they did expect him to marry to carry on the family name. He couldn’t do it, not unless he could find a woman who wouldn’t care what his mother had been.

“It’s Cupid who’s getting all those invitations, Aunt Lydia.”

She rolled her eyes at him. His aunt and uncle had both laughed uproariously when he’d told them about the nickname he’d garnered. “Don’t you believe it,” she said. “You’re an eligible bachelor,
that’s
getting you invites. And I hope you took my advice and remembered to order some formal attire for this Season. Two of those invitations in that pile are to upcoming balls.”

Bloody hell, he’d forgot. He didn’t own a single set of fancy evening clothes. “I’ve been busy. ’Fraid it slipped my mind.”

She gasped. “Devin!”

A
MANDA WAS PRACTICALLY TIPTOEING
out of the house. Her father
would
have to pick that exact moment to leave his study and notice her making her way to the front door.

“Where are you off to, m’dear?”

She couldn’t tell him! If she failed at her mission, she’d have to admit it, and that wouldn’t do a’tall. So without actually lying, she mentioned the other things on her agenda that she did plan to do later that day.

“A walk while the sun is out. A quick visit to Lilly’s house to let Rebecca and Rue know I’ve come home for a few days. And I’ll probably stop in Norford Town. But I’ll be back in time for luncheon.”

“Invite them to dinner then.”

“A good idea!”

She waved and slipped out the door before he offered to come with her. The ducal mansion spread out so widely, it was quite a trek to the stable, so she hadn’t lied about taking a walk! Her mother’s touch was still evident in every room of Norford
Hall. She’d redecorated the entire house before she died, and no one wanted to change a single thing. The mansion was so large, it was quite easy for guests to get lost in it. Each of the three separate wings on the ground floor contained three parlors.

Norford Hall. This was home, the one place that could fill her with peace and a sense of well-being. Family, servants she’d grown up with who were like family, so many memories. Rafe and Ophelia still lived here most of the year. And Amanda’s grandmother Agatha lived here, too, though she rarely left her suite of rooms. Most of the family dreaded visiting her upstairs because she kept those rooms so hot, but everyone did nonetheless. Agatha also couldn’t remember anyone’s name anymore, she was so advanced in years. She always mistook Amanda for one of her many daughters. Amanda didn’t mind, she just went along with it, which was much easier than trying to correct Agatha.

When Amanda reached the stable, she walked through it and found old Herbert where she’d asked him to meet her. She was still amazed she was going to do this. But she had to!

On the way back from Devin Baldwin’s horse farm the other day, Ophelia had taken Amanda straight to Bond Street to order a few riding habits. Amanda hadn’t agreed to any lessons yet! She was still mulling that over and resisting the idea. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to get back on a horse after she’d mended from the accident. She could still remember the fear that had overcome her. But perhaps it had just been too soon, with that horrible pain still too fresh in her mind. So she didn’t decline Ophelia’s offer to set her up in advance with the proper clothes—just in case.

She was still quite excited over her meeting with Kendall Goswick. He was the first young man in a long while whom she was actually attracted to. A lot! She wasn’t about to cross him
off, as Ophelia had put it, just because she was afraid to ride. Surely that couldn’t be a real detriment to a budding romance. But what if it was? Dare she take that chance?

By the end of that day she’d worried herself into a frazzle over it and finally concluded that she ought to at least
try
to get back on a horse. But she wasn’t going to ask that infuriating horse breeder for help. No and no again! So she decided to return to Norford Hall with her father the next morning. Spending a few days in the country with family and friends was sure to bolster her courage. And she’d sent a message to the old groom who’d given her riding lessons when she was a child that she was ready to try it again. If anyone could get her back on a horse, Herbert could. He’d been nothing but kind and patient with her.

Herbert was waiting for her behind the stable. The horse he’d brought for her looked as old as he was. Amanda had managed to keep her fear blocked away—until she actually stood next to the horse. With the moment at hand, the memories of her accident, the pain, so much pain, all came back to her. . . .

“We’ll take this very slow, m’lady,” Herbert said, sensing her anxiety. “There is no hurry.”

She didn’t answer him, so he stood silently while she stared at the mount he’d saddled for her. And stared. And stared. And broke out in a sweat.

Finally he said, “Don’t worry about it, m’lady. Riding isn’t for everyone.”

She sighed and walked away. No, it wasn’t for everyone. She’d have to tell Kendall Goswick that. And if he lost interest in her, well, too bad for him. The Season had barely begun! Lord Goswick certainly wasn’t going to be the only new face in London this year, although it hadn’t sounded as if he was even
going to take part in the Season. But if he wanted to see her again, other than on a horse, he might. Besides, she still simply couldn’t believe that he’d base matrimony on a silly requirement such as a woman’s enjoying riding. Ophelia had merely thrown out the worst conclusion possible; that didn’t mean she was right.