Notorious (2 page)

S
HE DID NOT RECOGNIZE
him until it was too late to run and equally impossible to hide. Not that hiding was her style.

The Duke and Duchess of Alton’s Midsummer Ball was the most terrible crush and the press of guests had obscured Susanna’s vision. The room was hot and airless, so noisy she could barely hear what Fitz was saying to her as he escorted her across the floor. Something about meeting some of his friends, she thought, which had been kind of him since she knew no one in London. And then the crowd had fallen back and she was looking at James Devlin and all the breath left her lungs in a rush and her head spun and she thought she might faint. It was only through sheer self-discipline that she did not.

Fitz had not noticed her discomfort. He was not, she thought, an observant man. Handsome, charming, spoiled, arrogant… She had ascertained all those facts about him within five minutes of their introduction. Within ten she had learned that he was devoted to his horses and his wine cellar. Within fifteen she had realized that he was susceptible to a beautiful
woman, which would be useful since she was both beautiful and pledged to seduce him.

Fitz was still speaking as he drew her closer to the group of people about James Devlin. She had no idea what he was talking about; fortunately it seemed to require no reply on her part. All she could see was Devlin. All she was aware of was his height, the breadth of him and the coldness in his blue eyes as they rested on her with absolute disdain. She supposed she could not blame him for that. She was the one who had walked away from him, left him before the ink was dry on the marriage lines and whilst the bed was still warm from their lovemaking.

Susanna raised her chin and straightened her spine. She had been playing a part for so long that surely it could not be too difficult to wipe all expression from her face and conceal the fact that she was shaking inside. Yet it seemed inordinately hard to do. She let her gaze travel over Devlin again in slow appraisal. The calculated coolness of her stare was in direct contradiction to the nervous bumping of her heart against her ribs.

There was such authority and innate confidence about Devlin now, a poignant contrast to the dazzling youth of eighteen that she remembered so well. He had had brilliance and dash even at that age but there had been something eager and untried about him as well, as though the world, with its sharp edges, had not yet hardened his soul.

He had certainly filled out in the intervening
years. His shoulders were broad, his chest deep. He was taller, more muscular, most definitely a man rather than a boy, and so handsome that he would have been within a hairsbreadth of looking pretty had it not been for the square jaw and high cheekbones that robbed his face of any softness at all. Susanna felt a sudden and totally unexpected pang that the boy she had known had grown into so formidable a man. She would never have guessed it. But she had made her choices years ago. It was far too late for regrets now. Life had taught her that regrets were no more than self-indulgence.

She saw the little blonde girl hanging on Devlin’s arm. That was one thing that had not changed then. Not that she cared a jot after nine years. But there had always been women hanging around James Devlin like bees to the honeypot. He knew he was handsome and he knew very well the effect that had on women. The arrogant self-assurance in the tilt of his head said so.

He was watching her. He had not taken his gaze from her from the moment that she had crossed the floor on Fitz’s arm. She risked meeting his eyes again and was almost scalded by the look she saw there. Instead of the indifference that she had expected she saw angry challenge and a turbulent sensual heat that seemed to call a response from so deep within her that she visibly shivered. Her stomach tumbled. The polished wood of the ballroom floor seemed to shift beneath her silver slippers. She could feel her
racing heart accelerate still further and saw Devlin’s gaze shift to the hollow of her throat where a beautiful borrowed diamond drop rested on her frantic pulse. Suddenly Susanna’s skin felt hot and damp; she knew the color had come into her face, knew, too, that Devlin had seen the betraying glitter of the diamond as it moved in response to the hammer of her pulse. She saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile of masculine satisfaction that he had been able to discompose her. That was something else that had not changed then: his conceit.

She raised her chin and gave him a look of profound dislike spiced with defiance. Too much was at stake here for her to draw back now, though every instinct she possessed prompted her to flee.

The girl to Devlin’s left, the one to whom Fitz wanted to introduce her, was clearly Dev’s sister. They shared the same coloring and bone structure, the same blue eyes and tawny gold hair. Susanna caught her bottom lip briefly between her teeth. This was the girl the Duke and Duchess of Alton were employing her to separate from Fitz. This was the girl whose life she was to ruin, whose future husband she was to steal, whose world she would leave in tatters. What an utter, confounded nuisance that the woman the Duchess had referred to, dismissively, as “Fitz’s little fancy,” should turn out to be Devlin’s sister.

“Lady Carew.” Fitz, smiling, was drawing Devlin’s sister forward. “May I present to you Miss Francesca Devlin? Chessie, this is Caroline, Lady Carew,
a friend of my parents who has recently come to London from Edinburgh.”

Susanna felt rather than saw Devlin stiffen as he heard her name but she forced herself not to look at him. Francesca Devlin curtsied very prettily. The candlelight picked out the strands of bronze and copper and gold in her hair. Her blue eyes were very warm, her greeting even warmer. Susanna admired her tactics. When a handsome, eligible marquis whom you have a fancy to marry introduces a beautiful woman to you, pretend to be delighted to make her acquaintance…

That one was straight out of the adventuress’s handbook. Under other circumstances, Susanna thought, she might have enjoyed befriending Miss Francesca Devlin, with whom she had more than a little in common. Unfortunately she was being paid a vast sum of money to inveigle herself into Fitz’s affections and get rid of Francesca for good, which was not a promising basis for a friendship.

James Devlin shifted at his sister’s side and Susanna met his eyes and saw naked antagonism there. Unlike Francesca he was not troubling to hide his hostility to her. Susanna felt the force of it ripple through her whole body. She supposed it was naive of her to imagine that Devlin would be indifferent to her sudden reappearance after an absence of nine long years. She had treated him badly; that was undeniable. He would want an explanation at the least, retribution at worst. Her mouth dried at the thought.
Devlin was not a man one would want as an enemy—he was too forceful, too determined—and her position was very precarious indeed.

Devlin inclined his head to her as though he had read and understood her thoughts. There was an edge of cynical amusement to his antipathy, a curl to his lips that threw down a challenge to her. The dangerous light in his eyes warned her that whatever game she chose to play, he would match her. Match her and surpass her.

She saw Devlin cast his sister a glance and move a step closer to her as though offering silent moral support. Chessie shot him a smile that was for one unguarded moment full of affection and gratitude. So Devlin was a protective older brother, Susanna thought. That was exactly what she did not need when she was set on spoiling his sister’s life. Matters, complicated enough already, took a turn for the worse. Her heart sank lower toward her delicate embroidered satin slippers.

The other lady in the group, the little blonde, pushed forward in a flurry of blue silk and lace.

“You should have introduced me first, Fitz,” she said, pouting. “I am a lady!”

By name if not by nature, Susanna thought as Fitz, apologizing profusely, introduced the girl as his cousin Lady Emma Brooke and the other gentleman as the Honorable Frederick Walters. Susanna was sharply conscious of Devlin’s eyes upon her all the
time, the narrow blue glitter of his gaze holding her captive. Emma dragged him forward like a trophy.

“This is my fiancé,” she said proudly, “Sir James Devlin.”

Fiancé.

Susanna’s heart jerked. She had known that Devlin had come into a title. But she had not known that he was betrothed.

Jealousy, sharp, dark and hot, stole her breath. She wondered why she had never imagined him wed before. The thought had never crossed her mind and yet in the nine years since they had parted he could have been married twice over, three times, six times like Henry VIII for all she knew.

Except for the small difficulty that he was still married to her.

She really should have told him that they were still wed. She should have told him long ago.

Susanna’s conscience, often troublesome, such a disadvantage to an adventuress, pricked her again. This, however, did not seem like the appropriate moment to break the news to Devlin, with his fiancée smiling at her with that possessive air and that warning glint in her eyes.

Susanna swallowed hard. She had intended to get an annulment within the first year of her marriage. She had written to Dev and promised him that she would. Then she had discovered that she was pregnant and her wedding ring and marriage lines had suddenly been the only thing standing between
her and ruin. Alone and destitute, disowned by her family, she had clung to the very edge of respectability. And later, when she had remembered her pledge and had once again thought to end her marriage she had discovered that annulments, like many things in life, were both prodigiously expensive and a great deal more difficult to obtain than she had ever imagined. By then she had been spending every last penny she earned simply keeping body and soul together on the streets of Edinburgh. There was no cash to pay the lawyers. Sometimes she had barely managed to survive.

The memory of those dark days invaded Susanna’s mind and she felt the familiar panic and fear rise in her throat. Her palms felt slippery with sweat within the elegant lace of her evening gloves. The candles felt too hot, the ballroom stifling. Everyone was looking at her. With a great effort of will she pushed the memories away and smiled at Emma Brooke.

“You are to be congratulated on your betrothal, Lady Emma,” she said, “though not as much as Sir James is on his.”

There was a slight pause whilst Emma tried to work out if this was a compliment and, deciding that it was, beamed. Susanna saw Dev’s lips quirk into a smile.

“I am indeed the most fortunate of men,” he said smoothly. “And you, Lady Carew,” he added. There was a gleam of dark amusement in the depths of his eyes, shadowed by that ever-present anger. “It seems
that you, too, must be congratulated, since the last time we met you were neither a lady nor were you called Caroline Carew, as I recall.”

His tone was very courteous, his words anything but. A little ripple went around the group. Susanna saw a sharpening of speculation in the women’s eyes and a different sort of interest in the men’s. No wonder. Dev had just implied she was an adventuress at best, a harlot masquerading as a lady at worst.

The moment spun out. Susanna knew she had a choice and she had to make her decision fast. She could pretend that Devlin had mistaken her identity. Or she could take the fight to him. It was risky to claim that she did not know him because Dev would probably see that as a challenge. He was that sort of man. It was equally perilous to engage with him because she was not sure that she could win. But it was certainly too late to feign indifference. Everyone was waiting to see how she would respond to Dev’s calculated remark.

“I am flattered that you claim to remember so much about me,” Susanna said lightly. “I had forgotten all about you.”

Dev’s smile deepened at the setdown. The look he gave her sent heat searing through her.

“Oh, I remember everything about you, Lady… Carew,” he said.

“You never knew everything about me, Sir James,” Susanna said.

Their gazes locked like the hiss of blades en
gaging. Susanna’s skin prickled with awareness. Too late to back down now…

“On the contrary,” Dev said. “I remember, for instance, the very last time we met.” There was a hint of devilry in his eyes. He was enjoying baiting her. Susanna saw it and felt a flare of anger.

Then her gaze fell on Emma’s furious, pouting face and her anger dissolved into relief. This was just for show on Dev’s part, to punish her for past sins and make her squirm. He had no intention of revealing the truth. It would damage him as much as it would her. Emma, she was already persuaded, was no meek and biddable betrothed. And Emma must surely hold the purse strings because Dev had never had any money at all.

Susanna allowed her gaze to consider the extravagant embroidery on Dev’s white and gold waistcoat, the crisp quality of his linen and the unmistakable value of the diamond in his cravat pin. Then she let her eyes drift to Emma again. She saw Dev’s gaze follow her. She knew he understood.

Finally, she smiled. “Well,” she said, “I am sure you would not be so churlish as to bore everyone with the details, Sir James. There is nothing so tedious for others as old acquaintances harping on about past times.”

“Did you know one another in Ireland?” Emma had clearly had enough of their conversation. She pushed between them, looking from Dev to Susanna
with ill-concealed jealousy. She made Ireland sound like the back of beyond, a place fit only to leave.

“We met briefly in Scotland,” Susanna said, “when Sir James was visiting his cousin Lord Grant one summer. It was a very long time ago.”

“But now we have the happy opportunity to renew our acquaintance.” The expression in Dev’s eyes was in direct contrast to the smoothness of his tone. “You must grant me the next dance, Lady Carew, so that we may talk about the past without boring our friends.”

In one sentence he had demolished her attempts to escape. Susanna mentally gritted her teeth. She recognized that determination in him. He had had the same single-mindedness at eighteen. He had seen something he wanted and he had taken it. She shivered.