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Authors: Victoria Vane

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She arrived two days hence and has not slept in her own chamber.

19

The Devil You Know

The staff says she conducts herself as if she were already mistress

of the house. ‘Twould seem to me she’s another kind of
mistress
al-

together and no fit company for
my
lady!” Polly added in affront.

Diana’s forehead furrowed. In having briefly met his lord-

ship, Diana presumed the maid’s suspicions were correct. This

thought was followed by indignation. Not that Diana
ever
would

have entertained his presumed proposition. Still, she was piqued

that he would even have insinuated such a thing with a woman

already under his roof.

“While I share your sentiments, Polly, it is the viscount’s

home, and he can do whatever he wishes. The duchess is a wid-

ow, and the viscount is unwed. Thus, it is their business alone,”

she spoke the mild reprimand, wishing neither to encourage the

girl’s impertinence nor squelch it completely. “We can only hope

they conduct themselves with proper circumspection.”

“Yes, my lady.” The maid flushed rose. “Shall I unlace you

now?”

“Please.”

A moment later, Polly deftly released Diana’s generous

breasts from a prison of tightly stitched linen and whalebone. Di-

ana breathed a great sigh and stretched. “I’m going to indulge

in an hour’s repose, Polly, but then I shall need you to press my

gown while I bathe and then redress my hair.”

“Which gown shall it be?”

While not normally afflicted by excessive vanity, DeVere’s

abrupt dismissal of her stirred something devilish within. “The

new emerald and gold damask in the Polonaise fashion is quite

lovely, don’t you think?”

“And most becoming to your eyes and figure too, my lady,”

the maid countered with a wink.

The latest mode from Paris, the gown had a devastatingly

low, square-cut bodice accentuated with the tiniest bit of sheer,

gold trim that barely concealed a hint of dusky nipple. If the vis-

count appreciated her well-endowed bosom, what harm in teas-

ing from afar that which he could never touch? Deeming it naught

but a bit of harmless flirtation with a charming rogue, Diana paid

little heed to the fleeting notion that she might actually be playing

with fire.

20

Victoria Vane

Chapter Three

Two hours later, another soft rap sounded upon Diana’s door.

“We thought you might desire our escort to supper. But how love-

ly you look!” Annalee exclaimed in admiration as Diana joined

them in the hall. “I knew that gown would be perfect for you. I

could never carry off a style so bold even if I had my slender fig-

ure back.” She laid a hand on her expanded waistline with a look

of dismay.

Elegantly attired in bottle-green velvet and crisp, white linen,

Edward gave a formal bow over Diana’s hand. “You are indeed…

dashing,” he said as if struggling for the right word. Noting the

spots of color in his cheekbones, Diana knew a moment’s regret

for her daring décolletage. She fought the impulse to fetch a fi-

chu, but remembering a certain vivid blue gaze that had fixed

upon her breasts, she determined to sally forth with boldness.

“Is there still no word of Reginald?” Diana asked.

21

The Devil You Know

“Hew was some considerable assistance in the matter. He

said Reggie arrived at Epsom several days hence.”

With no further elaboration forthcoming, Diana prompted,

“Where do you suppose he has been all this time?”

“I am given to understand he has been a guest at Clay Hill.”

“Clay Hill? Do you suppose he was uncomfortable arriving

ahead of our party and chose to stay with another acquaintance?

Who owns the place? Do you know, Edward?”

Edward’s color deepened. “It is the residence of a man who

calls himself
Colonel O’Kelly.”

Diana was thoroughly befuddled. “I don’t understand. Who

is this man to Reggie? And why would he be
there
when he knew

we were all expected
here?

“I only know
of
him, Diana, and regrettably, nothing good.

He is a noted turf man and notorious blackleg. He is also the own-

er of Eclipse.”

“Then mayhap that explains it. Reggie had entertained

thoughts of breeding Cartimandua, although I hear the stud fee

for Eclipse is extortionate.”

“I cannot answer, but DeVere, Hew, and I shall ride over after

supper and retrieve your errant spouse.”

“Why do we not all go?” she asked.

“Because Clay Hill is no fit place for a lady of good repute.”

“Oh?” She arched her brow with a frown. “And why is that? I

would know more of this, Edward.”

“Then I defer to DeVere.” He offered an arm to each lady.

“For now I’m famished, so let us descend to supper.”

***

In their brief exchange before repairing to dine, Diana found

Caroline, Duchess of Beauclerc jealous, possessive, and over-

weening with her own worth. Toward Annalee, she was warm, if

a trifle condescending, but the moment she laid eyes on Diana, or

more aptly, the instant DeVere had, her steely gaze shot daggers.

Thenceforth, the duchess sought every opportunity to disparage

her seeming rival.

“Do you plan another sojourn in town before your return

to the country, Lady P? It seems you had little time to catch up

on the latest fashions. I could recommend a number of places to

you.” The duchess smiled. “A friseur, perhaps?”

22

Diana’s hand flew to her hair before she realized she had ris-

en to the bait. While the duchess was undoubtedly more richly at-

tired, stylishly coiffed, and extravagantly bejeweled, Diana knew

that her own simplicity of hair, gown, and pearls showed her off

to far better advantage. She smoothed back an errant curl and

flashed—she hoped—a confident smile. “I know ‘tis the fashion

in London and Paris, but as a taller woman, I do not favor the

high headdress, Your Grace. Besides, with the daily running of an

estate, I have not so much leisure to indulge my vanity.”

Caroline flicked a scathing look over Diana’s gown. “A daring

cut for a woman of your proportions. I shall have a footman fetch

you a shawl. One would hate for you to catch a chill.”

“I am perfectly comfortable,” Diana replied.

“Nevertheless—”

“You needn’t trouble yourself, Caroline,” DeVere interjected.

“As host, my guests’ comfort is
my
concern.” He turned to Diana

with a burning look that made her pulse skitter. “Should you later

grow chilly, dear lady, you need only whisper the word, and I

shall command every hearth in this monstrosity be lit. I would

rather set my entire house aflame than cover such a magnifi-

cent…” His gaze raked over Diana’s bosom with an appreciative

gleam. “…
gown
.”

The duchess looked apoplectic. Though Diana tried at first

to suppress it, and then to stifle it behind her hand, she simply

couldn’t contain the ripples, and for the first time in distant mem-

ory, Diana erupted in full-bodied mirth. Although Annalee had

warned her of DeVere’s dangerous charm, she never could have

imagined her own susceptibility to it. His blue eyes glittering

with devilment, DeVere joined in her gale of laugher and forgo-

ing protocol, took Diana’s hand to lead her into supper, leaving

his brother Hewett to escort the fuming duchess.

The incident did little to endear her to the other woman.

They supped at a table that could easily have accommodated

twenty with a liveried footman strategically placed behind each

person. DeVere commanded the table’s head with the Duchess

of Beauclerc at his right. Hew took his place on the other side of

her while Ned, Annalee, and Diana all sat to the left. Furthest

from DeVere and the duchess, Diana enjoyed the opportunity to

observe them unobtrusively and stole frequent glances at DeVere.

Though the duchess seemed to go out of her way to attract his

23

The Devil You Know

attention with frequent touches and over-bright laughter, Diana

thought he seemed far more interested in his other companions.

The meal was a lengthy event with more covers and dishes

than Diana could ever have counted accompanied by the best

wines she’d ever tasted. The hours were highlighted with bright

conversation punctuated by bursts of laughter, interposed with

brief silences only upon the removal of each cover.

“This is quite a remarkable house, my lord,” Annalee said.

“You implied earlier that it has an interesting history. Perhaps

you might share it with us now?”

DeVere leaned back in his chair and signaled for more wine

all around. “The story of the house itself is quite innocuous. It is

the iniquity of the past owner who has brought it to infamy.”

“Iniquitous?” The duchess’s eyes gleamed. “But surely you

tease us.”

His mouth kicked up in one corner. “My dear, I assure you

the wolf can identify the beast.”

“Go on then,” Ned prompted with unrestrained eagerness.

“You have us all ears now.”

“Let none accuse me of refusing anything to my guests,” said

DeVere. After emptying his glass, he slumped back in lazy repose,

dangling the stem between his fingers. “This house and park were

built one hundred years ago by the Evelyn family but passed on

to the Calvert family—the Barons Baltimore, the Proprietary Gov-

ernors of Maryland. The third Baron pulled down most of the old

house and made extensive improvements to include the pres-

ent Palladian façade, but there is little of interest until the estate

passed to the Sixth Baron, Frederick Calvert, a man whose life was

rife with scandal, from the cradle to the grave.”

“How so?” asked Ned.

“You shall see for yourself if you merely incline your heads to

the long wall to the left. Call it an absurd vagary, but I have taken

it upon myself to remove the two portraits from the gilt monstros-

ity that serves as a library to hang them here, side by side.”

All eyes turned to study the portraits.

“What do you see?” asked DeVere.

Annalee responded first. “Each is a young nobleman of simi-

lar age, and they bear a striking resemblance one to another.

Brothers, mayhap?”

24

Victoria Vane

“I have seen one of these portraits!” exclaimed the duchess.

“The one to the right is clearly Frederick, Prince of Wales, the fa-

ther of our own King George. Yet the other does not resemble any

of his living brothers, the royal dukes. Who is it, darling?”

DeVere inclined his head toward Caroline. “You have cor-

rectly identified the Prince, Your Grace, but the portrait to the left

is another Frederick altogether—Frederick Calvert, Sixth Baron

Baltimore and the late owner of this house. The Prince of Wales

was his godfather.”

“Merely his godfather?” She arched her delicately penciled

brow.

“Officially, yes. Though I surmise his true parentage is sus-

pect. Calvert’s father was a Gentleman of the Bedchamber to the

prince, who we all know was a great philanderer. In looking at

these portraits, one wonders if Lady Baltimore might have also

have taken some
less official
role in the prince’s bedchamber? Yet

his questionable birth is only the beginning of this wastrel’s tale.”

“Whatever did he do?” asked the duchess.

DeVere laughed. “One might better ask what he
didn’t
do!”

DeVere continued his narrative, “Frederick came into a vast for-

tune upon his father’s death, but had little interest in the adminis-

tration of his holdings. Instead, he appointed a sub-governor for

Maryland and took himself off for extensive continental travels.

The influence of his grand tour is seen in the tawdry appoint-

ments of this house.” DeVere rolled his eyes at the frescoed ceil-

ing above them. “With all of these Italian frescos and friezes, Co-

rinthian columns, plaster work, and gilt furnishings, it is as if he

endeavored to create his own little Versailles. In addition to his

execrable taste— “

“But I think it’s lovely,” Annalee interrupted, craning her

neck to better study the depiction of Verrio’s
Ganymede
.

DeVere gave her half shrug. “
Chacun son goût,
my dear. On

any account, Frederick proved a profligate of the highest order.”

“Let not my brother the pot, call the kettle burnt-arse,” said

Hew. “You bought this place, after all.”

DeVere looked affronted. “Accused by my own blood.” He

raised his glass in a laughing salute.

“Your history of the house is diverting, darling, but let us hear

more of the iniquity.” Caroline leaned into him until her breasts

caressed his arm.

25

The Devil You Know

“I live only to indulge you, my pet,” said DeVere.

“Oh?” The duchess smiled, and Diana noticed one of her

hands slip under the table.

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