Deverell's Obsession: A Risqué Regency Romance (7 page)

“So you might have been in Paris a couple of weeks ago…” Dev let the question hang in the air.

“Perhaps.” She bit her lip in frustration. “But I cannot recall anything at all from then on and even that bit is hazy.”

“It’s all right, dear,” soothed Bertie.

But Léonie shook her head. “No, it’s not, Aunt Bertie. I wish it were. But I have no idea if I stayed anywhere in Cherbourg or even if it was Cherbourg. It could have been Calais or anywhere along the Channel coast. And I got passage to London…why? Is Papa here? Is he looking for me?”

“We don’t know, Léonie. I haven’t been able to find him thus far. But I only began my inquiries today, so there is still plenty of time. Now I have information to assist me. You’ve been an enormous help.”

She looked at him,
really
looked at him, seeing the strength of purpose behind the gentle eyes. He was a man a woman could lean on if she needed to, and who would stand by her side as well, if that were required.

He was a man one could easily become attached to. And given the current situation, that might be a very bad thing for both of them.

Without thought, she held out her hand. “Can you find my father, do you think?”

He automatically took it and held it in his, curling his fingers around hers and enveloping her with his warmth. “I’ll do everything in my power to find him, Léonie. You can bet your best hat on that.”

Her lips twitched. “But Dev. I don’t have any hats at all.”

“Then you have nothing to lose.”

She laughed with Bertie, but something inside her was beginning to stir and remind her that she still had a great deal to lose. 

Her heart.

Chapter Seven

Within a few days, Dev’s frustration was growing, even as Léonie’s health improved.

He had no answers to the questions he knew she wanted to ask, because they were the same questions that haunted his every waking moment. There was no sign at all of Colonel Girard in London. And that was one of the biggest worries of all.

Ian McPherson had stopped at Deverell House for a brief visit, merely to update and confirm that Lord Aubrey Elwyn had indeed been murdered, and that his house had been cleared of valuables. The local authorities were eager to dismiss it as a burglary that had resulted in Lord Elwyn’s death at the hands of the criminals, but McPherson wasn’t convinced. He was on his way to Whittingford to—as he put it—sniff around a bit.

Dev had given him a look and in response Ian had nodded. Yes, it had been a bit too much of a coincidence for either of their liking although the Elwyn connection to Léonie was tenuous at best. He promised to get in touch when he returned.

With that, Dev had to be satisfied, although it was far from useful and there wasn’t anything that he wanted to share with Léonie yet.

She was spending more and more time on her feet now, and when there was a loud knock at the door one morning, she was already finishing her breakfast and wrapped securely in the robe she had come to love. Aunt Bertie had felt good enough about her charge’s progress to plan a few visits and was absent, leaving Léonie to her own devices. She promised she’d not be bored, since there was a substantial library in Deverell House, and Dev had no reason not to believe her.

But there was no doubt her face lit up when she saw Mary and Eileen arrive, bearing boxes that looked suspiciously like those used to transport dresses. There was another couple in their train—two people Dev couldn’t have been happier to see.

“
Julia
.
Lucius
. Bless your hearts—you’re a sight for these sore eyes. Come right in.” He all but dragged Lucius across the threshold.

“Christ, Dev. Easy. That’s my coat you’re wrinkling.”

“The hell with your coat. I need to tell…”

“Where is she, Dev? In there?” Julia nodded to the open door. “Introduce me? I’m dying to meet her.”

Dev’s jaw twitched.

“Give it up, my friend. Once she gets the bit between her teeth there’s no stopping her.” Lucius looked lovingly at his wife.

On a groan, Dev strode into the parlor. “Léonie, may I present Lord Lucius Gordon and his lovely wife Julia. Close friend of Mary and Eileen whom you already know.”

His words were pretty much drowned out by the excited chatter of the ladies as boxes were opened, explanations made and Julia sat down next to Léonie and engaged her in conversation.

“Come on. They don’t need us.” Dev urged Lucius out the door.

“You must be in a state. You’re actually hurrying.”

“I have a lot on my mind. Get in here and I’ll tell you.” He shoved Lucius into his study and closed the door, leaning against it and taking a deep breath. “Now. I’ve got a story for you and I need to know if you think I’m going completely insane.”

“In my opinion? You probably already are, but that’s neither here nor there.” Lucius strolled to the window embrasure and made himself comfortable in an oversize leather chair. “Unburden yourself, Dev. Lest you explode. Julia and I are taking a few days off from parenting, so I refuse to clean up any messes until we get back.” He raised an eyebrow. “If you explode?
You
clean it up.”

Dev rolled his eyes and ignored that comment. “All right. Here’s what’s happening.”

For the next fifteen minutes or so he explained Léonie’s situation in detail to Lucius, whose expression went from mildly bemused to intensely focused.

“Elwyn’s dead?”

“Murdered. No question. McPherson is headed there now to snoop around. He has the authority to do so, being a Bow Street Runner.”

“Helpful,” nodded Lucius. “And Léonie’s memories…”

“I’d say sketchy at best.” Dev ran a hand over his face. “That’s a sticking point, Lucius. I am sure she can’t remember much about her recent arrival on the docks. That was a hell of a hit she took and it would have knocked anyone senseless. Damn near killed her, according to Pennyhaven.”

“But…I sense there’s a ‘but’ there…”

“Yes.” Dev frowned. “There seem to be some gaps in her history. It’s not that I want chapter and verse of everything she did since she was three years old, but her overall history is thin in places. She’s travelled a lot, in Europe, during times of conflict. We both have an idea of how difficult that was. Yet she made the trip from Vienna to Greece, for example, after the Congress, without incident, apparently.”

Lucius was quiet for a few moments, appearing lost in thought. “You ever hear of her father? Colonel Girard?”

Dev shook his head. “Not that I can recall, no. But then again, I don’t move in those circles. In fact, I’ll admit I’ve actively avoided them. There are enough challenges in life these days without going hunting for ‘em. And a diplomatic position…well, it would not suit me at all.”

Lucius grinned. “I couldn’t agree more.” Then he raised one eyebrow. “But…”

“But?”

“I’m pretty sure I may know one or two people who might know people…”

“Lucius, if there is anything you could do to find out more information, I’d be forever in your debt.”

“What about this Bow Street Runner of yours?”

“Nice chap,” answered Dev. “You’d like him. I met him back when Charles had that spot of bother with Hannah’s father, and more recently at the Mitra—I was told some Duke had put him up for it, and you know he seemed quite at home in the environment. Not quite the behavior one expects from a Redbreast.”

“A little more to him than meets the eye, perhaps?” Lucius looked interested.

“Yes, I think so. But I’m sure I’ll be meeting him again soon, so I’ll do some tactful probing and see what I can find out. “

“Sounds good to me.” Lucius stood. “We should scout out the ladies and see what’s happening. And I want to see Léonie.”

“She’s…quite something.”

“I gathered as much.” Lucius grinned. “Let’s go find out exactly what.”

Dev led his friend from the room and they walked toward the noise. It seemed that four women and several boxes could produce a sound not unlike feeding time at a large chicken farm.

Lucius squared his shoulders before entering the room, and Dev took a breath. “Heaven help us.”

*~~*~~*

Léonie saw him enter and noticed the man beside him. That would be Julia’s husband, Lucius, of course. Though not very much alike in appearance, there was something that linked them both. A look, perhaps, or a demeanor that spoke of breeding, and marked them clearly as gentlemen through and through. It wasn’t their clothing or an air of superiority—neither betrayed anything like that, and Léonie had seen more than enough in her travels.

No, Dev and Lucius looked exactly like what they were. Men you could rely on, and men who understood the word ‘honor’. If only all gentlemen could be cut from that cloth.

She was well aware how lucky she was to be here in Deverell House, with Dev as her erstwhile guardian and protector. And now, she had
clothes
as well.

“Look Dev. Look how amazing this is…Mary and Eileen have been so very busy on my behalf…” She gulped back tears. “I scarce know what to say.”

Dev came to her side. “You say thank you, of course.” He turned to the two women beaming at them. “And you tell them how very blessed we are to know them.”

“Oh there you go again, Dev. Just stop with the fussing.” Mary blushed. “We guessed Léonie wouldn’t have anything to wear but the one outfit and ‘t’was but an evening’s work to put a few things together for her.”

Julia grinned. “And when I went to visit, they told me of poor Léonie’s adventures, and I insisted we come with them. And I wanted to say hello to you, of course.” She smiled innocently.

“Yes of course you did.” Dev laughed and turned back to Léonie. “Julia is the best of women. With a curiosity that would turn a cat green with envy.”

“Nonsense.” Julia dismissed his humor. “We’re here now, I’m so glad that Léonie is on the mend and I’ve made her promise to come to Gordonstone Hollow when she’s fully recovered.”

“Indeed she has.” Léonie smiled. “And I would love to visit and meet her son.”

“So while we’re here, Dev…” said Julia, again with a voice full of innocence, but eyes full of mischief, ”I understand you are going to show us your
obsession
.”

“Er…”

Dev glanced at Lucius, who shrugged and looked vaguely uncomfortable. “Charles.”

“I thought as much, damn him.”

“Might as well get it over. You won’t get a moment’s peace otherwise. Take it from me.” Lucius assumed the meek expression of a henpecked husband.

A snort from his wife was the only response. Everyone else was looking at Dev.

“Oh come on then. It’s in my rooms.”

Mary and Eileen hung back, but Dev beckoned. “I’ve told you two about it, so come along. You’re both part of all this and you deserve to know it all. No escaping us now, you know.”

They grinned and caught up with Dev, Léonie, Lucius and Julia. Thus assembled, the party walked up the stairs and along the corridor to Dev’s suite of rooms.

“Fancy,” muttered Lucius, glancing around. “So this is how the
Ton
spends its nights.”

“Oh shut up,” Dev muttered.

Léonie suppressed a chuckle. These two had obviously been friends for many years. They were so comfortable with each other. She envied them that pleasure. One of the drawbacks of travelling most of one’s life was that there never seemed to be enough time to build the kind of friendship Dev and Lucius shared.

Then Dev led them into his bedroom, a sizeable space with a huge bed, one or two elegant pieces of furniture…and a painting.

All alone in the center of one wall.

A painting of—of—
her
.

*~~*~~*

Dev held his breath as silence fell. He wondered if Léonie’s heart was beating as fast as his at this precise moment.

He heard her murmur and then felt her move to his side. “Dev,” she whispered. “I don’t understand.”

She turned and met his gaze, her eyes mirroring the ones staring at them from the painting.

Without thought, Dev reached for her hand and held it. “I don’t understand either, Léonie, but there it is. When I saw you…” he swallowed, searching for the right words. “When I saw you, it was as if this painting had come to life.”

“It’s…beyond belief, Dev.” Lucius sounded amazed. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes…”

“Who is she?” asked Julia. “Is there a signature?”

“You were right, Dev.” Mary’s voice sounded from behind them. “The spitting image, she is.”

Dev turned, still keeping Léonie’s hand in his. “I wish I could answer your questions, my friends. But I can’t. I’m as much in the dark as all of you. No, there’s no signature to this piece. I received it a year or so ago during the estate settlement of a distant relative I barely knew. It’s not unusual for items like this to stay within a family no matter how tenuous the connection.”

Lucius nodded. “I remember one or two pieces like that in my family.” His mouth twisted. “I had to sell ‘em, of course. Fortunately, they were ugly as sin. Not like this beauty.”

“She is a beauty indeed,” murmured Eileen. “’T’is enough to take ma breath away.” Her Irish accent thickened with her emotions.

Dev looked down at Léonie. “It’s not you, my dear. We all understand that. It’s got to be two generations older than you at least. But has anyone ever commented that you resemble one of your ancestors, perhaps?”

Léonie looked back at the painting, aware of the warmth of Dev’s grasp and finding it both comforting and wonderfully pleasant. In spite of the strangeness of this moment—staring at herself and knowing it couldn’t be herself—she wasn’t upset. Just puzzled.

She shook her head. “Nobody has made such a comment, that I can remember. Although I was told that as I grew I was close to my mother in appearance.”

“Could this possibly be your grandmother, Léonie? Or great-grandmother?” Julia was still staring at the painting.

Léonie thought about that. “My mother was a Petrova. I don’t know about her mother, since my grandparents died either before I was born or when I was very young. So I’m not sure if the Petrov line came to Mama from her mother or from her father.” She glanced at Dev. “Is that something we could research?”

Dev glanced at Lucius who raised his eyebrows at the notion. “I don’t see why not.”

“We will see what we can find out, dear.” Julia put her arm around Léonie’s shoulders. “Once we start digging around…well, you’d be surprised what we can turn up.”

“I will be patient, I promise.” Léonie gave Julia a grateful smile. “But I can’t help but worry. It’s all so…so
uncertain
at the moment.”

“You just trust these folks, dearie.” Mary nodded firmly. “If anyone can work out this tangle, it’s them.”