So when he got her on the track with her father leaning on the fence rail some distance away watching them, he told her, “No screaming, no fainting, and since you brought your esteemed father to watch, no falling off Sarah today.”
He tossed her up into the saddle. She looked down at him to demand, “And what’s that got to do with him?”
“It will reflect badly on me, not you.”
She snorted delicately but said no more.
Despite her bravado, he could still sense her nervousness, but it wasn’t nearly as extreme as what she’d felt the other day.
So most of his brusque sarcasm was intended to help her keep her fears at bay.
As he handed her the reins, he unbent enough to say, “I left orders for Sarah to be exercised daily, so she’s no longer eager for a brisk run. Pace yourself and she’ll accommodate. Don’t worry, you’re going to shine.”
“I have to, with him watching.”
So that’s why she’d brought her father today? He provided incentive for her to excel? Devin chided himself for thinking her motive had had anything to do with him. The girl probably didn’t give him a thought once he was out of her sight. Why should she? She had so many men ready to hand her their hearts she couldn’t keep track of them all—first sons titled or in line to be titled, even second and third sons hoping to get lucky—and none of them illegitimate.
But he didn’t have the luxury to forget about her once she was out of sight because she was a job to him. He assured himself that was the only reason she filled his thoughts when he wasn’t with her.
“I’ve been meaning to discuss something with you,” she said in a low, secretive tone. “I have no trouble telling if a man finds me attractive enough to, well, you know, but is there something obvious I should be aware of that can help me determine which ones I feel the same about—other than finding them pleasing to the eyes?”
Devin stiffened. Was she serious? Her innocent, curious look said she was.
“Does your heart quicken?” he asked.
“You mean like now? That’s just nervousness!”
“I’m talking about how you feel when you’re around these men you find attractive. Do you want to get close enough to
them to touch them? Are you eager to see them again? Do you think about them constantly?”
Eyes wide, she said, “Thank you! That does clear it up a bit, and why the deuce couldn’t my brother tell me that?”
Devin laughed. “You’re his baby sister. He’s not going to discuss desire with you.”
His blunt words left her blushing. If any other woman had asked him that question, he would have thought she was just being flirtatious, but not Amanda. He actually knew more about her now than she’d been willing to volunteer, and now he could add curious to the list. He knew that she was persistent, tenacious, that she wouldn’t drop a subject she’d sunk her teeth into. And she was courageous, exceptionally so. But she was hot-tempered, too, at least with him she was. She
might
still like fishing. He could offer to take her fishing to find out for sure. He enjoyed the pastime himself. And she liked to gamble on horses, but not at cards. He’d have to keep all of this in mind.
The session went exceptionally well. Amanda obviously thought so, too, because she chattered nonstop as they walked back to the stable, laughing with her father, effervescence bubbling over, Little Miss Sunshine again.
Before she and her father left, she told Devin, “I think after a few more lessons I will be at the point where I will have to decide if I’m going to take up riding seriously enough to warrant having my own mount. I’ll want a white mare if it comes to that. Have you any I can purchase?”
“Why white?”
“Because the only other time I thought about riding again was when I admired an acquaintance on a white horse. I determined that if I ever rode, it would have to be on a magnificent animal like hers.”
“They aren’t all that common, you know. And the few I have are definitely too fast for you—at this point. They’ll demand a hard gallop the moment you mount them. I’m not saying the day won’t come when you’ll be up for that, but I certainly wouldn’t recommend it now.”
Her lips turned down in an adorable pout. “Well, that’s disappointing.”
“Buck up, m’dear,” Preston said, and chucked her chin. “You’re going to want a gentle animal like the one you’re learning on. Don’t make me worry about this endeavor by buying a horse you can’t easily handle.”
“Then I’ll let you find me one,” she said, grinning at her father. “But it must be white!”
Both men rolled their eyes at her, but Devin stared after the coach as they drove off. He’d actually, for that briefest moment between Preston’s suggestion and Amanda’s declining it, had the notion to present Amanda with Sarah when she finished her lessons. But since he’d rather not part with Sarah, he wondered why he’d even had the thought! Simply because he’d thought she might appreciate the gesture? An idea designed to please her? Bloody hell, what was wrong with him?
His mood turned sour after that near blunder, though if he admitted it, it was partially because he didn’t have the kind of mount Amanda wanted. But with his disposition on a downslide, it was probably an excellent time to visit William’s moneylender to take care of that nasty business for his friend.
He wanted to check on Will anyway, to make sure he was still mending well at home, and to pick up the money he was returning to cancel Will’s debt. If Blythe
did
still need a dowry,
Devin would sell that town house he had no use for and just wouldn’t mention it to Will. But he didn’t think he’d have to, especially if Lord Oliver opened his eyes wide enough to see what a gem Blythe was. Devin had caught them twice now deep in conversation and laughter at social events, so he had a feeling that had already happened.
Before long he was heading to the seedier side of town. He had the lender’s name, Nathaniel Gator, and his address. It still took awhile to find the place since Devin had never been to that part of London before.
He didn’t realize it was a private residence he was entering when he simply opened the door and walked in. A knock might have been appropriate, but then he wasn’t there to be appropriate. But he did interrupt a couple of men who were talking in the large foyer.
“Yet another bleedin’ nabob?” the bigger of the two men said with a derogatory glance. “Wot are ye gents doing? Passin’ my boss’s name around at yer fancy parties?”
The other man, tall, lean, and finely clothed, swung around and looked a bit shaken when Devin met his eyes. Embarrassed, no doubt, to be found by someone he knew in a sordid place like this.
Devin wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t recognize him. He nodded at the young man. “Lord Trask.”
“You in debt, too, old chap?” John Trask asked, his tone actually sounding hopeful.
Devin supposed it would make the fellow feel less embarrassed if they were both in the same dire straits. Devin had heard that Trask had gambling debts, apparently too many if he had to come to a lender like this to get them paid off. Devin should
warn him about the underhanded dealings that occurred here and probably would—once he was done with his task.
“No, I’m here for payback of a different sort,” Devin said as he moved closer to the two men. And to the bruiser, he said, “You Gator’s strong-arm?”
“Wot if I am?”
“Your boss picked the wrong man for one of his lessons, a friend of mine,” Devin explained. “I’m here to make sure it never happens again.”
He slammed his fist against the man’s cheek, but it barely moved the brute. Devin grinned, anticipating a good workout now. One of the nonmandatory classes at his school had been fisticuffs. Unlike his performance in the etiquette classes, he’d excelled in the ring, not by brute force, but from the skills he was taught. So even a bruiser such as Gator’s strong-arm was bound to go down—eventually. It did take about ten minutes though.
Trask didn’t stick around to watch. Devin didn’t even notice that the lord slipped out while he was busy getting a few bruised ribs himself.
With the bruiser barely conscious on the floor, Devin leaned over to pat his cheeks. “Where’s your boss?”
The man pointed down the hall. Devin headed that way and opened a few doors before he found Gator behind one. Sleeping. In the chair behind the desk. Devin didn’t believe it.
“Really? Pretending to sleep through that racket?”
The man didn’t stir. He was middle-aged, nearly bald, and corpulent. A rather large tray containing empty plates lay on the desk. Devin supposed a heavy meal could have put the man to sleep. Not that it mattered. He shoved the desk toward Gator, ramming it against his chest. That got results.
“What?” Nathaniel Gator said groggily, then straightened in his chair, wide-awake at the sight of Devin. “Who the hell are you and how did—?”
“Let’s not waste time,” Devin said, tossing the bag of money on the desk. “That’s to pay off William Pace’s loan.” He took the note out of his pocket and ripped it up, then tossed the pieces on the desk, too. “You should have made your terms clear to him. Let me make mine clear to you. You will never send anyone to his home again. If you ever lay a hand on him again, I will kill you.”
Having just been paid off, the lender didn’t seem inclined to take that threat seriously. “I only sent word that he needed to increase his payments. Two loans to the same bloke is risky, you know.”
“That’s not
all
you did.”
The man actually shrugged. “So my man beat him up a little. It’s his job to make sure the recipients of my largess pay me back in a timely manner.”
“Pace is bedridden. He nearly died!”
Gator paled. “How can that be? D’you think I’m crazy? That would be like burning my money!”
“Then maybe you should find a new strong-arm. Two stab wounds to the back is attempted murder.”
“No!” Gator shot to his feet. “I swear to you Pace was just beat up a little and tossed out, lesson learned. My man came immediately to me to say so and was with me the rest of the evening. If someone took a knife to your friend, it didn’t happen here. Bloody thieves! I knew I should have moved to a better part of town now that I can afford it.”
“Remember, stay away from Lord Pace.” Devin gazed at the lender menacingly. As he walked out of the unsavory den, his
thoughts were racing. Devin hadn’t really thought Gator could be stupid enough to kill off one of his clients. Street thieves must have attacked Will, as Devin and Will had concluded. The only other possibility would be an enemy who was deliberately trying to kill William, but his friend didn’t have enemies, and neither did Donald, whose coach might have been recognized that night. No, Devin was sure it had been desperate thieves.
T
HE YOUNG MAN SLUMPED
into the overstuffed chair in the grand sitting room. His mother, Marianne, raised her eyes from the book in her lap. She didn’t raise her head. He hated when she did that. It gave the impression that she couldn’t be bothered to give him her full attention.
She glittered with jewels as usual. Even when she didn’t leave her suite of rooms in the ancestral mansion, she would still adorn herself with jewels. Of course those jewels were the only thing keeping him out of debtors’ prison. But she didn’t like giving them to him and had grown more and more angry over the years each time she was forced to part with one of her precious baubles to pay off his debts—until in a fit of pique she’d told him the truth one day, and how he could benefit from it.
The truth had devastated him. Yet she’d discussed it without embarrassment, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.
“I had an indiscretion ten years after your brother was born,” she’d told him that day.
“I’m ten years younger than my brother” was all he could think to say, he was so shocked.
“Exactly. But this can now be to your benefit. I’ve recently learned that your real father is dying. He’s younger than I am! But he led a very dissolute life and is now paying the price for it. Ironically, he’s outlived his entire family—all but you.”
“How could you!”
She’d merely shrugged. “These things happen. Your father—er, the earl that is, he knew of my indiscretion, of course, and forgave me.”
It was more than he could take in all at once. The man he’d believed his whole life to be his father was not truly his father? The older brother whom he adored and had never begrudged anything was only his half brother? And Marianne’s husband, the earl, had known all along? It was a wonder the earl had never treated him harshly over the years. Or given his mother the boot. But, apparently, the earl had enjoyed her too much in his bed to go to that extreme.
He’d grown up with all the privileges and benefits a rich, noble family could provide, never suspecting that he didn’t actually belong there. He’d thought it natural that his brother, Justin, got all the lavish praise and affection from their father since he was the firstborn. But just recently his mother had divulged that the earl had done him a bad turn before he’d died: he’d made sure his legitimate son knew of his wife’s indiscretion. And Justin’s relationship with his brother had changed completely after that.