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Authors: Samantha James

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BOOK: Perfect Bride
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The duchess commented on her state during the carriage ride to the Clarkstons. “You’re so quiet, my dear. Are you feeling well?”

Devon bit her lip. “I’m just tired.” It was true, after all. She disliked the idea of keeping secrets from her grandmother, but she could hardly tell her before she told Sebastian.

Her eyes widened at the line of carriages before the Clarkston mansion, waiting to deliver the occu
pants. “Grandmama, I thought you said this was a small, intimate affair.”

“Oh, it is, my dear.” A pause. “For the Clarkstons, that is.”

Devon sucked in a breath. “Grandmama—”

“You’ll do fine, my dear.” The duchess squeezed her hand.

And somehow, Devon knew she would. Oh, but the tales that would surely be flying about the city tomorrow! Faith, but she did not relish the prospect. She’d been vastly irritated when the sketch of her likeness appeared in the gossips. Indeed, she could fully understand why Sebastian despised scandal so much!

Inside, they were greeted by William and Emily. More than a few heads turned at their entrance, but Devon kept her chin high, a smile on her lips as they chatted with the host and hostess. William strode off to greet another newcomer, while Grandmama stood talking with Emily. Devon listened idly, allow
ing her gaze to wander.

And then it happened...Her heart lurched. Se
bastian was here.
Sebastian.
The sight of him was like a blow to the chest. Her breath left her lungs, and she could not breathe.

And on his arm was the most strikingly beautiful woman she’d ever seen in her life. Chestnut-haired and petite, clad in a gown of deepest blue, she was even more stunning than the fair Penelope. White-gloved fingertips were curled possessively into the curve of his elbow. Even as Devon watched, the fin
gers of her free hand reached up to stroke his cheek. In return Sebastian laughed, then bent to kiss her cheek.

She died a little inside in that moment. Turning, she wrenched her gaze away. But just as quickly, a white-hot rage boiled in her blood. No wonder he had not called on her in the last fortnight. Obviously he’d wasted no time resuming his search for a bride. Oh, but it hadn’t taken him long to find a potential replacement! He was clearly enraptured with the en
chantress at his side.

In some distant part of her, she noticed their host
ess was gone. It was then she saw that Justin was there as well. She’d have said hello, if only...She glanced at her grandmother. She couldn’t stay. She
couldn’t.
She would plead if she must. Beg—
“Hello, Devon,” said a familiar voice. “Your Grace.”

Devon stiffened. A nod to the duchess, and then he was standing directly before her. Reaching out, he snared her hand and brought it to his lips.

Devon was incensed. How dare he kiss her hand after kissing that other woman! She tugged it free as soon as he straightened.

“Your Grace, do you mind if I steal your grand
daughter away for a few moments?”

“No, of course not.” For the life of her, Devon didn’t understand why her grandmother sounded so bright. “Why, there is Lady Robinson.” Her cane thumping, the duchess started across the room.

Eyes snapping, Devon forced her gaze upward. Oh! How dare he smile so benignly! She longed to smack his cheek.

“It’s good to see you again,” he murmured.

Devon bristled. A footman passed by, offering champagne. Devon accepted it, downing it quickly before settling her gaze on him.

“I fear I cannot return the sentiment,” she stated coolly.

“You’re still angry.”

“I am not. Why, I’ve scarcely given you a thought.”

“I know better,” he said gently.

Her chin jutted out. “Obviously you cannot say the same. But tell me of your search for your bride. Has the fair Penelope been forsaken for the lovely lady on your arm tonight?”

His smile widened. Oh, but the man had no con
science!

“My search for my bride was over the night I met you, Devon.”

“Rubbish,” she said baldly. Her chin hitched to
the place where he’d left his lovely companion. “You appeared quite besotted.”

Sebastian had glanced over at the vision in blue, then back to her. “I will not lie, Devon. I care for her. I care for her deeply.”

Devon had thought she could hurt no more. But his words were like a knife twisting inside her. Yet somehow she managed to mask the pain tearing through her.

“Then perhaps you’d best tend to her,” Devon snapped, “for now she’s with Justin. And . . . oh, my, it appears you have competition, my lord. They’re in the corner with no one else about. Oh, dear, but it would never do to lose your intended to your brother—”

Her glass was set aside, her hand settled into the crook of his elbow.

“Sebastian!” she hissed.

“Hush,” he said almost sternly.

It was beyond bearing. Beyond belief. For he was leading her toward
that woman
.

She would have pulled away, but she couldn’t, not without causing a scene.

They stopped before Justin and the woman. “Dev
on, no introductions are needed for my brother.”

Devon gave a brief nod of greeting to Justin. And—oh, she didn’t want to look, but the woman was even lovelier than she had imagined. Huge eyes of china-blue regarded her in turn. Lips the color of crushed pink roses tipped up at the corners.

“Devon, it is with the greatest pleasure that I pre
sent my sister Julianna, newly returned from the Continent only yesterday. Julianna, Miss Devon St. James.”

Devon was too shocked to say a word.

Not so with Julianna.

“So this is Devon! Oh, Devon, but I’ve heard so much about you, I-I almost feel I know you! Oh, and please forgive my forwardness, but a handshake simply won’t do!” Reaching out, Julianna gave her a quick, fierce hug.

Devon finally found her manners. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” The first genuine smile of the night finally appeared. “Sebastian once told me you had a voice like pure sunshine. I do believe it’s true.”

Nonetheless, she was still reeling when Sebastian guided her onto the terrace. She was
not
, however, smiling when they halted a short distance away from the doors.

Devon glanced around to make certain they were alone on the terrace. “You might have told me Ju
lianna was back, instead of letting me believe—”

He laughed outright. “Oh, but it was an opportu
nity too precious to resist. Besides, I liked seeing you jealous.”

“I wasn’t!” she denied. But she had been. My God, she’d been almost eaten up with it.

“Let me get this straight. You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either.”

“Yes...I mean no!”

A jet brow climbed high in wicked amusement. “What, Devon, don’t you know your own mind?”

In all truth, she didn’t. Her stomach was knotted, twisting inside her. She felt dizzy, almost sick.

“I knew I should have stayed home,” she mut tered. A sudden thought struck then. “You knew I’d
be here, didn’t you?” Her lips compressed. “You and my grandmother arranged this, didn’t you?”

“My love,” he said with a chuckle, “I highly doubt either your grandmother or I had any influence on the Clarkston guest list.”

Must he be so rational? Her eyes flashed. “Stop laughing at me!”

He did. But now his regard was burning and di
rect. He had stepped near, so near she could feel the raw, sheer power of his presence, so close the famil
iar scent of him swirled all around her. But all at once her knees were shaking. She felt so strange, her head spinning so that she could scarcely hold her head up.

“We need to talk, Devon. We need to—”

“No,” she moaned. Heaven help her, the sickness churning in her belly was rising, burning her throat.

“What do you mean, no?” His expression was black. His tone like thunder. “Goddamn it, Devon—”

“Not now.” She clamped her hand over her mouth and rushed past him.

His expression underwent a lightning change. “You little fool! It’s the champagne. You shouldn’t have swilled an entire glass—”

She shook her head in fervent denial. The rest of his explosive speech seared the air above her head.

But Devon didn’t hear. She was busy retching in the bushes next to the bench.

In all her life she didn’t know when she’d been so embarrassed. Of course it could have been much worse. Somehow he’d managed to hail Justin and or der his carriage brought around to the front. Justin hadn’t even batted an eye when Sebastian carried
her around the side of the house and into his car riage; of course, she’d been too miserable to care at that particular moment. But at least no one else in
side had seen. She could only imagine the stir
that
would have caused.

It wasn’t far from the Clarkstons to her grandmother’s mansion. Sebastian spoke very little, but his countenance was thin-lipped and grim. His hand was solicitous as he helped her alight, but she sensed his mood was no longer tender or amicable. A half-hysterical giggle rose in her throat as he es
corted her into the house. Perhaps he should have known by now to expect the most
un
ladylike behav
ior from her!

“Are you able to manage the stairs on your own?”

“I’m fine,” she murmured. Now that the contents of her stomach had been purged, she felt much better.

“Then go change. I’ll wait for you here.”

Devon bit her lip. “Perhaps we should send word to my grandmother—”

“Already done,” was all he said. “I expect she’ll re
turn momentarily.”

Devon climbed the stairs, her heart hammering, her breast roiling with confused longing. In truth, she hoped her grandmother
didn’t
return soon. There wassomuchshewantedtosay.Somuchshe
needed
to say. But, in all truth, she wasn’t quite sure how to go about it—or even if she was elated or terrified.

Her room was dark, for she’d told Meggie, her maid, not to wait up for her. Aided by the moonlight streaming in through the window, she lit the bedside candle. But just before she closed the door, an eerie tingle raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

“Hello, dearie. I’ve been expecting ye.”

Her blood seemed to curdle in her veins. She knew that oily voice. She knew, even before she turned, that it was he who stood behind her . . .

Harry.

Twenty-eight

sick dread twisted inside her. In panic she eyed the door. She dove for it, but he was too quick for her. Iron-hard fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arm. He yanked her against him.

“Let me be!” she cried.

She tried to jerk free, but it was no use. He seized her in a bone-crushing grip and shoved her against the wall, then snatched a candle high. The flame wa
vered so wildly, she feared it would catch her hair and gown afire. Bold black eyes roved over her fea
tures. His sudden, grating laugh made her long to shrink away. “I think not, dearie. Eh, I think not!”

“What do you want with me?” she asked coldly.

Thin lips flattened into a nasty smile.

“Oh, come now, dearie! Ye killed Freddie! Did ye really think I’d let that pass?” “How did you find me?” He grinned. In answer he drew a rumpled piece of
paper from his jacket. Devon suppressed a groan. The sketch from the gossips!

“Oh, but it wasn’t hard, not once I saw this!” He gave a cackling laugh. “Jes’ when I’d begun to think I’d never find ye, ’ere ye be! And lucky fer me, I’ve friends who can read!”

His slimy gaze ran over her. He rubbed the mate
rial of her gown between his fingers. “Don’t know how ye did it, dearie, but yer circumstances ’ave changed a bit since the night ye killed my brother.”

Devon wet her lips. “What is it you want?” she asked again.

“Oh, I think ye know what I want.” He gave her a wink—and a slashing movement across his throat.

Devon clung hard to her self-control. She wouldn’t scream. She wouldn’t weep. It would please him too much if she showed her fear.

She was lucky, she supposed, that he didn’t kill her then and there. Devon was under no illusions as to his intent.

“Is it money you want? My grandmother will pay you.” Her voice rang out loud and clear. The door was ajar. Her room wasn’t far from the landing. Pray God, Sebastian hadn’t wandered into the drawing room to wait . . .

“Damn right she’ll pay, and then you’ll pay for what ye did to Freddie. I’ll be rich,” he crowed, “and you’ll be dead!” His black eyes gleaming, he seized her arm in a bruising grip. “Now, bitch, I do believe it’s time we left.”

“Do you expect to simply walk out the way you came in?” Inwardly she was quaking. She marveled that she dared to goad him so!

His eyes glinted. “Oh, we’ll be leavin’ a different way than I came in. Now, where’s yer granny?”

“Asleep down the hall,” she lied.

“Then we’ll ’ave to be quiet, now won’t we?” He grinned, opened the door, and pushed her into the hallway.

Deliberately she stumbled.

He jerked her upright. “Try that again,” came his fetid breath in her ear, “and I’ll gut you here and now!”

“But then you wouldn’t have your precious money, would you?”

Harry retaliated by twisting her wrist behind her back. Pain shot through her arm; she feared it had been wrenched from its socket.

Harry halted, peering down toward the entrance hall. Devon strained to see as well; God above, Se
bastian was nowhere in sight!

Behind her she felt Harry’s fingers steal into his coat, feeling for his knife.

“Sebastian!” she screamed. Even as the sound left her throat, everything inside her wound taut. She steeled herself for the jabbing slice of Harry’s blade— ah, but she remembered it well, the sensation of sear
ing fire burning through her, a red-hot poker. She prayed it would be quick, mercifully swift this time . . .

But there was no pain.

Only the most blessed sound in the world...the sound of Sebastian’s voice.

“There’s no need to shout, love. I’m right here.”

Harry whirled. Her eyes had barely adjusted to the gloom when she glimpsed a tall, spare figure de
tach itself from the shadows.

A clenched fist shot out and connected with the point of Harry’s jaw. Harry’s head snapped back. There was a grunt, then he slumped to the floor without a sound.

The next few hours passed in a blur. The police were summoned. Harry was led away by two burly, uni
formed figures—he had obtained entrance through the attic, it appeared. Afterward both she and Sebas
tian spoke to the constable. Devon only half remem
bered what was said, but everything was out in the open—Freddie’s death, how he’d tried to kill her. The constable quickly assured her no charges would be brought. “Indeed,” he pointed out, “the world is well rid of him. Nor,” he added forcefully, “will Harry be bothering you or anyone else again. I’ll see to that.”

It was Sebastian who saw him to the door. Grand
mama announced her intention to retire, kissed Dev
on on the forehead, and looked at Sebastian. “I trust you’re able to see yourself out,” she said crisply.

Sebastian gave a silent salute. Devon, meanwhile, made her way into the drawing room and sat, still rather dazed. She looked up when he strode through the doors. He closed them both, then turned to face her.

The air was suddenly alive with the force of his presence. Devon’s heart lurched. Never had he been so handsome, the firelight flickering over his form.

Four strides brought him before her. He sat, catch
ing her hands within his, his grip warm and strong. For the longest time he said nothing, his long fingers idly toying with hers.

“Well,” he said. “It’s finally over.”

Devon nodded.

“Are you all right?” he said gently.

“Yes,” she murmured. But her heart was suddenly quivering.

Sebastian frowned. “What is it?”

“Sebastian,” she said helplessly. Her breath tum
bled out in a rush. “Oh, Sebastian,” she cried, “there’s so much to say, and I don’t even know where to begin!”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

There was such melting tenderness in his tone that her heart and eyes spilled over. “Oh, but I do. I do!”

With a groan he caught her against him. “Don’t cry, love. I can’t bear it when you do ...I love you, Devon. I love you . . .”

A rush of emotion poured through her, leaving her dizzy and weak. Her throat aching, she wrapped her arms around him and clung. “And I love you too,” she said with a watery half sob, “but then you knew that, didn’t you?”

His eyes darkened. His gaze roved her upturned features. “I did,” he admitted with a little laugh, “but God! it’s good to hear you say it!”

He kissed her then, a long, drawn-out kiss of infi
nite sweetness.

Reluctantly he released her mouth. Drawing back, he traced the smile on her lips. “What is this for?” he murmured.

The merest hint of a smile grazed his lips.

Devon snuggled against his heat. “I was just thinking of the last time we were alone together in this room.” Some little imp inside compelled her to tease him unmercifully. “Do you recall?”

Sebastian slanted a brow. “That particular recol
lection is one I should like to forget,” he put in dryly.

“Ah, but you asked me a question...”
“I remember that question.”
Shyly she laid her fingertips alongside his jaw.

“Were you to ask me again,” she whispered, “my an
swer might be quite different.”

“I see.” His tone was grave, but his eyes had be
gun to twinkle as well. “And what would that an
swer be?”

“Why, yes, of course I shall marry you. You are

quite persuasive, you know.” “I rather thought
persistent
was the better word.” “Well, that too,” she allowed. He would have kissed her again but she stopped
him with a finger on his lips. “Wait,” she said breathlessly. “ ’Wait,’ she says,” he grumbled. “Must I wait
forever?” “Ah, but you are a patient man, are you not?” “Not,” he warned silkily, “when it comes to you.” “I see. And what about when it comes to chil
dren?” She was almost afraid to look at him, just as

afraid not to. There was a shocked silence. “Devon,” he said carefully, “are you saying what I
think you are...?”

“Yes.” She pressed his hand against her belly. “You’re going to be a husband—and a father, Sebas
tian. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind?” His fingers moved against her belly, a feather-light caress that moved her beyond measure. He laughed, the sound husky. “My word, no. I’ve al
ways wanted a houseful of children.”

Devon smiled.

Wicked amusement danced in his eyes. “
Now
, my soon-to-be-wife, may I kiss you?”

She reached up and twined her fingers in his hair, bringing his mouth to hers. “Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, yes . . .”

BOOK: Perfect Bride
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