The Devil's Match (2 page)

Diana spun toward the door. “You
will
call, my lord, or you will much
regret my methods of rousing you.”

“I doubt that, my dear,” he replied. “You
may
rouse
me any way you
like.”

The room rumbled with snickers and guffaws.

She had meant it as a threat, but Ludovic could
picture her face behind the veil, the high color in her cheeks, the
passion lighting her green eyes, marking her righteous indignation,
the very things that had appealed to him four years ago. He had
determined the moment he first saw her that he she would be his.
She had been a challenge, but he had, indeed, claimed her. Several
ways, in fact, but still not enough to satisfy him. She was the
only lover with whom he hadn’t grown bored. He told himself it was
only the brevity of their liaison. It hadn’t had sufficient time to
grow monotonous.

Though he’d only meant to taunt her further, he
felt himself growing rock-hard at the vision of her once again in
his bed, proof positive that he hadn’t had his fill of her yet. The
notion had sprung from nowhere, but there it was, just as she,
staring him in the face.

“A tolerable, handsome figure,” Lord Malden
remarked to her departing back, “but a tongue like a shrew.” He
added sotto voce, “Perhaps you can teach her a better means of
employing it, eh, DeVere?”

Oh, he had done that and more. He had
taught her many things, and she had proven both eager and
wonderfully sensuous, but her education remained incomplete.
Unless
... He wondered with an
unfamiliar stab of something he didn’t care to identify if Diana
had taken other lovers in his absence. He paused to examine that
question. Would it really matter if she had? In the end, he found
it didn’t diminish his desire for her in the least. His brother was
now out of the picture, not that he would have allowed
that
courtship to have progressed
any further.

With one hand on the door, she spun around to
confront her detractors. He could almost see her livid gaze
penetrating through her veil. “Better a shrew than a sheep, my
lord. For hapless sheep are devoured by ruthless wolves.”

So that is the way of
it.
He chuckled as the door clicked behind her. He had
introduced her to passion and left her to her own devices, and for
that, she resented him. He had felt her bitterness as a living,
breathing force. Yet, there was no doubt in his mind that
this sheep
desired nothing more than
to be devoured slowly and deliberately by a wolf’s mouth, and he
would be only too happy to oblige her.

Chapter Two

Upper Grosvenor Street

At half-nine, Diana thought she would wear
down the carpet from her pacing. She had rose an hour betimes in
agitation at her impending confrontation with her erstwhile lover,
and he had failed to show.
Damn his
eyes!

She had no doubt he was entirely to blame for
Vesta’s disappearance. She had written as much to Sir Edward,
sending a dispatch by private courier late last night immediately
upon her return from DeVere’s house. But even with a regular change
of horses and riding through most of the night, it would take
almost three days for the messenger to reach Thornhill Park and
then another three or four for Edward to arrive in London, but
arrive he certainly would by the week’s end. And there would,
indeed, be a reckoning! A very large man with a slow burning fuse,
Edward was a veritable cannon once lit.

Although he and DeVere were the best of friends,
Edward treasured nothing above his daughter. He would be livid at
DeVere, friendship be damned. At the moment, the vision of
witnessing him pummeling DeVere brought a smile to her face, albeit
a smile that was short-lived.

Having lost patience, Diana was prepared to
carry out her own threat, even if it meant bribing two burly
footmen to drag his lordship bodily from his bed. In a rising fever
of vitriol, she called for the carriage and returned upstairs to
retrieve her hat and gloves, but by the time she descended, there
he was.

Garbed in silk and lace and all the sartorial
splendor of his exalted rank, he stood in her foyer, staring up at
her with his sardonic blue gaze. The footman relieved him of hat
and sword stick, and DeVere made her a flourishing bow. “Your
humble servant, madam,” he declared.

“You are late,” she answered his greeting.

His playful and mocking air vanished, replaced
by disdain. He replied in a tone matching her own, “You are lucky I
came at all, my dear. I am not in the habit of answering to anyone.
But given your near fit of hysterics at my house last night, I was
inclined to indulge you.”

“Indulge me? You arrogant bas—” she hissed.

“Tsk. Tsk, my lady. Such a display of spleen is
hardly conducive to civil discourse, especially when I am come at
your express behest.”

Diana was seething inside but recognized the
truth of her faux pas. Any show of emotion was disadvantageous with
a man like DeVere, who would perceive it as nothing but weakness.
Hiding her temper under a frosty veneer, she showed him to the
withdrawing room, deliberately seating herself in the middle of the
settle, forcing him to maintain a more comfortable distance in a
nearby chair.

“Shall we forgo the niceties, my lord?” she said
without prelude. “You must know that extended conversation with you
is the last thing I desire.”

His lips twitched. “Conversation is last on my
list of preferred activities.”

She gave a disdainful sniff in response to his
innuendo. “I feel I am owed the courtesy of an explanation. As
Vesta’s godmother, she was in my sole charge.”

“Yet Ned wrote explicitly for me to look after
you both while in London.”

“And she is gone! How can you call this looking
after her?” She rose and paced.

DeVere’s mouth formed a harsh line as he tracked
her movements. “I told you she is safe, Diana. My word should have
sufficed.”

“Your word!” Diana spun on him with a derisive
laugh. “Pardon me if I have reason to doubt your integrity, as our
history has proven you have a practice of secrecy and
intrigue.”

Lord DeVere flicked an imaginary speck
from his sleeve. “Your emotions cloud your judgment, Diana.
Our
history
as you call it
has nothing to do with this.”

“I have not given you leave to address me
with such familiarity,
Lord
DeVere.
”

He inclined his head with a mocking stare.
“As you wish,
baroness.
”

“And I have every reason to mistrust you.”

“Do you, indeed? And precisely how have I abused
your good faith?”

Diana realized she had backed herself into a
corner. She had vowed not to give him a display of the bitterness
and hurt she carried like so much unwanted baggage and then had
done precisely that. “None of it matters anymore,” she replied.
“The issue is Vesta.”

“Very well. Have it your way.” DeVere rolled his
eyes with a sigh. “It seems that Vesta and Hew have embarked upon a
short pleasure cruise.”

“A cruise? You refer to an ocean voyage?”

“I do.”

“But how is such a thing possible?”

“As you know,
baroness
, our mutual goddaughter is a young lady
of high spirits. It appears she has taken it upon herself to
spirit away
the object of her
matrimonial fancy—my brother, Captain Hewett DeVere.”

Diana was stunned. “You imply that Vesta has
kidnapped Hew?”

“Just so. After administering a sleeping draught
in his tea, she whisked him off to Greenwich where they boarded a
yacht.”

“A yacht?” she repeated blankly. “And just how
would an eighteen-year-old girl come by such a thing as a
yacht?”

DeVere studied the ceiling. “As I am not in the
least opposed to a union between my best friend’s daughter and my
younger brother, I offered her any resource at my command to
promote the match.” His mouth twitched again. “She took me at my
word.”

“And appropriated a yacht?” Diana collapsed back
onto the settle with an air of incredulity.

“Just so.”

“She is gone to sea with no chaperone? This is
outrageous!”

“I told you she is perfectly safe,” he repeated
in a bored tone. “She was escorted by my man, Pratt, and is under
my brother’s care. You know as well as I that he would not hesitate
to give his life to keep her safe.”

“But she is ruined! Don’t you understand that?”
Diana struggled to contain her fury.

DeVere only looked bored. “Was not the entire
point of coming to London to find some dupe willing to leg-shackle?
If so, my brother is the ideal candidate.”

“Speaking of your brother, don’t you see this
intolerable situation gives him no choice, no recourse, but to wed
her? Is that fair to him?”

DeVere shrugged. “He had recently come to the
decision to wed, and as I stated, there are various advantages to
the match.”

“Advantages to you, mayhap, but what of Hew? Is
he not his own man and fully capable of managing his own life
without your interference?”

DeVere’s gaze narrowed. “Why so concerned for my
brother? One might think you have feelings for Hew.”

“What if I did?” she retorted. “It’s no business
of yours! Besides, your abominable machinations have already
destroyed any potential of that.”

DeVere rose and came to her, perching himself on
the arm of the settle. “My honorable and straitlaced brother could
never satisfy a woman like you, Diana. He could never plumb the
depths of your passion...unlock your secret desires.”

His voice was low and seductive, and the
flickering blue fire in his eyes heated her insides. Diana fiercely
tamped down the smoldering sensation that threatened to reignite
feelings she’d struggled to suppress. “And what would you know of
my wants and desires after four years?”

“A great deal.” He gave her a slow, confident
smile. “Given that I was the one to unleash them.”

Diana averted her face with a bitter
laugh. “Thus you
presume
to
have an exclusive claim to me?”

“Has any other exerted one?” he asked softly.
Nonplussed, he reached out a hand and traced a long, manicured
finger along her jaw. “You are still unwed, Diana. Have you taken
another lover in my absence?”

“It is none of your business whether I have or
not, and you are grossly impertinent to ask.”

He laughed long and low. “I think I have my
answer.”

She glared at him, and thus they remained,
silently challenging one another for an interminable beat. Then
suddenly his mouth was on hers, taking, possessing, as if it was,
indeed, his singular privilege. Diana leaned into him, teasing his
lower lip with her tongue and sucking it eagerly into her mouth
before sinking her teeth into it. Hard. Savoring the coppery taste
of his blood.

“What the hell!” DeVere jerked back with a cry.
He touched his lip and examined the crimson stain on his fingertip,
his expression a mix of outrage and bemusement.

“You took without invitation,” Diana said. “It
was a warning not to do so again.”

“I have never importuned you. As I recall, you
came to me.”

“A mistake I shall never repeat.” Diana rose in
a rustle of silk and crossed the room to pour two glasses of
sherry. “As to Vesta and Hew, I have already written Sir Edward of
what little I knew of the circumstances. I would recommend you do
so as well. I daresay he will not be pleased when he comes to
town.” She took a sip of her drink and offered the other to DeVere,
who had retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket to blot the drops
of blood from his mouth.

“I imagine Vesta and Hew will be happily wed
before that eventuality,” he said. “They should return in two or
three days, and I have already procured the special license.” He
accepted the proffered sherry. Diana smirked when he winced at the
first stinging sip. He shot her a dark look.

“You have quite a habit of taking liberties, my
lord. Do you honestly think Edward will not mind that you
circumvented him in regard to his choice of son-in-law?”

“Ned is inordinately fond of Hew. Moreover, I
have settled substantial monies and properties on my brother to
ensure the comfort and security of his bride. I see no reason for
Ned to object.”

“Mayhap he shall not, but I still think he will
not care a whit for the high-handed and clandestine manner in which
this has all come about.”

“You need not worry yourself about it, my dear.
I shall deal with Ned upon his arrival.”

“I rather think Edward shall deal summarily with
you!” she shot back.

DeVere flinched at her reminder of Ned’s last
show of temper that had rendered him unconscious for nearly a day.
He drained his glass and rose. “If you have no further
questions?”

Diana rang for the footman to lead him out. “No
further questions, but I insist upon speaking with each of them
before any nuptials proceed. I am certain that Edward would not
have Vesta wed under coercion. Swear to me that I will have such
opportunity.”

He inclined his head. “On my word of honor, I
will personally deliver them to your door as soon as they appear.
Now if that is all, I shall take my leave. There are several
matters wanting my attention.”

“Indeed?” She arched a brow. “We wouldn’t want
to keep your concubines waiting now, would we?”

He smirked. “You ill disguise it, you know.”

“What?” she demanded.

“Your jealousy. There is really no need. I would
be delighted to take you back into my bed, Diana. Indeed, I shall
eschew them all upon your command.”