AVON
BOOKS
An Imprint
of Harper Collins Publishers
New York
,
Copyright © 2005 by Karen Hawkins
Excerpts from
Just Like a Man
copyright © 2005 by Elizabeth Bevarly;
The Trouble With Valentine’s Day
copyright © 2005 by Rachel Gibson;
Flirting With Danger
copyright © 2005 by Suzanne Enoch;
Lady in Red
copyright © 2005 by Karen Hawkins ISBN: 0-06-058406-8
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
My grandfather was an unpleasant old man. After he died, I frequently heard my grandmother say she missed him like a wooden leg. Though she’d grown used to his bark over the years, she didn’t miss a single splinter and limped along just fine without him.
Mrs. Welterby to the Countess of Firth, while waiting for the Prince to make an appearance in the drawing room of Carlton House
Devon St. John paced before the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, his brow furrowed. His abrupt footfalls, silenced by the thick rug that stretched the length of the huge chamber, were overshadowed by the crackle of burning logs.
Suddenly, he halted before a large wing-back chair turned toward the warming flames. “I know.
You
can tell him.”
“Me?” His brother, Brandon, shook his head, the firelight casting blue shadows through his black hair. “The last time I delivered bad news to Marcus, he sent me to oversee the holdings in northern Scotland
for a month. I nearly froze to death.”
Chase glanced up from where he slouched on the settee opposite. “I was once sent to the wilds of Yorkshire
in the middle of the season for an equally inane reason. And that was back during the time when our brother was tolerable.”
“Which has not been of late,” Brandon
said.
Chase nodded morosely. “Lately, he has been nothing but a seething mass of ill temper. God knows where he’d order us now if he had a true reason to be upset.”
Devon
sighed heavily. “I must apologize to all of you; this is my fault.”
The last and quietest member of the gathering finally stirred to life. Devon
’s half brother, Anthony Elliot, the Earl of Greyley, stretched his legs toward the fire from the depths of a huge red velvet chair. He surveyed Devon
with a sleepy air. “Nonsense. The ring was lost by accident and nothing more.”
“I should have made more of an effort to find it. But somehow, I thought it would be humorous to send Marcus chasing about for the blasted thing.”
“It was amusing,” Brandon
said, “until Marcus could not find it. You sent Marcus the guest list for the ball where the ring disappeared, and we were all certain that ring would be in the hands of one of those guests.”
Chase nodded. “Indeed, had the guests not brought guests of their own—that is where we caught cold. And now Marcus’s humor wears more thin as the days pass and the ring is not found. He’s like a great bear denied his food.”
Anthony shrugged. “So let him growl. He is but a man.”
“You know what Marcus is,” Devon
said. “Our brother is a gale wind in a world of gentle breezes.”
Brandon
sighed and slouched back in his chair. “He definitely has some very odd notions about marriage. I’m in poor case with him this very moment because Verena’s father got into some trouble with the Italian authorities and I had to pay the scoundrel’s way out of it. Marcus disapproved mightily.”
Chase’s brows lowered. “What else could you do? It’s Verena’s father.”
“Marcus does not seem to understand that when you marry a woman, to some extent, you also marry her family.”
“There’s a lot about marriage Marcus doesn’t understand,” Anthony murmured, reclaiming his glass of port and taking another sip. “He seems to understand the concept of having a mistress far better.”
“That he does. But a wife is a different matter altogether.” Chase rose from the settee and stretched his arms over his head before crossing to the desk to pour himself a drink from a crystal decanter. “Lately he’s been snappish. In fact, Harriet wanted to invite him to our new house for the holidays—”
“Excellent!” Brandon
said, brightening immediately. “Bloody excellent!”
Everyone looked his way.
“Oh uhm, sorry.” Brandon
smiled uneasily. “Verena had the same idea, though I had no wish to have Marcus growling his way through our holidays. She and I finally agreed that we would invite him only if none of you did. But since Chase and Harriet are going to invite him—”
“You didn’t give me time to finish my sentence,” Chase said. “Harriet
wanted
to invite him, but then reconsidered. There’s precious little to entertain Marcus out in the country, and since Harriet’s not feeling well…” Chase grinned a little as he lifted his glass in a seeming toast. “Yet another reason I’m glad my lovely wife is increasing.”
Brandon
grimaced. “I wish Verena was increasing as well, especially if it would keep Marcus away from us during the holidays. He’s become a grump. Only yesterday he said that Christmas was a waste of time and energy and he hated all the fuss.”
Devon
sighed. “He’s impossible. He hasn’t spoken a civil word to me since I lost the ring, and that was months ago. I must admit, I thought the blasted thing would be easier to re-cover than this.” He rubbed his chin, a frown in his blue eyes. “It’s almost as if the ring doesn’t wish to be found.”
Silence met this. Finally, Chase cleared his throat. “We have never really talked about it, but… are we all agreed about the ring?” He eyed his brothers carefully. “The legend is true?”
Anthony noted that his other brothers appeared uneasy with that bold question. The silence grew thick and then thicker. He supposed he couldn’t fault them; after all, the ring had contributed in some way to each of their marriages. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I believe it.”
“And I,” Brandon
said, sending him a grateful look.
“So do I,” Chase added with a relieved nod.
“I didn’t want to, but now…” Devon
managed a half smile before he shrugged. “If it hadn’t been for the talisman ring, I don’t believe I would have ever slowed down long enough to appreciate Kat for who and what she is. That would have been a tragedy indeed.”
Anthony nodded. “For us all.” He leaned his head back against the red velvet cushion. “
Devon
, there is no other way about it; you might as well just admit your failure to Marcus. He will be home in another hour.”
“I know, I know. But I can’t just blurt it out.”
“The quicker you tell him, the quicker it will be over.”
“The quicker what will be over?” came a deep voice from behind them.
Devon
whirled toward the now open door. Chase, who had just taken a drink of port, began to cough, then choke. Brandon
straightened in his chair, unconsciously smoothing his coat.
Anthony, meanwhile, kept his expression carefully neutral, watching his half brother with interest.
“Don’t answer all at once,” Marcus drawled softly as he crossed the thick rug to his desk. He was built as were all the St. Johns
, tall and lithe with broad shoulders and narrow hips.
He paused by the desk, his dark blue gaze silently assessing them, his black hair matching his elegant black coat and breeches.
Though it was the rage to wear brighter colors in the day and reserve the darker colors for evening, Marcus dressed as he always did—to please himself. And over the last year, his clothing had gradually become more and more stark, mirroring his mood. Today he was dressed in unrelenting black from head to toe, the one exception being his snowy white cravat. Anthony wondered if it was the absence of color that made Marcus’s blue eyes seem so deadly and piercing and so hard of late.
What had happened to the old Marcus? The one who had teased and laughed? Somehow, over the years, he’d faded from sight. Anthony felt a twinge of guilt. Had they allowed Marcus’s duties to the family fortune and lands to become too burdensome?
Of course, Marcus rarely allowed anyone to assist him. And Anthony, head of his own household, could appreciate that. There were times when it was simply easier to do than to explain. But still… Marcus had changed, and it wasn’t for the better.
Devon
cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, Marcus. I— We—We thought you weren’t due for another hour.”
Marcus lifted his brows. “You thought wrong.” His blue gaze, icy and relentless, flickered over Devon
, then over each member of the small gathering. “All of you.”
“Yes. Well.” Brandon
sent a warning glance at his brothers. “You startled us.”
Marcus took this remark in silence, seating himself behind the desk and pulling the day’s correspondence in front of him. He began to flip through the letters, then paused to cast a glance at Devon
. “The talisman ring? I assume you have good news.”
Anthony nodded at Devon
, silently encouraging him to speak.
Devon
clasped his hands behind his back, shifting from one foot to the other. “We… we were just talking about that. I attempted to interview Lady Talbot, who was the only person from the guest list who we hadn’t yet spoken to. She brought someone to the ball with her, a female guest. Unfortunately, Lady Talbot died a month ago and no one seems to know the guest’s name.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
Devon
hurried to add, “Lady Talbot had two servants. Neither could recall the name of the young lady their mistress took to the ball as her guest. They said the lady was a new acquaintance.”
Marcus cursed, long and low.
Devon
sighed. “I said the exact same thing, I assure you. The housekeeper remembered the young woman mentioning that she would be taking the mail coach through Southampton
, so I went there and made some inquiries.”
“And?” Marcus snapped.
Anthony winced. The word was more a bullet burst than a question, razor sharp and just as piercing.
Devon
swallowed. “I could find nothing. I stayed two days and then…” He took a deep breath and said quickly, “And then I returned to Scotland
because I’d promised Kat I’d be there for her new nephew’s christening. It is her brother’s first child, and the entire family is—”
“Blast!” Marcus threw his pen back onto the desk, his brows drawn. “That ring belonged to Mother. She left it in our care and you lost it.”
“By accident,” Anthony murmured, shooting a reproachful glance at Marcus. “As you well know.”
Marcus’s gaze flared, but Anthony refused to back down. After a moment, Marcus’s mouth tightened and he managed a short shrug. “Accident or not, it is gone.”
“It fell off Kat’s hand,” Devon
said, his brow lowered. “You know I would never willingly lose Mother’s ring. Be-sides, I have done what I could do to help find it. When I realized I couldn’t stay in Southampton
any longer because of my commitments, I sent Chase in my stead.”
Chase took a quick gulp of his drink. “Yes. And because of the description Devon
was able to get from Lady Talbot’s housekeeper, I thought to at least get the name of the mystery woman, but I had no such luck.”
“Description?” Marcus glanced at Devon
.
“Lady Talbot’s housekeeper remembered the woman well enough, though not her name. She was tallish and well-formed, with hazel eyes and dark brown hair. But the detail that I had hoped might allow us to find her was that she had a streak of white in her hair, at the temple.”