Devil Takes A Bride (28 page)

Gliding forward, she laid one white-gloved hand on the scrolled metal banister. She kept her chin high, as she descended the red-carpeted stairs with queenly grace, her gauzy gown floating around her limbs.

She was luminous like the moon.

Dev was not a man who was easily amazed, but he could not take his eyes off the woman.

His woman.

With an absurd sense of pride cresting through him, he went to her, heedless of the two hundred pairs of eyes fixed on her. In the next moment, the room buzzed, the urgent mystery carrying all the way out the garden, where the main party was in progress.

Who is she?

I don't know her—

Is she Someone?

Matrons clustered to gossip. Dandies who had never noticed Lizzie Carlisle's existence before lifted their quizzing glasses to their haughty eyes, which then filled with interest.

Dev shoved his way toward her through the crowd, his frustration mounting when he found his path blocked by the riot of fashionable guests surrounding her and her popular friends. He particularly disliked the mob of young men forming a blockade around her, pouring out compliments and gallantries upon her.

“My dear Miss Carlisle!”

“By Jove, you look smashing!”

“Have you been on holiday? We haven't seen you in Society in ages!”

 

Lizzie stopped a few steps from the bottom, flattered but a little overwhelmed by the bizarre attentions of the half-dozen young gentlemen she had known for years, Jacinda's former suitors, mostly. They had certainly never made such a fuss over her before. While they clamored for dances, she looked over and saw him—her devil, clad in black.

Her heart leaped. Her blood quickened. He was beautiful enough to steal her breath, just as he always did, she thought, but something was different.

There was a glow in his eyes that she had never seen before. It lit them up like brilliant aquamarines. As he came toward her with an air of unstoppable determination, she felt her heart rising, relief pouring through every vein, for until this moment, she had not been at all sure that he would even come—that her audacity would not fall flat.

But with one look at him coming toward her through the crowd, she forgot the strategems she and Jacinda had so carefully planned out while the ladies' maid did their hair. She had meant to act aloof. But when he came to the bottom of the stairs and held out his white-gloved hand to her, waiting for her to take it with fire in his eyes, risking her rejection in front of the entire ballroom, all games and ruses fled.

She wanted this man—wanted his love. She wanted a chance at the possible future that seemed almost within reach—and so, reaching out to him, she laid her fingers on his offered palm.

His hand closed gently around hers, and he drew her to him, neither of them heeding the dismayed looks of the younger fellows. Lizzie trembled when Devlin lifted her hand to his lips and bent his head to kiss her knuckles in fervent silence.

Jacinda's polite “Ahem!” interrupted their stare. Lizzie steadied herself and glanced over, coloring a bit. She introduced Devlin to her friends; Billy sized him up with a formidable glance, but Jacinda kept her protective, rebel husband smoothly in check, suggesting they remove to a less crowded spot.

Devlin gestured for Lizzie to go ahead of him. Likewise, Billy cleared a path for Jacinda among the guests. With the chandeliers shining on her golden ringlets, Jacinda strode ahead with a blithe smile, doling out nods here and there, while her fierce husband watched her like a man hypnotized. It took nearly twenty minutes for their party to reach the other side of the crowded ballroom, with all the pleasantries that were exchanged. Devlin stuck by Lizzie's side, a fact that was not lost on the ton's gossips. At the end of their long meander, they came to a drawing room that was hardly occupied at all, as most of the guests were either in the ballroom or outside in the vast gardens.

There were several seating areas with gilt-wood chairs and settees upholstered in flowery silk brocade. A few guests lounged in them, chatting and languidly waving their fans. Portraits in ornately carved gilded frames hung on the walls; beneath their feet stretched a colorful carpet in a Greek honeysuckle motif.

Devlin showed Lizzie over to an armchair and sat on the matching stool across from her while Jacinda, her watchful chaperon for the evening, stood a few feet away, introducing Billy to more of the ton's elite. Jacinda sent Lizzie an inquiring glance from behind her fan, her dark eyes asking,
Are you all right?
Lizzie responded with a subtle nod, then turned her uncertain gaze to Devlin.

He was staring at her with the most earnest look on his face that she had ever seen.

“You look incredible,” he whispered.

She smiled and dropped her gaze with a blush stealing into her cheeks. It was a good start, she had to admit. “I received the books you sent. Thanks.”

“Thank you for agreeing to hear me out. I'm not sure I deserve it.”

“Ah, well, my generous nature is legendary,” she said in self-deprecating humor, then looked cautiously into his eyes. “What was it you wanted to say?”

He stared at her for a long moment. “That I capitulate.”

She furrowed her brow in question.

“Never ventured into this before,” he said. “I have no idea how it's done, so you will have to bear with me. I will no doubt try your patience, repeatedly. But I won't play any more games, Lizzie. No more bribes. No abductions. In short, I'm giving you the reins.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” she asked warily, her heart pounding.

He let out a huge sigh. “It means you made me think long and hard on all that you said. You were right on so many points. Look, I don't know what the hell I'm doing when it comes to love, but I'm willing to try. Are you?”

Lizzie felt a tremor of awe run through her, but she swallowed hard, refusing to walk into something that seemed too good to be true. “You're only telling me what you think I want to hear so you can claim your inheritance. This is because of the money. Admit it.”

“Oh, yes,
completely,
” he whispered with a rakish smile spreading over his lips and a deepening smolder coming into his eyes. “All I could possibly want is the money,” he agreed as his stare inched down her body. “It has nothing to do with your beauty or brains. Your integrity, the way you care about the people around you. Not your wit, your honesty. And of course it has nothing to do with the fact that I haven't been with a woman since I came to your bed back in February.”

“Devlin!” she forced out in a breathless tone, slightly scandalized by his admission. Fluttering her fan with a nervous air, she glanced around to make sure no one had heard him.

He smiled in faint amusement at her. “Lizzie. I've wanted us to be together since I met you, and you know it's true, because even in Bath, I offered to make you my mistress. To you, it may have seemed like an insult, but for me, that was a fairly big step. I want to do right by you. You're good for me, and I think I'm good for you.”

“Don't toy with me, Devlin.” She could barely find her voice. “You could hurt me so badly.”

“I won't.” He leaned nearer. “I'm not Alec. You've got to trust me, Lizzie. You've at least got to give me a chance. That's only fair.” He took her hand gently between both of his.

She noticed Billy eyeing her with a protective frown, until Jacinda reached up and caught her husband's chin between her fingers, turning his attention back to herself again with tender insistence that seemed to say,
Leave them alone
.

“Here's what I propose,” Devlin murmured, gazing into her eyes. “Let me court you properly, by the book. Let's try it out, see what happens. We'll take it slowly; do the things that courting couples do, and see if we might actually suit. If, at the end of the three months my aunt's will specified, we feel that we do, then we'll marry. If we don't—”

“Then they'll throw you into the Fleet.”

“That's not your problem,” he soothed. “Don't worry your pretty head about me,
chérie
. I'll survive.”

She plucked her hand gingerly out of his light hold and scanned his finely chiseled face in suspicion. “I'm still not sure what to make of all this. Why are you being so nice?”

“Oh, it's really rather simple,” he answered, lounging back on his hands with a worldly smile. “When you bested me the other night, rode off on that silly pony—” Soft amusement played at his lips at the memory, his gaze faraway. “—I discovered that it is not ‘winning' for me if it's ‘losing' for you. Surely you must've realized how easily I could have recaptured you if I had wanted to.”

“But you let me go,” she said softly. “Why?”

“Because I was wrong in the first place, and because I realized I can't be happy in all this unless you're happy, too.”

“Devlin?” she murmured cautiously, studying him in wonder. “I think that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Well, then.” He sent her a lazy, provoking grin. “Perhaps I shall prove to have a knack for this love business, after all.”

“Devil,” she whispered, laughing as she blushed and dropped her gaze.

“Dare I hope that pretty smile means you are amenable to my suit, Miss Carlisle? Will you let me court you?”

As if she could say no.

“I was told once you would dare anything, Lord Strathmore,” she answered shyly.

“Really? Me? Such tales people tell,” he replied in a chiding whisper, leaning closer.

Lizzie felt herself swept up in the magnetic pull of his attraction, losing all awareness of the other guests in the room. She longed for his kiss, and he seemed more than willing to oblige her, but her neophyte chaperon suddenly stepped between them.

“Now, then, darlings, shall we take a stroll in the garden?” Jacinda interrupted brightly.

“Absolutely,” Dev replied, sending Lizzie a twinkling glance.

After he helped her gallantly to her feet, the four of them left the house through the French doors that opened onto the grounds. Outside in the balmy spring twilight, Devlin's protective touch at her elbow steered her toward the striped open tents where refreshments had been set up. Jacinda dispatched the men to fetch them each a goblet of champagne punch. The moment their broad backs were turned, Lizzie spun to face her friend with a wide-eyed look.

“Well?” Jacinda prodded.

Lizzie gripped her forearm, trying to contain her crazed joy. “Oh, Jas,” she whispered. “He's adorable!”

Jacinda barely suppressed a girlish squeal of excitement. “Do you love him?”

“A little, I think!” She giggled, her eyes sparkling, cheeks aglow.

“Oh, Lizzie, he really is perfect for you! He's just dev-ine!”

Lizzie elbowed her, fighting laughter. “Dev-astating!”

“I'll bet you can hardly wait to dev-our him! Good Lord, I thought he was going to kiss you right there in the drawing room!”

“I wouldn't put it past him. He's quite mad.”

“The best lovers always are,” she agreed in a scandalous murmur. “Dear me, I do hope Billy's not threatening his life—or his manhood.” Jacinda tapped her folded fan against her cheek as she searched the crowd for the two tall, handsome men, then let out an amused yet pitying sigh. “It'll be bad enough when it comes time to meet my brothers. Poor Billy was lucky to survive the interview.”

“They're not going to care. You're their sister. It's different.”

“Oh, Lizzie, won't you ever learn? You never had to marry Alec to be part of our family. You always were and always will be.”

She turned to her, taken aback by her frank declaration, when suddenly they were interrupted by a pair of Jacinda's shallow Society friends.

“Oh, Lady Truro!”

The two ostentatiously dressed and bejeweled young wives crowded Lizzie out to kiss the air beside Jacinda's cheeks as they greeted her. “Darling, it's so nice to see you!”

“What a gorgeous gown!”

“You
are
coming to our charity breakfast next week?”

“Of course, my dears. I wouldn't miss it for the world!” Jacinda responded, adroitly deflecting their artificiality back onto them. She had to live in their world, after all, but she did not bother trying to introduce them to Lizzie, who had long since expressed her aversion to such creatures. The ladies failed to notice the deft irony in Jacinda's smiling answers.

Lizzie, being no one of any consequence, was ignored, and was glad of it. She turned from the shower of vapid conversation and took a few steps away, glancing into the crowd in the direction Devlin had gone. She did not spot him, but upon turning around again, suddenly found herself face-to-face with Alec.

The lantern behind him threw a glimmering halo over his golden hair and broad shoulders, but it cast his comely face in shadow. Hands in pockets, he stared at her with a hapless smile and a great air of weariness. “Hullo, Bits.”

“Lord Alec.” She nodded to him, instantly going on her guard.

“You look wonderful.” His deep voice was as soft as a sigh.

She did not answer, but coming from such a leader of fashion, she supposed dryly that she ought to have swooned at the compliment. His admiring glance traveled over her. “It's good to see you here tonight. Daresay you're causing quite a stir,” he murmured with a faint smile of pride in her. “I wasn't sure you were ever coming back into Society.”

“Well, time heals all, they say,” she remarked in a breezy tone.

He lowered his head, contrite as a choirboy. “I'm glad to hear it.” He paused. “I've been thinking about you a lot lately, since that day I saw you with the children. I was hoping we could talk sometime soon.”

“I'm not sure there's anything to say.”