He was standing close enough that she didn’t feel quite as cold, yet she still shivered. He must have noticed. He immediately took off his coat and slipped it over her shoulders. His scent surrounded her, a nice scent that she took a deep breath of. The man did have his gallant moments.
“I’m surprised you’re familiar with the constellations.” He looked up at the sky as well. “Most women aren’t.”
“My education was a little more rounded.”
“And you paid attention?” He grinned.
She chuckled. “Of course! With my father wanting full reports, I had to!”
“How many can you count?”
“I see three.”
“There’s a fourth.”
He was pointing to his left, yet he was gazing down at her. She was arrested by the sudden intensity in his gaze, by how much brighter the amber in his eyes looked, and by his husky tone, which was almost like a caress when he said, “They’re as beautiful as the stars.”
“What is?” she heard herself whisper.
“Your eyes.”
Amanda drew in her breath.
Devin abruptly took her arm, but it was to lead her back inside! He took her straight back to her father, who’d left their table, but was still having a few more words with their hosts. Devin thanked them for the evening, bid them good night, and Amanda was sure he wasn’t going to say another word to her, he seemed so eager to collect Blythe and get out of there.
Yet he did, just two words: “Fishing pole.” Which left her gritting her teeth. They’d actually shared—dare she say—a romantic moment? No, not romantic. That man wouldn’t know
how
to be romantic. But it had been pleasant. Yet trust him to summon forth the rude brute to ruin it.
I
T WASN
’
T DEVIN
’
S HABIT
to do anything spontaneously. But he’d done just that last night when he’d told Amanda he was taking her fishing. What if she brought her father with her again? He couldn’t exactly ask a duke to go fishing with them! This was a good example of why he never did anything spontaneously.
But he had to laugh at himself. A pond was near his farm, but he didn’t even know if it had any fish in it. He’d never exactly had time to find out. He didn’t have a fishing pole, either. His old one was at the Lancashire farm, but he was able to borrow his uncle’s for the day, just in case Amanda took him up on his offer.
But he was going to be late getting to the farm today. Not because of traffic. The residential street was as empty as it usually was that early in the morning. But because the very last thing he ever expected to happen was to pass his father, who was just stepping out of his coach on that quiet street. He didn’t recognize Wolseley at first. He’d never forget that coach,
though, and the crest on it, or how many nights he’d stared at it from his window.
He harbored such a deep rage for this man who had taken his mother’s love and had given so little in return—and had given Devin nothing of himself. The rage rose up, so overwhelming him he didn’t even know how he got off his horse, didn’t even realize he’d slammed his fist into Lawrence Wolseley’s face—until he was looking down at him sprawled on the sidewalk, and Wolseley’s driver leapt down from the coach to try to hold him back from hurting his employer any further.
But it was impossible to restrain him. Devin threw the man off. But some of the maddened haze was starting to clear as he snarled at Lawrence, “You cost me the last months of my mother’s life!”
Lawrence looked confused and angry to have been attacked, he must have assumed, without provocation. He hadn’t changed all that much in the nineteen years since Devin had last seen him. His hair was just as dark, he still dressed just as impeccably. If he was in his fifties yet, he didn’t look it.
“Who are you and what the devil are you talking about?” Lawrence demanded.
“Elaine Baldwin?” Devin reminded the man. “My God, you don’t even remember her?”
“Of course I—Devin? Is that you?”
Only then did it occur to him that Lawrence Wolseley wouldn’t recognize him. Of course he wouldn’t, Devin had been a child the last time they had seen each other. That realization did nothing to assuage his anger, but at least he was no longer blinded by it.
Lawrence waved his driver back from trying again to restrain Devin, but he obviously wished he hadn’t when Devin
said, “You can’t imagine how many times I’ve thought about killing you.”
The man paled. “Is that your intention?”
“I want to know why you’ve ignored me my whole life. Just tell me that. Give me a bloody excuse, anything, so I can understand how a man could—”
“I think you’re under a misconception.”
“Like hell I am!” Devin growled. “She sent me away because of you!”
“No, she sent you away because you were asking questions she felt you were too young to hear the answers to.”
“That I’m a bastard? Did she really think I couldn’t figure that out?”
“Yes, but not mine.”
The mindless rage nearly returned. Devin didn’t think the man would deny it at this point. He could feel the urge to beat the truth out of Wolseley rising within him.
Then, slowly getting to his feet, Wolseley added, “I do have a few, you’re just not one of them. I actually wish you were. But I know your father. I was a friend of his for many years.”
Devin didn’t believe him. “ ‘Was’? I suppose you’re going to tell me he’s dead?”
“
Was
as in ‘not any longer.’ He confided in me and asked me to keep an eye on you and Elaine for him. I’d never met your mother before then. He asked that of me because he didn’t want to do it himself. He thought it would encourage her and it probably would have. He hoped she’d get on with her life and forget about him. Believe it or not, he was fond of Elaine, in his fashion. And she didn’t know he already had a wife when she was involved with him, or she might not have—”
“Had me?” Devin cut in icily.
Lawrence nodded sadly. “I’m not going to pretty him up for you, Devin. Your father was a lecher of the worst sort. Thathe was married, that he even had children from his marriage, he never volunteered any of that personal information until he was ready to move on to the next sexual conquest. Because he was so exceptionally handsome, women fell in love with him all over the country, and he took full advantage of it. But he wasn’t really in the habit of ruining young girls from good families. Your mother was one of the few exceptions.”
Lawrence might sound sincere, even look it, but Devin was still having trouble believing what he was hearing. His whole life he’d thought
this
man was his father.
“She claimed you were our landlord, yet I found out that was a lie when that damned house was left to me. How do you expect me to believe
this
?”
“Because deep down you know it is true. Good God, do you
really
think I could have ignored you if you were mine? Every time I saw you, I saw him, and I already hated him by then. You
do
look like him, you know. Well, obviously you don’t know, but you do. You have his eyes, you have his height. You’re not his spitting image, but I still see the resemblance from when he was a young man.”
“It’s very easy for you to say all this when the one person who could confirm it is dead, yet I
know
you were her lover.”
“Ah, so that’s it, yes, of course it is. No wonder you thought I was your father. Very well, I see I must confess a little more.”
“The truth at this point would be welcome.”
Wolseley actually sounded frustrated when he said, “I’m giving you the truth, as much of it as I can. I didn’t mean to fall in love with your mother. I thought I could check on her and
maintain my distance while doing so. But she was so gracious, so beautiful, and so obviously lonely, being estranged from her family because of her unfortunate situation. I stopped by more often than I should have. We became friends and . . .”
“Lovers.”
“Not immediately. Not until a year later did she admit she’d come to love me. I’d loved her from the beginning, but I never once made any overture until that confession. He’d given her that house. It was the house he’d kept his mistresses in. He gave her nothing else. She was barely getting by that first year. I arranged for her to have a monthly stipend so she could live as she was accustomed to. I didn’t tell her it was from me. For a while she thought it was from him. But she finally figured it out. It may have just been gratitude that turned her feelings for me to love, in the beginning. I don’t know. But she eventually came to love me as much as I loved her. I’m sure of it.”
“Who is he?”
“I can’t tell you that. I am twice sworn not to. And beating me won’t change that!” Lawrence added sharply when Devin started rubbing his fist.
“I’m not going to hit you again.”
Looking relieved, Lawrence continued, “After your mother died, I stopped keeping an eye on you. I don’t know if your father tasked anyone else to do so. I had come to despise him long before she died.”
“Twice sworn to whom?”
“Both of your parents.”
“One is dead and you say you hate the other, so who exactly are you protecting by not giving me his name?”
“I’m not protecting anyone. My word was given. My word
is my honor. But Elaine was going to tell you. She promised she was going to. Even when she knew she was dying, she said she would.”
“How do you know?”
“I was with her those last days,” Lawrence said. “I wouldn’t leave her side.”
Devin’s urge to hit the man returned just for that. “I didn’t see her again from the day she sent me away. She told me nothing!”
“I don’t understand. She was determined that you be informed of his identity when you were old enough to understand why she did what she did. She didn’t want you to know while you were still a child.”
“And how was she supposed to tell me when I reached adulthood? From the grave?! If you know she wanted me to know at this time in my life, then tell me! I’m not a bloody child anymore!”
“I’m sorry, I can’t. But I agree, you should know by now, it just can’t be from me. I don’t know what arrangements she made. She could have left the matter to a solicitor to handle when you reached a certain age. I just don’t know.”
“Is he still alive? You can at least tell me that.”
“I haven’t heard otherwise, but then I don’t live near here. This is my first trip to town in ten years. Elaine was the only thing that kept me in London. I returned to my country estate after she died to devote myself to my own family. I haven’t seen or spoken to your father in over twenty years. But to be honest, I hope he’s dead. That’s how much I hate him, for what he did to her.”
I
T WAS
NOT
a good time for Lord Robert to call. Amanda probably shouldn’t have told the butler that she would receive him and Lord Kendall, if they did call. That could have waited until after the country gathering, where she expected to see them anyway. Besides, she was a bit peeved at him for having disappeared these last couple of weeks. Kendall’s absence was understandable, he hadn’t been in the country long enough to visit other than that once. But what excuse did Robert have for not even appearing at the recent social events?
But there he was, sitting in the parlor with her father when she entered it. While at any other time she might have been thrilled that he was calling on her, this morning she definitely wasn’t.
She was dressed for her riding lesson, and no one other than her family and her riding instructor were supposed to see her wearing that odd skirt! So she was immediately embarrassed by it, which, no doubt, accounted for her not being very cordial to Robert.
But her father was. He’d recognized the name and had casually been grilling the young lord about himself and his family.
Grilling
was an apt way to describe Preston Locke’s conversational style when he wanted information, yet he did it with such finesse, no one could possibly feel he was being interrogated!
Robert immediately leapt to his feet at her entrance, probably glad to be rescued from her father. His blond hair was a bit mussed—had he been nervously running his hand through it? But he was otherwise impeccably dressed in a dark gray suit and appeared just as handsome as she remembered him.