Devall's Angel (31 page)

She laughed.

“And you, Angela?”

“Much better, thank you. I’ve been too busy to think about the attack.”

“You look tired,” he murmured, joining her on her bench. “Your brother must be too preoccupied to see that you get proper rest.”

“He is so anxious to have it over and done with that he’s not much good for anything.” She shook her head in mock despair, then hurriedly changed the subject to distract her attention from his eyes. They were softer than she had ever seen them, closer to smoke than to ice. “I hear you are accepted without reservation by even the highest sticklers.”

“Yes, and now I am expected to do the pretty with nauseating regularity. I am not sure you and Jack did me any favors by urging reform. Every matchmaking mama in town has me in her sights.”

“It will give you a new challenge. Life would be unimaginably dull otherwise. Besides, the Season is nearly over. You can retire to Wyndhaven and remain as reclusive as you wish. Even matchmaking mamas can hardly follow you there.”

“Don’t count on it. The Earl of Wrexham had three very suspicious accidents on his doorstep before he married, but nary a one since.”

She raised a brow, though now that he mentioned it, she had heard the tale before. Wrexham was Hart’s closest friend.

“And what about next Season and the one after that?” he asked. “I’d best get shackled at once and save myself the trouble.”

“What a ridiculous reason to settle down!” She glared at him. “I never thought you stupid, but I begin to wonder.”

He ran long fingers through his black hair. “Damn, I’m making a mull of this, aren’t I? And behaving with as much gaucherie as the greenest schoolboy. That is not at all what I meant to say. You have done more than force me back into the world, my dear. You have given me a glimpse of heaven. Now I can no longer tolerate living in hell. This last fortnight has been shatteringly lonely, for I cannot enjoy a day that offers no hope of seeing you. I love you, Angela. Somehow you have crept past all my defenses and taken possession of my heart.”

“Devall?” Her hand crept up to brush back the lock of hair that had again fallen across his brow.

In one smooth motion he pulled her to her feet and into his arms, crushing her against his body as he desperately sought her mouth, parting her lips so his tongue could ravish her sweet depths.

Passion exploded, chasing away his darkness and strengthening the hope that had burgeoned from the moment she had welcomed him. Her hands slid into his hair, drawing him closer.

“Angela.” He sighed, pressing kisses across her face and down her throat.

“Devall.” She nibbled on his ear, shooting new heat deep into his groin. “May I please shorten that? If you are to cease living in hell, I cannot continue calling you after Satan.”

“Anything, my love. You will marry me, then?”

“Have you truly forsworn visiting retribution on deserving villains?” She pulled back to scan his face, her own serious. “There can be no more duels, Dev. No more deaths. I cannot live with the fear of losing you, my dearest love.”

He tightened his arms. “You can save me from myself. I could never expose you to contempt. From now on I will fight my battles in Parliament and the courts. It will be slow, but with your help, I can control my frustration.”

“Good.” She sighed in relief, pulling his lips down for another searing kiss, her palms sliding beneath his jacket to learn the muscular breadth of his shoulders. There was much to be said for loose-fitting coats. This one slid easily to the floor.

“Put me out of my misery, love,” he pleaded hoarsely. “Will you marry me or not? One of his hands still held her close, her body fitted snugly against his. The other teased one breast to a rigid peak, leaving her gasping in awe and need.

“Yes.”

The smile that lit his face was like nothing she had seen before, as though heaven had parted, its holy light quenching the hellfire that had burned so long in his soul. Handsome? Undoubtedly. Few would have recognized the Black Marquess in that moment of revelation. He sealed their bargain with another passionate embrace, pulling away only when his control began to slip.

Settling onto the bench with Angela in his lap, he gently stroked her until her breathing slowed. His smile changed to one of mischief as he retrieved his coat.

“You once mentioned that you must marry before your brother, so that you will not be a burden on him,” he reminded her, pulling a special license from his pocket.

“So I did.”

“Tomorrow morning? Privately, before your brother leaves for his own?”

“Done. It might even distract him from his nerves.”

He laughed, and for the first time, his voice carried no hint of pain or loneliness. He was free. “My angel.” His lips again covered hers.

His waistcoat and cravat joined his jacket on the floor.

Copyright © 1998 by Susan Ann Pace

Originally published by Signet Regency (0451195863)

Electronically published in 2006 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.