Deverell's Obsession: A Risqué Regency Romance (14 page)

“Ahh.” Léonie nodded, although her memory of this woman was very vague indeed. “It is a pleasure to see you again, my Lady.”

“Just Jean, please.” They recommenced their progress toward the ballroom. “And is your father here this evening? I recall how in demand he was in Vienna.”

“No, he has not been able to attend many functions recently. The press of his work, you know. And the need to travel frequently on various matters of diplomatic import.”

It was a stock answer, one Léonie had perfected to cover times like these when she had no clue where her father actually
was
.

“A shame indeed. You must miss him.”

“Of course.”

Thankful that courtesy forbade Lady Montgomery from pressing for any more information, Léonie looked for the staircase. “You must forgive me, my Lady. I suspect my fiancé will be wondering where I am.”

“That would be the estimable Mr. Deverell. I saw the happy announcement in the papers. A delightful man, I hear, so I wish you all the joy you deserve, Miss Girard.”

“Thank you. You are very kind. I hope you will enjoy the rest of the evening.”

Léonie moved away and mounted the staircase, dismissing the brief interlude from her mind. It had happened on more than a few occasions and was a fact of life for those in certain circles. Diplomacy was one of those circles.

Although there had been something a little unsettling in Lady Montgomery’s gaze…

Locating Dev wasn’t as easy as it had sounded, since the orchestra had struck up a lively waltz and many couples thronged the floor. But from the staircase she could see over the whirling mass of heads.

One couple immediately caught her attention. That dress stood out like a flame in a hearth full of glowing embers.

And there was Dev, holding Amelia DeVere and whisking her around the floor in a graceful waltz.

She sighed as she watched them. She believed Dev when he’d avowed that there had been no affair between them. There was no rational reason why she should believe him, but her instincts were seldom wrong. They told her Dev didn’t like prevarication.

But they also told her that Amelia was a woman who enjoyed making trouble, for no other reason than she could. Léonie had also told the truth—women like Amelia were everywhere there was money, elegance, parties, titles and the opportunity to revel in all of it.

So she watched them, but also watched the rest of the crowd as well, tapping her foot to the rhythm and smiling as it drew to a close.

Just as the applause broke out, something very hard hit her sharply right on the bare skin between her shoulders and she turned on a gasp.

“Owww…”

“Oh my dear girl, forgive me.” A gentleman was walking down the steps toward her. “My button. It just popped right off my waistcoat.”

Léonie blinked. “You shot me with a button?”

The gentleman’s eyebrows rose. “Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that, but I suppose…” He stared at her.

She stared back.

And then they both smiled and began to laugh.

“I cannot apologize enough, Ma’am.”

Léonie curtseyed. “I am Léonie Girard, and no apologies are necessary, sir. No damage done and one cannot blame a poor simple button for surrendering at an inconvenient moment, can one?”

“You are quite right indeed.” He bowed. “Palmerston at your service, Miss Girard.” He frowned “Wait.
Girard
. Are you related to Colonel Anatole Girard, the diplomat?”

“I have the honor to be his daughter, my Lord.” Léonie had recognized the Secretary of War as soon as he mentioned his name.

“He’s a great man, you know. I haven’t met him yet, but his name is legend here in London. What a pleasure to meet his daughter.” Lord Palmerston beamed at her and offered his arm. “May I escort you somewhere? Preferably before anyone realizes I’m here.” He leaned toward her as she took his arm. “I had to bribe that damn butler not to announce me. Can’t get a minute of peace and quiet at these things, but one’s duty takes many forms, you know.”

“I can well imagine your popularity, my Lord, and how it is enhanced by the air of power you wear so well.”

His chuckle rumbled through him. “Well said.”

At that moment, Dev appeared at the bottom of the steps. “There’s my escort, my Lord. He’ll be pleased to find me in such august company.”

“Pshaw.” Palmerston huffed. “Deverell, lad. Is this angel yours?”

“How do you do, sir.” Dev bowed. “Pleasure to see you this evening, and yes, she is indeed mine so you’ll have to give her back now. Our engagement was formally announced just this week.”

“Lucky lad.” He passed Léonie’s hand to Dev. “Take care of her. I have a feeling she’ll be following in her father’s footsteps someday. A born diplomat if ever I saw one.”

“I will, sir. Never fear.”

“Miss Girard.” Lord Palmerston bowed, smiled and moved away to be swallowed up by the crowd.

“What a charming gentleman. And devoted to this country, I hear. He turned down the Exchequer in favor of the Secretary of War’s office.”

Dev was once again stunned at his fiancée’s political knowledge. “You’re quite right.”

She smiled at him. “Don’t look so surprised. I have spent most of my life listening and remembering chance comments, political opinions and diplomatic arrangements. I had to know who did what, especially as I got older and participated more often in events such as these.”

They were strolling as she spoke, circling the dancers and avoiding onlookers as best they could.

“Well, Palmerston has certainly fallen before your charm and intellect.” He grinned. “And you’re right. At the moment he’s desperately trying to interest the government in upgrading our naval defenses. He feels that England’s coastline is too vulnerable in places that matter. I just read an article he wrote on the value of ports such as Southampton and Portsmouth, and how easily they could be attacked. His solution is to put a battery on the Isle of Wight. The Needles, of all places. And he wonders why it’s a difficult concept to sell to his peers.”

“The Needles? What are the Needles?” Léonie turned her head to look up at him.

“They’re rocks, a strange rock formation off the very tip of the Isle of Wight. Chalk, I think. And the one that looked like a needle fell down a generation ago, but there are still three left…”

She was clutching his arm with fingers of iron as the significance of what he had just said rocked her to her slippers. “Dev,” she whispered urgently. “Needles.”

“Yes.” He looked puzzled, but covered her hand with his. “The Needles…”

Suddenly his eyes widened. “You can’t think…”

“Oh my God, yes I can.” She turned fully, facing him, her expression excited and intense. “Needles sew. Where the sands sew the sea.”

“It could be.”

She could almost see his mind whirling at what she was suggesting.

“Yes, it could be. Where else would fit that clue so well?”

“By God, if you’re right…” Dev swallowed.

“If I’m right we’ll find something there at sunset. Stars. Or a star. Or
something
.” She grabbed him by his jacket. “We have to go there, Dev. Perhaps my father is there…”

He took her hands in his, easing them away from his jacket but holding them tight. “I know. We will. As soon as we can make arrangements.”

The music began again behind them. Léonie barely heard it, and then only as an annoying distraction. “Dev,” she began, “would it be a terrible insult to the Gallunders if we left? I’m too excited to concentrate on something as frivolous as a ball when it looks as if we might have solved a very important clue…”

Dev smiled. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Fifteen

Leaving a message for Aunt Bertrande was simple, since she was engaged in a fierce game of cards with several of her cronies. She simply nodded and waved the two of them off.

“How will she get home?” Léonie whispered to Dev as they left the card room.

“She has many acquaintances, and more than a few admirers, who will be happy to see her home safely. She does it all the time.”

Dev put his arm beneath Léonie’s and led her to the foyer where they collected her wrap and summoned the carriage.

They were both quiet on the short ride back to Deverell House, each busy with their thoughts.

Dev’s were divided between trying to remember if he’d ever been to the Isle of Wight, and what he was going to do about the woman sitting across from him, gazing silently out into the darkened streets.

He wanted her so very much. Not because of her ability to swan through a major social event without a falter, nor because she could speak several languages and capture the admiration of everyone from Princes to butlers.

He wanted her because something deep inside was telling him one thing only.

His life would never be the same without her.

They arrived at their front door and Dev helped her down the carriage steps, earning a brief smile of thanks.

Only when they were inside and indulging in a small snifter each of brandy did Léonie break her silence.

“So we will travel to see these Needles. We have to, I think.”

Dev nodded. “Yes. I’ve turned it over in my mind and it does make a lot of sense. The sunset will illuminate the cliff face—there’s a thin beach there, I can’t remember the name of it—but that would be the first place to explore.”

She smiled. “That’s good. I look forward to finding out what awaits us there.” Then she put down her snifter and walked to Dev. “We must talk, Dev.”

He put down his glass as well. “I know.”

She put her hands on him and ran them up to his shoulders. “Kiss me first.”

He put his hands on her waist and pulled her against him. “All right.”

The first touch of her lips and he was lost, falling once again into that magnificent chasm of delight and desire. She was warm and soft and opening her mouth for him, welcoming his tongue even as she thrust hers past it to learn his taste.

There was hunger and heat, need and pleasure, all the things that such contact should inspire. And it rocked Dev all the way from his toes to his eyebrows.

He pulled her closer, loving her indrawn breath as she lifted to her tiptoes and parted her thighs, opening a space for his bulging cock to nestle. He wished they were naked. He’d do a lot more with that cock than
nestle
.

She moved away and struggled with his buttons.

He put a hand over hers, stilling her. “Léonie. Wait.”

“Why?”

“Are you sure?”

“I want to touch you, Dev. I want my heart beating against yours. Is that so wrong? I want to kiss you and feel that I’m as close to you as I can be without disappearing inside you.”

Her words inflamed him and he tore at his waistcoat, letting her work his shirt buttons as he loosened the laces of her gown and pulled it away from her shoulders.

True to her word, as soon as his chest was bare, she shrugged off the thin lace chemise and pushed her breasts against his heat.

And Dev damn near exploded right then and there. Especially when she moaned with pleasure, moved a little to rub her hard nipples over his flesh and then closed her eyes to relish the sensation.

Her delight, her uninhibited sensuality—nearly pushed him beyond his limits. But at the back of his mind was the thought that their first time wasn’t going to be on the carpet of the small salon, good though it sounded right now.

He wanted it to be comfortable, and prolonged. All night if possible. At least many times. A floor did not offer such luxuries and he knew neither of them would enjoy carpet burns on various portions of their anatomies.

So he clamped down on his physical responses as best he could, and tried to focus on the moment, the sensation of her soft breasts against him, her warmth, the tiny buds of her nipples as they dug into his chest.

How long they stayed thus, he had no idea.

Time paused, the world slid to a standstill, and there was nothing for Dev but the taste of Léonie, the touch of Léonie, the magic of Léonie. She was his universe and he was drifting in her, lost within the spells their embrace created.

She whimpered softly, dragging her hand down over his body and sliding it around to his back beneath his shirt.

She touched him as if he was something precious, a learning caress stroking his spine and his torso.

He wanted to do the same, but he knew if he did it wouldn’t stop there and there would be many carpet burns.

He was about to sweep her off her feet and upstairs to his bed when she finally pulled away.

“Ah Dev, this is so good. What we have, what you make me feel when you kiss me and touch me.”

He knew she was saying something, but her breasts were bare and it was an understood truth of the human male that exposure to naked female breasts tended to cause deafness.

“Uhhh…”

“Yes, it’s good. And I like looking at you as well.”

He jerked himself out of his bosom-induced stupor. “Léonie…come to my room.”

She backed away and pulled her chemise up, covering herself to Dev’s disappointment. Then she shook her head. “I want to. Believe me, I want to. Every inch of my body wants to feel yours, every nerve ending is screaming for your touch.”

“Then…”

“I’m afraid.” She said it simply and without any expression, just a clear statement of fact.

“I would never hurt you, love.”

“I know that.” She smiled, a ray of sunshine. “Of course I know that. I also know that for us to be together would be something quite magnificent. I want to give you every pleasure one body can give another. I’m quite weak just imagining it.” She swallowed. “I desire you, Dev. I can almost feel how wonderful it would be to have you lay with me and be inside me. We are destined to explore each other and someday soon we will.”

He sighed. “But not tonight.”

“No, not tonight. I cannot, much as I want to.”

“May I ask why? You said you wanted to give me every pleasure—I want to give that back and more.”

She turned away. “I do want to give you everything, Dev. But I spoke the truth. I am afraid.”

He walked to her and rested his hands on her shoulders, tugging gently so that she leaned against him. “Tell me.”

“I’m afraid of giving you the one thing I’ve never given to anyone. Ever.”

“I don’t understand,” he said, enfolding her in his arms.

“How to explain. It’s difficult. I had a good childhood, Dev, with parents who took care of me. I had a brief marriage with a young man I liked very much. I have made friends and enjoyed their company. It was all very neat and organized and civilized. It was also devoid of any deep emotion, because such things were not expected in our society.” She paused and he could feel her lungs fill with air as she took a breath. “But the one thing I’ve never given to
anyone
—is my heart.”

Dev was quiet for a long moment as the bits and pieces fell into place. “I understand, love. But let me just say one thing here. I gave you my heart long before I met you. I began the process with that painting, never realizing there was a real woman out there who could entrance me even more.” He dropped a light kiss on her hair.

“Oh Dev.”

“Hush, I haven’t finished. Just know this. We are, as you say, destined to be together. I think I knew that when I first laid eyes on you. But I’m not a randy young rake, and I can wait until the time is right. Until we no longer have shadows around us or mysteries to solve. I can wait until the only mystery is how many times in one night I can make you scream out my name. So until that time, just know that yes, I love you. And you are the first woman to whom I have ever given those words. I will never regret saying them, Léonie.”

She lifted her hands to cover his. “Thank you, Dev.”

“I will leave you. I don’t want to, but we do have a long journey ahead of us and we both need some rest.” He didn’t mention that the likelihood of him resting was miniscule. Why stir that pot?

She turned and gave him a smile that illuminated his soul. “You are a good man Dev, and I am blessed to have met you. I’m blessed that you say you love me. And once I understand what that means, I will be able to tell you as well. I know it.”

“Don’t make me wait too long.” He moved away but brushed his palm over her cheek.

“I won’t.” She shook her head. “I’m almost there. Good night.”

In what was a feat of unimaginable control, Dev turned and left her.

Then spent the next hour telling his cock to lie down and go to sleep, and finally, as a last resort, taking matters into his own hands. Afterward, he sighed into his pillow and hoped Léonie was as restless as he was, damn her.

*~~*~~*

Léonie met Dev over breakfast at an unusually early hour the next day. She wanted to glower at him and curse him for causing her to toss and turn through most of a sleepless night.

However, since his face indicated that he was of much the same mind, she decided upon silence, merely nodding and murmuring a polite “good morning.”

After they’d both revived themselves with tea and food from the serving dishes set out for them, Léonie spoke at last. “Will it take us a long time to reach the Isle of Wight?”

“I hope not.” Dev smothered a yawn. “We’ll use the travelling carriage to Southampton. We have to do it in one day, but that is a long trip…”

“Don’t concern yourself about me. If we can do it in a day, then I say let’s be on the road.”

Dev grinned. “It’ll be more than ten hours…”

“Of which it’s most likely we’ll sleep for five.”

“Good point.” He nodded. “Very well. I’ll send a groom off to arrange for a change of horses along the way. Are you packed?”

“Give me an hour and I will be ready.”

Dev lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Do not give me
that
look. I have traveled extensively, and quite often at the drop of a hat. I know what I do and don’t need, so an hour will be more than adequate.” She rose from her chair. “In the hall by the front door. One hour.”

“As you wish.” He still sounded unconvinced.

She turned for the door. “And I shall also ask Cook for a basket to take with us.”

“Oh, good idea.”

“Yes. You would have forgotten, no doubt.”

Leaving the room, she swore she heard him mutter something along the lines of “…snippy…”

But true to her word, she was ready and waiting in the front hall with one fabric bag and a matching portmanteau. The basket stood ready for loading into the carriage.

Ten minutes later Dev appeared, looking ruffled and shrugging into his coat. “I had to leave instructions for the staff and a note for Aunt Bertie. She will worry if I don’t tell her where we’re going.”

“Of course.” She inclined her head, knowing full well that the house could function smoothly without any input at all from its master. But Aunt Bertie was a valid point. “Did you make sure to tell her we were not going to be alone anywhere overnight?”

“Yes.” Dev glanced at her. “I wouldn’t risk the dressing-down I’d get if I hadn’t made that crystal clear. She’d box my ears all the way into next week.”

“Even though we’re engaged?” Léonie conscientiously removed a piece of lint from her cloak.

“Even though.” Dev sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We will obtain a maid for you in Southampton. I’ve already sent messages with another groom who is riding straight down there, and I have a few contacts who will help, so there should be no problem at all. God willing.”

“Your coach is waiting, sir.” Baxter picked up the food basket. “I will place this inside, should you be in need of sustenance before your first stop.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Baxter. We’re most grateful.” She smiled at him, since Dev seemed to be still trying to remember where he’d left his brain. “Shall we?” She walked to the door as Dev picked up her bags and a footman brought the last of them.

“We are traveling a lot lighter than I’d expected.” He heaved the two portmanteaus into the carriage boot and then followed Léonie inside, putting her bag next to the basket on the seat opposite.

“Told you.” She smirked. She couldn’t help it. “You fell asleep, didn’t you?”

He shot her a withering look. “I worked late last night. I’m tired.”

She kept her face completely expressionless. “Of course you did.”

There was a very large sigh. “And I have this to look forward to for the next ten hours? Dear God.” He rapped on the side of the carriage and they moved off.