Duke of Darkness (7 page)

“So, I will return tomorrow morning and we’ll be off to the modiste. Devlin says you are to have whatever you want. Can you just imagine, Alex? Think of the gowns!”

Alexandra’s eyes flared with compunction. Caught in the web of her own thoughts, it appeared her entire week had been segmented into an overwhelming list of appointments at the dressmaker’s, milliner’s and boot fitters. Devlin must have sensed her hesitation because he interjected without pause and politely escorted his friends to the door.

“A bit of a whirlwind, isn’t she?” Devlin returned and pulled the bell pull to summon Reeston. “I hope she hasn’t monopolized all your time this week. I thought you would enjoy a rematch.” She watched as Devlin picked up the white queen from his marble chess board and tossed it playfully in his left hand.

“Oh, I doubt Julia left even one minute of my daily schedule unconsidered. I only hope I have the stamina to endure the rigours of her plans.”

Alexandra took a few steps closer, her hair once again loosened by the silver combs sliding out of place. She pushed back the thick coil at the base of her neck in hope to forestall the inevitable. She couldn’t know that Devlin stood there watching her, wondering what it might feel like to slide his fingers into the silky lengths of her hair, to pull out the pins and combs and bury his face in its glorious waves. Instead, she slanted him a sceptical glance and waited as he tossed the queen, his eyes intent on hers. Slowly his expression changed. The fire cracked in the box and the air around them became charged with unsaid emotion. Her breathing slowed and she warmed from the inside out.

Someone had to breech the silence and dispatch the unsettling feeling that the two of them were forging some type of relationship, yet she was reluctant to do so. If only when she stared into his eyes she could read the dark emotion she saw there, but his gaze remained indecipherable, lost in a wary sweep of lashes. With the next breath she gasped, broken from the spell as he tossed the white queen in her direction. Her laughter punctuated the moment as she caught the queen with ease.

“Well then, I suggest you get plenty of rest, Lexi.”

The intensity of his gaze never wavered and he stared at her, perhaps looking for some kind of acknowledgement that she didn’t hear the raw need in his voice. But she did hear it. Some kind of unnamed emotion laced his words as they stood motionless with only firelight to cast flickering shadows between them.

When he spoke again, his voice fell low and husky. “Julia is a force to be reckoned with when she is on a mission, and you are her favourite project at the moment.”

“I am not altogether sure I will be able to rest knowing my fate for the morning.” She attempted to keep the mood light-hearted, but an unfamiliar current whispered through the room. She reached forward and extended her arm, offering him the chess piece.

At first she didn’t think he would take it. He stood there and stared at the ivory piece lying in the palm of her hand for several heavy heartbeats, making little inclination he would move at all. But then he came forward with a powerful stride, and his left hand snatched the chess piece while his right grasped her hand underneath. He brought her palm to his lips in one smooth movement, yet the kiss he placed there was slow and deliberate, almost tender. As he withdrew, the line of his beard brushed the pads of her fingertips and her fingers curled in reflex as if to capture the caress and hold it safe.

She didn’t see his eyes as he excused himself with nothing more than a curt goodnight. She didn’t have to. Something had changed in the time they’d remained in the study. Alexandra could not name it, but she knew without a doubt it existed.

Chapter Ten

“Reeston.” The butler reversed mid-step at the sound of his name and pivoted as Devlin entered the main hall. “I expect Derwent at any moment. I will be in my study. Show him up directly.” He strode towards the mahogany staircase and only paused as Reeston replied.

“Of course, Your Grace. Shall I have a room prepared? Are we to acquire another house guest?”

It served well that his back was turned to his butler’s droll enquiries and Devlin stopped an appreciative grin with sufficient speed before he spun to counter the jest. His mood seemed much improved of late. For that matter, so did the butler’s. It would appear his ward was not only lovely, but infectiously kind. Her ever-affable nature affected everyone who came in contact with her, whether they liked it or not.

He offered the servant a belated nod. “No, but it is a matter of great importance. We will take coffee. Send it up immediately. I hope this meeting is not a waste of my time.” The latter was said more to himself than anyone else, but then he raised his voice as he remembered another directive that need be given.

“And do not allow Fenhurst to interrupt us. This is serious business. Somehow whenever Phineas enters a room, things go awry.”

“Very good, Your Grace. If Lord Fenhurst arrives, shall I suggest he spend time with Lady Alexandra in the gardens?”

“No.” It may have been a dose of male competitiveness that invaded his tetchy answer. Devlin did not ponder it further. Instead, he made his way up the stairs and into his study. He settled behind his desk set to accomplish the accumulated paperwork, but Derwent arrived less than ten minutes later. The solicitor appeared more at ease than the last time he’d visited, and he took a seat after accepting a cup of hot coffee.

“I received your reply to my enquiry and expect you have answers to share. As I expressed in my letter, if I am to serve as Lady Alexandra’s guardian I need to know as much about her background as possible. Does she have any family? Brothers or sisters? If so, why doesn’t she ever speak of them? What circumstances brought her to The Willows? That sort of thing.”

A palpable impatience laced his words. He’d hardly dispensed with pleasantries before requesting the results Derwent uncovered. Meanwhile the solicitor did not miss the cue and replaced his cup in the saucer before he reached for the packet of papers he’d previously set beside the leg of his chair.

“I am afraid there is not much to share, Your Grace. Apparently, your aunt was not one to ask many questions. Her staff has been kind enough to speak to me on your behalf, but they knew very little about your ward. Grimley noted your aunt had no desire to pry into Lady Alexandra’s background and that she sensed the young lady possessed a good heart and a gentle soul.” Derwent cleared his throat after the last bit.

Devlin would be hard put to argue with his aunt’s assessment, although it would have been prudent for Min to insist upon knowing more before she welcomed a stranger into her home. He cursed himself for the umpteenth time for not being more diligent in his visits. Had he ventured to The Willows at any time in the past two years the situation today might be entirely different. The notion gave him pause. Then he blew out a short breath and continued to interrogate the solicitor.

“What of the reference list she offered pursuant to the position of companion? Were you able to discover anything about her past? Why am I paying you if you’ve shown up here to tell me absolutely nothing?” He made no effort to disguise his frustration, more than a little curious as to Alexandra’s past and how it might affect her future. He noticed whenever the topic arose, Lexi was rather circumspect about her years spent prior to The Willows, and she proved far too clever to get caught in any of his little conversational traps. It left him with few alternatives. Aunt Min specifically asked him not to beleaguer her with questions, yet hiring another person to uncover information seemed to fall into a sketchy area that neither bothered nor laboured his conscience.

The sum of the facts didn’t make sense. What type of circumstance would prompt a young lady to leave home and apply for a position of companion to an elderly woman living in the countryside, virtually cutting herself off from the rest of society? Disappointment narrowed his eyes as he slued his attention to the solicitor. He’d hoped to learn more about his ward. Instead, Lexi remained a perplexing little mystery.

“If you discover anything of importance, pursue it vigorously. It is inconceivable that Lady Alexandra originated out of thin air one morning on my late aunt’s doorstep. Look harder, Derwent, and uncover the answers I seek. Then act on them. Coming here to report nothing is a waste of time for both of us.” He stood to signal their time was at an end and the solicitor gathered his things and left.

Devlin returned to the chair behind his desk and sat down with heavy thoughts. He steepled his fingers and stared into the vivid flames ablaze in the firebox. Answers. He needed answers. Perhaps Lexi confided in members of his household. It was a legitimate consideration. She did spend a bit of time with Cook on occasion and although Reeston would never admit to it, the butler had taken a liking to her. They chatted more often than not after breakfast before everyone began their busy day. Would it be so wrong to ask the man for a few answers? Reeston wouldn’t be easy to read, but at this point it was worth a try.

With his decision made, Devlin stood up and made his way to the main hall intent on finding his butler. Unfortunately, when he arrived the area was empty. He glanced around the room, one dark brow arched at his quick observations, nary a detail unnoticed. A looming hallstand complete with mirror aligned against the far wall. A tapestry chair, overstuffed and upholstered in a faded print shot with sage green and goldenrod, complimented the hallstand’s position. A fringed pillow with a white floral design now graced the seat.

There was no mistaking a female resided at Kenley Manor. Alexandra had hardly been present during the past few days due to shopping excursions and gown fittings, yet little traces a woman lived in the manor were now evident. Devlin donned a knowing smile at the vase of fresh pink roses gracing the entryway lowboy and summoned Reeston with a bellowing shout.

“You need me, Your Grace.”

Cocky fellow. He stated it rather than asked. “Yes, I do. I’ve noticed a few things …” His voice trailed off as his stare rested on the bouquet, two such bouquets actually, placed at opposite ends of the foyer.

“Yes, the flowers. One of the maids heard Lady Alexandra comment on their beauty as she sat in the garden yesterday afternoon. I believe the maid thought it pleasant to bring them indoors.” When Devlin didn’t comment, Reeston continued. “It is a little thing.”

“I suppose. But they are pink. Perhaps the yellow or white can come in tomorrow.” He brushed past his butler, slowing as he heard Reeston’s soft spoken enquiry.

“And did you sleep well, Your Grace?”

It was so like Reeston to enquire about his health, his sleep habits, the old man a makeshift father to him over the years. In truth, Reeston proved better. His father was nothing more than a source of disappointment.

“Oddly, I have experienced only one episode since the news of my aunt’s death. It is a welcome respite with all the activity that has besieged my home.” He grimaced and tried to don a look of annoyance, but Devlin was no fool and knew Reeston could detect his reluctant pleasure.

“She does add a bit of brightness to the manor, wouldn’t you say?” The butler cleared his voice and adjusted a flower in the vase to his right in an attempt to feign disinterest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He would be damned if he would admit how much the house had come alive with the addition of his ward and her slightly crazed puppy. “Remember yellow or white roses in the future. I won’t have people entering my home and thinking me a Mary.”

He might have stormed off with that edict, as it was definitely a suitable exit line, but the knocker sounded. Reeston received the caller and several footmen were summoned to accept the multitude of packages flooding the foyer. And there were a ridiculous number. Gowns, shoes, boots, hats, the foyer filled faster than Reeston or any other servant could manage to pile them in order.

“I would venture to say Lady Julia has been successful in aiding Lady Alexandra’s shopping expeditions.” Reeston grabbed a hat box as it teetered precariously atop a high pile of packages ready to tumble into disarray.

“Indeed.” Devlin smiled. He liked the idea of Alexandra enjoying a little extravagance. If her luggage had been any indication of her belongings, she scarcely had anything at all. Thank heavens, she’d taken to wearing simple day gowns at the insistence of Lady Julia, and vanquished those horrid black mourning frocks. It hadn’t been necessary for her to wear them in the first place, but he appreciated her devotion to Aunt Min.

“Lady Alexandra didn’t strike me as a spendthrift, Your Grace.”

He chuckled aloud. Reeston was one of a kind. Any master of the house would dismiss their servant for his bald insolence, but Devlin considered his staff as family, and Reeston was correct. Alexandra only ordered eight gowns at the modiste and that again under the duress of Julia’s insistence. It was a very good thing he’d visited the shop not an hour after the ladies departed. He had tripled Alexandra’s request, choosing the finest fabrics and styles, and taken his time with the ordering of an assortment of under things. Then he had continued on to his tailor and purchased himself an ensemble worthy of social functions. He enjoyed a well-cut coat as much as a well-aged brandy. If he was going to be forced to endure a limited thrust into society, he would need his armour. Nothing could distract from one’s inner emotions like the fine presentation of clothing. People rarely looked into one’s eyes if they were busy admiring the workmanship and style of one’s waistcoat.

“No, she is borderline frugal, Reeston. I amended her orders and added to her purchases. She is clearly uncomfortable spending my money, but I’m not. Let’s hope she is having a little more fun on her outing this morning.”

“Yes, I agree. Would you like me to have the footmen deliver these packages to her bedchambers?”

“Perhaps you should open the yellow drawing room and have the packages placed in there until she can sort them through.” Devlin flicked his eyes towards the staircase, lost in reflection before he continued. “Actually, have the entire west wing reopened for Lady Alexandra’s use. It is time we aired out those rooms. Do you think they need to be refurbished?”