The Devil You Know (11 page)

in her hands. It was there alone that she finally broke down.

Chapter Eight

“Are you all right, my lady?” Polly asked with a look of ap-

prehension.

Diana knew she was a mess both inside and out. Weak and

mildly nauseated from her exhausting emotional display, her

eyes burned, and her hair hung limp and lank about her tear-

stained face. She needed no mirror to explain the maid’s alarm.

“Yes, Polly. I must have fainted,” she lied. “But I’m fine now.”

She rose from the floor on shaky legs, brushing her skirts with

trembling hands.

“Fainted?” The maid’s brows rose to her hairline. “I’ve never

known you to faint before, my lady. You don’t think you could

possibly be…”

Diana choked on a laugh, a half-crazed sound. “My dear Pol-

ly, of
that
I am certain.”

Polly regarded her mistress with a concerned frown. “You

don’t look yourself at all, my lady. Mayhap you should take to

your bed.” Giving Diana no chance to resist, Polly looped a strong

arm about her mistress’s waist and guided her across the room to the

adjacent bedchamber. “You sought his lordship earlier,” she said.

“He returned to his apartments about an hour ago. I must say he was

in much better humor than when he left this morning. Shall I call him

for you?”

“No,” Diana almost gasped. “I have no need of Lord Reggie. I’m

sure a bath and a good night’s rest will see me completely restored.

Pray convey to Lady Chambers that I shan’t join them for supper this

evening.”

“Would you have a tray sent to your room, then?” Polly asked.

“No, thank you.” The thought of food almost made Diana retch.

“If you will only call for hot water and help me to disrobe.”

The hot bath that followed soothed her shattered nerves, or per-

haps it was really the medicinal dose of brandy Polly produced which

Diana threw back in one long and unladylike, draining draught. It

burned its way from her throat to her belly, but then quickly filled

her with a welcoming languor, thanks to her empty stomach. Diana’s

mind whirled with the various repercussions of her discovery.

Ten years together, and she had never had an inkling, yet having

had time to overcome her initial shock, she saw that Reggie’s behavior

made perfect sense. She understood now that he had felt as trapped

by their marriage as she, although he had certainly had a choice in the

matter. While Diana had wed him out of duty to her parents, she had

known that Reggie’s motives had been entirely mercenary. Through

their marriage, Diana had provided him with a title, income, and sub-

stantial properties. She had satisfied his need to live as a gentleman

in the hopes they would come to rub along together, but now she un-

derstood the impossibility of that and of the more private needs she

could never satisfy.

Ten years of her life wasted. Her youth sacrificed waiting and hop-

ing for something that could never be, that never had any chance to

begin with—purely because she was a woman. He had
chosen
to live

the lie, and for that, he had punished her. He had fed her self-doubts

and insecurities daily by making her question her own worth as a

wife, as a woman. She felt betrayed and dishonored, a realization that

filled her with an impotent rage. If she were a man, she would deal

with it in a man’s way—with pistols at dawn, but she was a woman, a

woman now in desperate need of vindication...of validation.

The recognition of this one simple fact, of her legitimate need to

feel appreciated, to be desired, was somehow liberating and empow-

ering. Perhaps it was the drink that falsely bolstered her confidence,

for with a calm resolution she never would have thought herself ca-

pable of, Diana determined to re-claim what had been taken from her.

The hour was well adv

***

anced when she approached the dressing

table. She slipped off her night rail, and selecting her favorite scent of

damask rose, strategically daubed the stopper at her neck—remem-

bering with a shiver how his lips had grazed it—and then between the

full breasts he had openly admired. She cupped them now, the weight

of them heavy in her hands, and regarded her reflection, wondering

what he would see, how he would react when she disrobed for him.

Would she be all that he had imagined, or in some way disappoint-

ing? It took a conscious effort to tamp down the virulent doubts that

threatened her resolve.

Forgoing the gown she’d discarded, Diana donned only her wrap-

per, a diaphanous silk. She took down her hair, riffling her fingers

through the waves until they cascaded over her shoulders, and by the

light of a single candle, ventured to the north wing apartments and

Lord DeVere.

Ludovic

***

raked an exasperated hand over his stubbled jaw and

took a long drink. Although he wouldn’t relish the nights he would

now spend palming himself, he had at last bid Caroline her overdue

farewell. Lewd and adventurous, she’d been his longest bed partner,

but he’d long become bored with her shallow vanity and irritated by

her constant demands on his time and attention. Still, he didn’t doubt

Diana’s arrival had been the final impetus for her dismissal. The frus-

tration he now felt was a bittersweet penalty for his impetuous ac-

tions.He didn’t know what it was about Diana that got under his skin.

She was handsome and voluptuous, the type that attracted him most,

but he’d known women more beautiful and charming than she. Per-

haps it was the heat he detected beneath that thick layer of icy reserve?

His instincts were never wrong about that. No doubt it was also the

challenge she presented, the difficulty of the conquest that appealed

to him. He’d not been challenged by a woman in a very long time.

He hadn’t seen the Baroness since that morning and had no doubt

that she was avoiding him. He wondered if he’d overplayed his hand

in making his desire for her so clear. He’d ensured she had no doubt of

his interest, several times even. He’d never known a woman to refuse

his bed once his interest was made known
.
She was more than ripe for

an amorous interlude. The air between them virtually crackled with

sexual tension at every encounter. Yet still, she had demurred.
Damn

her.
The thought of inciting her to embrace her darkest desires, to

unleash her passion was the incarnation of his most erotic dreams.

Bloody hell! It was enough to drive him mad. He couldn’t remember

the last time any woman had invoked such a carnal hunger. Damn, his

cock throbbed at the thought of those magnificent white mounds. He

wanted to pillow his face in them and suckle the dusky peaks while

burying himself cock to balls inside her.

It was then that he saw movement. “Damn it, Caroline! I thought

you had departed this afternoon for The Oaks. I’ve already made my

sentiments perfectly clear. Why must you make this so bloody dif-

ficult?” Ludovic was incensed. He rose, setting his glass down with a

decisive clink, but three paces revealed his error.

If he’d wanted Diana before, his desire was magnified tenfold by

the vision of her in his bedchamber. Garbed in diaphanous silk that

clung to every luscious curve, her russet waves fell in a wanton cas-

cade over her shoulders. Eyes of moss green regarded him with lumi-

nous trepidation. She had come to him at last. His cock twitched in

eager anticipation for the answer to his most selfish prayers.

It was with a feeling

***

of déjà vu that Diana entered the viscount’s

bedchamber. The rooms were much as she had envisaged in her

dream, her footsteps muffled by the deep plush carpeting, the mas-

sive tester bed with its curtains drawn back, the flickering candle in

her hand, except that when she drew near, she found the bed empty.

Her heart dropped like a stone.

Her first thought was that he had not yet retired, but the house

was deadly quiet, and Ned and Annalee had turned in hours ago.

Then it dawned on her—
Caroline,
and Diana cursed herself for ten

kinds of fool. She knew they were lovers. Why would she ever have

imagined he would have gone to his bed alone, that he would be wait-

ing for her? Especially after she had repulsed him, not once, but thrice.

Diana tried to convince herself that it was all for the best, that she

was not the kind of woman to carry on an illicit intrigue and would

only live to regret it if she had carried out her plan. But the truth was

heart-sundering disappointment. She had wanted—no,
needed
this.

Desperately. She turned to depart, but froze at the angry assault to

her ears.

“Damn it, Caroline! I thought you had departed this afternoon for

The Oaks. I’ve already made my sentiments perfectly clear. Why must

you make this so bloody difficult?”

She could find no voice to reply when he rose from the chair by

the hearth and moved toward her with a purposeful stride. But he saw

her and stopped dead in his tracks.

“You?”

“Yes. Me,” she croaked from a throat made of sandpaper.

They stared at one another in interminable silence before his

sensuous mouth formed a slow, wolfish smile. “Well, isn’t this a sur-

prise.”

Her pulse raced. Her tongue darted nervously over her lips. “It

was urgent that I see you.”

“Urgent? Then why did you not sup with us? Surely we could

have spoken then or shortly thereafter.”

Her mind scrambled for an answer. “I wasn’t well earlier.”

His mouth curved a wicked turn. “You look exceedingly well to

me.” He took another step forward with a gaze that burned through

the thin layer of silk to heat her skin beneath. He looked like he would

devour her whole.

Diana retreated two steps back, but it was not far enough to ease

her sudden sense of vulnerability, nor the startling physical aware-

ness of him.

“There is something you must know before the race tomorrow,”

she said.

He glanced at the mantel clock and regarded her with a sardonic

lift of his brow. “By my account, tomorrow is already come.”

“My apologies again for disturbing you at this late hour, but I had

to speak in private. No one else must know of this.”

“Disturbing me would be a vast understatement,” he replied. “I

find myself unusually agitated at your change of heart.”

“You misunderstand,” she said, the same heart now sounding a

frantic beat for retreat. “This is about
the race.
Reggie has fixed it. He has bribed your jockey.”

DeVere took possession of her hand, caressing her knuckles with

his thumb. “I thank you for the warning, my dear.” He drew her fin-

gers to his mouth, kissing them with deliberate languor, his hot breath

against her cool skin sending tremors racing up her arm. “But you

worry needlessly. For I already know.”

Her gaze fixed on his mouth. She tried in vain to ignore the warmth

of it, the soft sensuous lips. “B-but how? How could you know? There

was no one else about.”

“I treat my people very well, and they are devoutly loyal to me

for it.”

Diana worried her lower lip. “What will you do now?”

“Whatever your heart desires.”

She shook her head sharply, unsettled by his continued attempts

to unbalance her with his persistent innuendoes. “I’m speaking of the

race.”

“The matter is taken care of.”

“You have confronted Reggie?”

His face hardened. “No. I have quite another method of dealing

with this.”

“You won’t tell me?”

“I will not. It is a most unpleasant topic that I would rather not

dwell upon when there are far more fascinating subjects at hand.” He

stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, and she broke away

from him with a strangled sound. “That’s not why I’m here. I came to

protect my personal interests. To warn you about the race.”

“In nothing but your wrapper? Tsk, tsk, my pet. Untruths are so

unbecoming. Yet it is precisely your most personal interests, your inti-

mate needs, that are foremost in my mind right now.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he advanced and silenced

her with a finger across her lips. He traced the curve of her mouth

with a whisper touch that made her ache for his kiss. His thumb lin-

gered, caressing her lower lip and making it tingle with exquisite sen-

sation. She closed her eyes and bit her tongue to suppress the urge to

lick him.

“If I had had any doubts about you before...” he murmured,

“they were laid to rest the instant I set eyes on that feckless husband

of yours. There are no words to encompass his unworthiness of you,

Diana. You were made to be worshipped. Say the word, and I swear

to atone for the grievous neglect you’ve suffered.”

He had spoken her own deepest feelings, her darkest desires. She

averted her face in an attempt to ignore the heightened awareness of

him. The big, strong, near-naked body. The powerful chest exposed