The Devil You Know (6 page)

DeVere? I’ll brook no refusal, you know. What will it be? Brandy?

Port? Madeira? I have only the finest in my cellar.”

“So I hear,” DeVere stroked the Irishman’s self-conceit. While

impatient to be about his business, he knew he had to handle the

adventurer with considerable tact. “A good brandy would not go

astray.” Lounging in a large, leather chair, he accepted the glass

and took an appreciative sip. “Fine brandy, indeed.”

O’Kelly nodded and with a grunt settled his considerable

bulk into a chair opposite. “You came searching for someone?”

“Just so. And while I ascribe to the philosophy of letting each

man go to the devil his own way, I tend to take exception when I

must play host to said gentleman’s fretful wife.”

“Ah! A shrew-wife! It all becomes clear now. No wonder the

man sought escape.”

“Is he here then? The Baron Palmerston-Wriothesley?”

“Aye, but I fear Lard Reggie has already wearied of my hos-

pitality.”

“Wearied, you say? Mayhap it’s the exhaustion of his pockets

that’s to blame?” DeVere remarked with a knowing smile.

O’Kelly returned a conspiratorial look and a great gap-

toothed laugh. “It costs a great deal to keep such a great house

and fine stables as these.”

“Indeed, it does,” DeVere agreed. “How much, O’Kelly?” he

asked, the smile lingering on his mouth but disappearing from

his eyes.

O’Kelly’s gaze took on a hard, calculating look. “
That
is a pri-

vate matter between jontlemen, yer lardship.”

“I am sensitive to your honorable discretion in the matter, but

the gentleman in question is kinsman to my closest friend. Thus,

33

I only endeavor to save embarrassment to all. Perhaps you might

permit me to buy his vowels?”

“A fine and generous offer, but perhaps your lardship might

wish to know the
amount
of the debt before making such a

pledge?”

DeVere steepled his fingers. “It is so extensive?”

“I fear the jontlemen has no luck at all with the dice. Three

thousand guineas lost at Hazard. Had to send to his banker. Some

business about a deed as surety on the debt.” O’Kelly waved his

fleshy hand in a dismissive gesture as if the money meant little.

DeVere knew better.

“Then I ask what would you require by way of
incentive
to al-

low me to buy the paper? Would ten percent suffice?”

“I raise my glass to you, my lard. It’s not often I find such

like-mindedness in the nobility. I think we can do business for

twenty.”

“While I am eager to assist my friends, sir, I don’t readily ac-

cept extortion. Twelve is my final offer.”

“Then twelve it is.” With a broad smile, O’Kelly spit on his

hand and offered it to DeVere.

Diana rose from her

***

bed at the clattering sound of carriage

wheels and iron shod hooves on the cobbles below. Drawing

aside the velvet drapes of the second story window, she peered

down to watch the trio pull Reggie’s slumped form out of the car-

riage. Shouldered between Ned and Hew, they half-carried and

half-dragged him into the house. At first she deliberated going

downstairs to meet them, but knew any conversation with Reggie

in his current state of inebriation would be pointless.

As proof of her wisdom, only moments later, muffled curses

and snatches of drunken song assailed her ears through the dress-

ing room separating his and her bedchambers. Relieved that he

had at least arrived safely, she shed her wrapper and climbed

back into bed. Yet sleep eluded her. Diana lay there wondering

morosely if this was all she had to look forward to for the next

twenty or thirty years.

As a dutiful daughter, she had wed the groom of her father’s

choosing, a genial country gentleman with a love of hunting and a

strong penchant for claret, a man exactly like her own father. But

34

Victoria Vane

unlike her mother, Diana had found little satisfaction in ordering

her extensive household like a well-run regiment and in filling

her days with a frenzy of domestic activity while her husband

attended to his hounds, horses…and whores. She could only as-

sume the latter. In the past few years, Reggie’s drinking and for-

ays to races and hunting events had increased, while his visits

to her bedchamber steadily declined, leaving her to imagine the

worst. When he was in drink, Diana had learned to bolt her door,

and eventually, he had ceased to molest her altogether.

In recent months, they had rarely crossed paths at all and

even then, had barely spoken beyond the polite civilities. Now

at only eight and twenty, Diana was restless in body, withering

in spirit, and growing daily more embittered by disillusionment.

She pondered how her life might have been different, had she

never wed at all and if she might one day find the contentment in

widowhood that she had never known in marriage. She further

speculated on how soon that day might actually come, a thought

that shocked her and filled her with guilt.

Of course, she would never wish any actual harm to Reggie.

Yet years ago, she used to lay awake in bed until the wee hours

awaiting his stumbling step up the staircase. Now she slept

soundly whether he was at home or not. And when she imagined

him not coming home at all, the thought no longer disturbed her

peace. Try as she might, she could never seem to command any

sense of grief or remorse.

She wished things could have been different, but knew the

relationship was far beyond hope of repair. She had entered the

marriage with quiet optimism that in time, affection, if not love,

would develop. But she now questioned whether she still had any

capacity for love at all or if her heart had dried up altogether, leav-

ing in its place just a hollow shell.

Unable to sleep, but not desiring to disturb her maid, Diana

donned her wrapper. Wondering if a glass of wine and a book

might sooth her restlessness, she lit a candle and softly descended

the stairs, thinking to seek both of these in DeVere’s library.

DeVere gav

***

e Ned a wolfish smile. “Repique.”

“Blast it all! Ned threw down his hand. “I can never win

against you!”

35

The Devil You Know

“Far be it for me to discourage you from trying.” DeVere

laughed.

“Well I shan’t try any longer, or I’d be as great an addle-pate

as Reggie. You are sure he’s ruined?” Ned asked.

“O’Kelly had his vowels to the tune of three thousand,” said

DeVere.

Ned gave a low whistle. “He is surely finished then. While the

estate is well-managed—largely due to Diana’s involvement—it

is not a vast property. I don’t believe they receive more than sev-

en or eight hundred a year income from it. A thousand pounds,

tops.”

“A bloody fool and his money…” DeVere shrugged.

“But you know the poor devil never stood a chance amongst

that
company.”

“Nevertheless, the weakest men doth the greatest fools make.

In truth, I’m amazed such a fine specimen of womanhood mar-

ried such a buffoon.”

“In her defense, Reginald was hardly Diana’s choice. He was

some distant relation on her father’s side, the marriage contrived

purely to keep the lands in the family. Reggie’s title even came

to him by Diana, secured by a private act of parliament. Yet he

has proven a sad husband, especially for such a fine woman as

Diana.”

“Yet she maintains fidelity?” DeVere asked with a feigned

nonchalance.

“Don’t even think it, my friend.” Ned glowered. “She is An-

nalee’s cousin, and I won’t see her reputation besmirched.”

“Come now, Ned. She is a woman grown, and I am the very

soul of discretion.”

“Is that why you presently flaunt your mistress before your

friends?”

DeVere made an exasperated sound. “I didn’t invite Caro. She

just took it upon herself to come here, though it’s probably my

fault for not delivering her congé before I left London.”

“You have no intentions in that quarter then?”

“Gad, no!” DeVere scoffed. “Marry the slut? She’s little better

than Mrs. Hayes’ whores, albeit a loftier one. But since she’s here,

I’ll avail myself of Caro...for now.”

“Try as you may, you’ll not debauch Diana, DeVere. She’s a

virtuous woman.”

36

Victoria Vane

The corner of DeVere’s lip kicked up. “Damn me if that

doesn’t sound like a challenge, Ned. Would you care to strike a

wager on it?”

“I’m not about to let you seduce her. I’ll see you hung first.”

“Who said anything about seduction? I swear to you I won’t

lay a hand on her...unless of course, she comes to me.”

“You think Diana would come to your bed?” Ned threw his

head back and laughed. “You’re mad! First of all, she would never

break her marriage vows. Secondly, she’s certainly deduced by

now what a whoremonger you are. She wouldn’t touch you
with

gloves,
my friend.”

DeVere felt his interest growing. “Then it’s a safe bet, is it not?

Make it a gentleman’s wager, twenty guineas.”

“It’s not about the money, and you know it. It’s the damned

principle of the thing. I refuse to wager on any woman’s virtue.

It’s just not done—not by a gentleman,” Ned rebuked.

“Have it your way, then,” DeVere said with a blithe shrug.

“But know this, Ned, if
by some lucky turn of fortune, I should

be offered the bounty of a certain Baroness, you may be certain I

will
not
demur.”

Suppressing a smile, DeVere considered what the papers se-

creted in his breast pocket might
truly
be worth.

Dressed

***

scantily as she was, Diana hesitated at the door when

she heard the low rumble of male voices within. Not in the habit

of listening at keyholes, she would have returned to her chamber

had not Reggie’s name been clearly distinguishable.

“Ruined?” She stifled a gasp and almost dropped the candle

that trembled in her hand.
Three thousand guineas? Good God!
She

leaned against the wall to keep from slithering to the floor.

She considered making her presence known and openly con-

fronting Edward and DeVere but knew that they would feel it

necessary to hide or obscure the truth from her under the pre-

posterous pretext of protecting her delicate, feminine sensibili-

ties. Instead, she snuffed the candle and pressed as closely as she

dared to the door. Still, she only caught frustrating snippets of the

exchange.

“
…
amazed such a fine specimen of womanhood…such a buffoon…”

37

The Devil You Know

She found it strange that she took Edward’s high regard for

her in stride, yet DeVere’s words of admiration stirred something

deep within. She couldn’t comprehend why—when he’d already

shown himself a rake of the first order and a man with no respect

for women—yet his interest almost made her forget the issue of

Reggie’s debt. She heard the clink of glass, and then the conversa-

tion was frustratingly muffled, as if they had turned their backs

or moved further away.

They were now speaking of DeVere’s odious mistress, a topic

she had not the slightest interest in. She turned to leave, but her

breathing arrested as her own name assailed her ears. It was Ned,

and he was laughing.

“Diana come to your bed
...
whoremonger
...
wouldn’t touch you with
gloves...”

Diana’s hand flew to her mouth at DeVere’s unmitigated pre-

sumption. While she was certainly guilty of encouraging a harm-

less flirtation with him, the notion of joining ranks with such as

Caroline Capheaton was beyond the pale. With her blood near the

boiling point, she spun on her heel and returned to her room. It

would be a cold day in hell before she ever allowed herself to be

used by such a libertine.

But then again, it was precisely this illicit thought that took

root in her subconscious as she returned to her chamber—what it

would be like to know such a man as a lover, to give herself up to

selfish, lascivious lust, to finally let loose the deep and relentless

yearning after a lifetime of suppressed passion?

She recalled the hungry way his blue gaze had devoured her

at their very first meeting, and the suggestion that had hung heav-

ily in the air between them. She had thought herself dismissed

as a potential lover until overhearing his profession of interest to

Edward, a confession that inspired within her equal parts loath-

ing and lust.

Feeling stifled, Diana flung open the French doors and

stepped onto the balcony into the moonlight. She stood there in

the deep silence of the night, lost in her reflections and the illicit

visions that kept returning to DeVere. When the damp chill forced

her back inside, Diana explored her room, still restless and seek-