Anabelle Bryant - Duke Of Darkness

“Dev?” Phin reached across the mantel and rapped his arm. “Are you with us this evening?”

“Yes. Excuse me. Of course, we’ll get social.” Devlin took a moment to exhale and clear his thoughts. “Let’s just do it somewhere else.”

“I can ask Mother to plan a ball for Father’s birthday, Phin. That’s only a week away and if we make a concerted effort we can arrange a small affair with the most selective guest list.” Julia leaned forward, more animated with each word. “I know all the most eligible bachelors, Alexandra, and I will be sure to see my mother invites each one of them.”

Separating from where the ladies sat on the settee, Devlin turned to Phin with dark suspicion. “What is your sister up to? I don’t trust that look in her eye. I’ve seen it over the years and it never leads to anything good.”

“I don’t know.” Phin glanced to his sister. “You don’t suppose she’s trying to make you jealous, do you?” Both men shared a withered look.

“Good God, I hope not. Talk of eligible bachelors and the choicest men is exactly the conversation I want to hear. Maybe your sister can find herself a match while we seek a husband for Lexi.”

“Lexi?” Phin raised his brow in question as a mocking smile broke loose.

“Never mind the name. Figure out a solution. I have it in mind we get both girls wedded so we can enjoy some peace and quiet. Then I can continue to work on my golf game.”

“And you think it’s that easy? I tell you, it is highly unlikely unless you are considering marriage yourself. My sister has a one-track mind. Make that a one-man mind. Do something to discourage her, for heaven’s sake. Golf and your other eccentric tendencies fail to mar your appeal. Take to drinking too much or chewing tobacco. Claim your seat in Parliament and oppose the Corn Laws. Stop looking so damnable dashing.”

“Why, Phin, I had no idea.” Grinning, Devlin strode to the corner and lifted one of his clubs from the case. His friend followed, enjoying the foolishness of their banter.

“How much do you spend on clothing anyway? It isn’t a masculine trait to be so preoccupied with one’s appearance.”

Devlin pivoted, his club at rest by his side. “Oh, you remind me. Could Julia take Alexandra to a modiste? She arrived with the smallest valise in existence. I can’t imagine much is in there besides the horrid black gowns she keeps producing. There is no way she is going to any function, never mind your father’s birthday party, dressed like the Dowager Duchess of Darkness.”

“Very clever.”

“Not really. I just switched the name out. One of my old labels in the gossip rags. Mad Duke of Darkness. You remember?”

To another, there wouldn’t have been notice, but Phin reached out and touched his shoulder, and Devlin knew his friend could read his emotion as easily as he knew his own.

“By the by, you failed to mention how becoming your new ward is.”

Devlin answered his comment with a malevolent stare and Phin stepped back with palms raised.

“A simple observation.”

His friend almost chuckled but better judgement changed his mind.

“Don’t get any ideas.” Devlin’s growled response caused Phin’s eyebrows to climb; yet it was hard to deny his friend’s classic profile and rugged appeal irritated. “And stop looking at me like that. She’s too young for you anyway.” The well-known fact that a gaggle of women twittered over Phin’s golden brown hair and unique amber eyes at every social affair deepened Devlin’s annoyance.

“Earlier today you said we weren’t much older than one and twenty.”

Devlin knew his friend was jibing him but all at once he was in no mood. “That’s not what I meant. You should pay better attention.” And then he rapped Phin in the leg with his golf club, because it felt good to do so.

“Ouch. What was that for?” Phineas leaned forward and rubbed his shin. “What are you going to do about a chaperone? Propriety dictates your ward have a respectable chaperone.”

Devlin grimaced in visible disgust. “Propriety is overrated. I refuse to invite some doddering old maid in here to oversee every move I make.”

“But you will have to do something once Alexandra enters society.”

Was it necessary for Phin to belabour the subject? “I don’t know. I’ll just make someone up if anyone asks.”

Phineas began to chuckle until he realized his friend was serious. “You can’t do that.”

It was said in such an incredulous tone, Devlin found humour instead. “Of course I can. I make my own rules. Remember?”

“Devlin, Phineas, come over here please, I think we have it all worked out.” The men shared a glance before they moved across the room to join the ladies. Devlin knew Julia’s level of determination once an idea took hold of her brain. It was damn near impossible to dissuade her. At times her vociferous manner proved overwhelming.

“Alexandra and I have it all planned.”

It was easy to get lost in Julia’s chatter and Devlin took to comparing the two ladies seated across from him. They couldn’t be more dissimilar. While both ladies were attractive in their own right, their colouring was different, their poise. Even in that horrid high-necked black dress, Alexandra’s beauty shone apparent. Julia tried too hard; her hair curled and cut in the most popular style, her gowns as current as possible. What would Alexandra look like in a fashionable gown, ribbons in her hair, diamonds around her neck? She had a graceful neck, lithe and smooth, the perfect pathway for kisses.

With an abrupt shake of the head, he stopped himself. What was this foolish game he’d indulged in the past few days? She was his ward, not a subject for his fantasies. He had a job to do, an obligation to his dear aunt. Viewed in its true light, it seemed incredibly selfish he might entertain improper thoughts … but damn it, his mind had no trouble at all conjuring erotic dreams with little effort. He passed a hand over his face and forced his attention to Julia. If he stared at her long enough maybe he would forget who sat beside her, but the outcome of his plan seemed doubtful.

“I am so excited. This will be the event of the season and we only have a week to get you ready.”

Julia could rival Tillie in a conversation competition. Did the girl need to breathe? Granted the thought of a social gathering, of new gowns and accessories, thrilled Alexandra. At The Willows, Aunt Min rarely entertained, and when she did, the median age of her social circle tripled Alexandra’s years. Few exchanges with anyone remotely familiar with current fashions were offered. She smiled ruefully at the memory.

Attending a few social functions and becoming acquainted with people in London would not be altogether unappealing. It could prove enthralling if she allowed herself the emotion. Of course there was the whole notion of finding her a husband and seeing her wed with utmost expediency, but that consideration was unthinkable. She would cross that bridge when needed. Julia appeared determined to prepare a list of eligible bachelors and Alexandra would make a concerted effort to meet the gentlemen. It wasn’t as though she was averse to the idea of marriage. It was the forcing of her hand that caused the rebellion.

Her thoughts wandered to Henry. He wasn’t a distasteful man. In truth, most of her father’s listed traits for an admirable husband rang true. And her father fell hard, completely smitten, with the man. Despite Henry’s respect and favour, Alexandra felt nothing for him other than a vague friendship. She was not so shortsighted that she could not understand her father’s deep desire for a son. Yet to sacrifice one’s only child’s happiness in an attempt to gain a selfish wish; that solitary fact of having no choice in her future ignited her desire to leave Brentwood. How could she remain when her father regarded her own happiness as unimportant?