Nicola Cornick - Notorious

“Perhaps I could become Fitz’s mistress instead,” Chessie was saying. “Beat her to the job—”

Dev grabbed her. “Don’t even say that in jest, Chessie,” he said through his teeth.

For a second he saw fear reflected in Chessie’s eyes. Her eyes swam with tears. “It was only an idea—”

“A very bad one,” Dev said. He let her go; tried to lighten the mood. “Apart from anything else,” he said, “I would have to put a bullet through Fitz and then Emma wouldn’t want to marry me anymore.”

Chessie gave a little watery giggle. “That would be no loss other than in the financial sense.”

“I used to like Fitz,” Dev said, “before he started behaving like an ass.”

“That is because you and he had so much in common,” Chessie said with the sort of unflattering truth that only a sister could get away with. “You both like women and gambling and sport and drink. Or at least you used to,” she added. “When you were permitted to do so. Before Emma.”

“One thing I don’t like is sightseeing in a mausoleum,” Dev said. Susanna had wandered across the aisle now and was looking up at the mosaics that rioted across the cathedral’s dome. As he watched, a beam of watery sunlight cut through the gloom to pin her in a ray of light. She looked bright and ethereal, though anyone less like an angel would be difficult to imagine. Fitz, however, looked as though he had been struck by a vision.

“You should find someone else,” Dev said abruptly.

“It was difficult enough finding Fitz,” Chessie said. “Had you not noticed, Devlin, that I do not have suitors queuing up at the door?”

“You have a good dowry,” Dev said. Alex, their cousin, had put ten thousand pounds aside for Chessie’s future.

“A modest dowry,” Chessie corrected. “No one is going to take me for that when there are heiresses to catch. Not when I have no eligible connections.”

“You have me and Alex and Joanna,” Dev said.

“That,” Chessie said, “proves my point. No eligible connections and plenty of scandalous ones.”

Dev drew her hand through his arm. “Come along. I will distract Lady Carew whilst you ask Fitz a question about Restoration architecture or something.”

“Could you not do that permanently?” Chessie said hopefully. “Take Lady Carew away from Fitz, I mean. You could pretend to be in love with her. Or you could just seduce her. You used to be quite good at that sort of thing, so I heard.”

“That is not the sort of thing one wants one’s sister to hear,” Dev said. “Or to suggest, for that matter.”

“Don’t be stuffy,” Chessie said. “Do it for me.”

Seduce Susanna …

The temptation grabbed Dev like the grip of a vise. To pursue Susanna ruthlessly, to tumble her into his bed, to sate his desire in that cool, untouchable body … He had always wanted what he could not have. Already the lust drove him at the mere thought.

He took a deep breath and the carved faces of the cherubs on the tombs swam back into focus. This was, Dev thought, a most inappropriate place to harbor such carnal thoughts.

“It wouldn’t work,” he said. “Lady Carew is too clever—she would realize what I was about in a moment. And Emma would probably notice, too.”

“Where is Emma today?” Chessie said. “Usually she sticks to you like glue. It is very peaceful without her,” she added.

“Emma is at home with the earache,” Dev said. “Which is why, just this once, I can help you by distracting Lady Carew.”

“You will be the one with the earache when Emma hears of it,” Chessie said frankly. “And Freddie will make sure she does hear. He is a frightful gossip and malicious with it.” She looked at him. “Freddie will do all he can to spoil matters for you, you know. And he will do it for fun, no better reason.”

“I’ll talk Emma round,” Dev said.

“Your life’s work,” his sister said coolly. “That is your future, Devlin—charming Emma into good humor for the next forty years, all for the sake of her money.” She sailed across to where Fitz, Susanna and Freddie were gathered around the tomb of Sir Joshua Reynolds and slipped her hand through Fitz’s arm.

“I fear all this culture is giving me the headache, my lord,” she said. “It may well do for intellectuals like Lady Carew—” she shot Susanna a limpid smile “—but you know that I am not bookish. What do you say that we go to Gunters for refreshment instead?”

Dev grinned. There was something to be said for the direct approach and Chessie was, after all, only following his advice in being the opposite of Susanna. It had worked, too. Fitz was looking relieved at the prospect of escape and just for a second Susanna looked absolutely furious before she smoothed her irritation away and smiled in agreement with the plan. Chessie, having captured Fitz’s attention at last was hanging on like a limpet and when it looked as though Fitz were about to offer his other arm to Susanna, Dev stepped forward and placed himself between them.

“I see you have the guidebook, Lady Carew,” he said. “Can you tell me if Lord Nelson is buried here?”

Susanna was obliged to pause and Fitz and Chessie moved past them, walking together toward the door. They were already deep in conversation, Chessie smiling up at Fitz with sparkling eyes, all her vivacity apparently restored now that she had his attention.

In contrast, Susanna’s green eyes were bright with anger rather than pleasure as they contemplated Dev’s innocent expression.

“Lord Nelson is not only buried here,” she said politely, “but he is spinning in his grave at the thought that a former Naval captain might not know it.” She looked up at him, her body taut with annoyance, her tone fizzing with frustration. “You already knew the answer to that question, did you not, Sir James?”

“It was the best I could think of on the spur of the moment,” Dev admitted, without a trace of apology. “I wanted to speak to you—”

“Again?” Susanna snapped. “I hardly flatter myself that you have an inclination for my company.”

“Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I wanted to delay you,” Dev conceded.

His blunt honesty was rewarded with another glare.

“I am aware of that,” Susanna said. “I understand your strategy perfectly.”

She ignored the arm that he offered her and started to follow Fitz and Chessie toward the door. One of the guides was already running to call them a hackney. The fine weather had broken abruptly and the sky outside was now a dull, pale gray and rain dripped from the guttering to pool on the pavement outside the cathedral.

“I am afraid that you will have to share a carriage with me, Lady Carew,” Dev said, very politely, as Fitz helped Chessie up into the first vehicle. “Unless you would prefer to ride with Mr. Walters, of course?”

“Hobson’s choice,” Susanna said. The quick tap of the guidebook on the palm of her gloved hand betrayed her annoyance.

“Think of me as the lesser of two evils,” Dev said, smiling at her. “Unless,” he added, “you would prefer to walk to Berkeley Square in the rain? I regret I do not have an umbrella to offer you for protection.”

Susanna shot him an exasperated look.

“Try not to keep the horses standing,” Dev added as she hesitated.

Susanna gave an irritable sigh. “Oh, very well!” She accepted the hand Dev proffered to help her climb in, touching him with as much reluctance as though he had some contagious disease. Once inside the dark, poky interior, she released him abruptly and moved to the corner, as far away from him as possible. Dev sat opposite, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankle. His boots brushed the hem of her gown; Susanna moved her skirts aside with great deliberation as though he might contaminate her.