Page 11 of Enticed By an Earl
“Undeniably,” James replied, sighing like he was still a groom on his wedding night, even though he and Amelia had been married more than five years.
“There you have it,” Dev said with a nod. “You and Amelia are happy and Julian and Mary are happy. I dare say that our sister Olivia is happy with that clod she married last year as well.”
“Harrold is a perfectly charming man,” James said, grinning.
“The three of you have used up all the marital bliss in the family. There is none left for me,” Dev insisted. “If I should attempt to choose a bride, I would be grievously disappointed.”
“Marriage is not a game of dice or cards,” James laughed. “You do not wear out your odds with each happy marriage in your family.”
“I’ve no wish to marry,” Dev said with a shrug, and before the subject could be dragged out further, he said, “I have another question, if you might know the answer.”
“I am all ears,” James said with a jovial smile.
Dev grew suddenly serious. “Lord Castleton,” he said. “What do you know of the man’s situation?”
James blinked at him, seemingly startled by the change of subject. “I am not likely to know more than you know, being in the country with Amelia and the children as I’ve been. He is the eldest son of the Duke of Bedminster, is he not?”
“He is,” Dev confirmed.
James grunted. “Bedminster is a nasty one, or so I have been told.”
Dev’s heart beat harder, mostly with sympathy and protectiveness for Castleton. “I believe he is.”
“One of the footmen at Northleach used to work for him,” James went on. “Said he has a right temper and used to beat the staff when they did not perform to his exacting standards.”
Dev rippled with tension as if the blackguard stood in front of him and had slapped his face. He was willing to wager that the bastard beat his own son as well.
“He’s a mannish man, is he not?” he asked. When James turned to look questioningly at him, he said, “He upholds a rough version of masculinity and despises anything else.”
Understanding dawned in James’s eyes. “You worry thatbecause Castleton has always been reputed to be a bit of a fop that he might be the object of his father’s violence.”
“Precisely,” Dev said.
“Are you acquainted with Castleton?” James asked.
Dev hesitated. He kept few secrets from James. The two of them had always been close. James knew of his assignations with men as well as women, and although he was not entirely approving, he had never censured Dev for those tastes either. That was not enough for him to feel comfortable potentially exposing someone else’s secrets, however.
“I encountered Castleton the other day,” he said, opting for bare facts. “I rescued him from an attack on the street.”
“Good Lord,” James said, eyes going wide. “Is the man well?”
“As well as could be expected,” Dev said. “Only I worry that his father had something to do with?—”
“Lord Deveraux. How pleasant to see you here this evening.”
Dev’s explanation was cut short as a matronly woman with a clever expression stepped up to him and James, a blushing young woman with eager eyes standing by her side.
“Lady Stockton,” Dev greeted her with a smile, turning away from James. “How lovely to see you again. And this charming young lady is?”
“My niece, Miss Alexandra Poole,” Lady Stockton made the introduction.
That was the end of his inquiries about Castleton and the beginning of the game he was fated to play with his mother that evening.
Miss Alexandra Poole was the first but by no means the only young lady to be introduced to him within the next half hour. As soon as that ice was broken, a deluge of marriage-minded mamas and their eager charges were marched forward to simper and smile and curtsy for him.
Truth be told, Dev did not mind the game as much as he might have. He had no intention of letting his mother win it, to be sure, but he did enjoy making the acquaintance of so many lovely, hopeful, and sometimes desperate, young ladies. They were presented to him in all shapes and sizes, some who were far too young for him and a few who must have been on the shelf for some time.
There were blondes and brunettes and even a red-head who batted her eyelashes at him as if she would have settled for the role of his mistress rather than his wife. He opened the dancing with the daughter of a duke and as soon as he escorted her back to the side, he offered his hand for the next dance to the surprised daughter of an industrialist. The move was designed to keep the mamas in the room guessing as to whether he sought a bride of title or fortune.
