Page 48 of The Devil Himself
“The rumor also states that Julian has kidnapped Hannah and spirited her away, hiding her from your other brother, Daffyd.”
“Spirited her away? Kidnapped her? Well goodness gracious.” Rys batted his eyelashes and pressed a hand to his heart. “Such melodrama. Hannah has gone to stay with a friend along with her daughters. Gareth, of course, is at school. Why everyone thinks Julian has kidnapped her, I have no idea.”
“Don’t you? I would think it is because your brothers have spread those rumors.” The irony in Beechwood’s tone made him smile.
“Surely not.” He laughed heartily, drawing curious stares. “Trust me when I tell you, Beechwood, that you might still have the ball of the season even without the corpse or ghost of my dead brother.”
“You know I do love a good sensation. I also appreciate the opportunity to be prepared.” Beechwood scanned his guests, eyes moving, mouth curved in a smile still.
“You’re most welcome. Sit back and enjoy the entertainment.” He gave Beechwood a wink. “Now, I would be happy to accept that brandy.”
Rys was surprised to be the first one to arrive, but that gave him time to get into position to watch and to allow the murmurs of shock at seeing him wandering through the ballroom to subside before Julian and Luc arrived. He was also able to admire Luc without his lover seeing him, and Rys thought Luc looked like a shining, golden warrior angel dressed in a severe black coat and starched white cravat.
For a moment, Rys felt a terrible sense of being in the wrong place. This was no longer his milieu. In fact, it hadn’t been, but for a very brief time, a place he’d spent any of his energy. Yet by the same token, it was like slipping into an old pair of shoes. He lifted his chin and ignored people who tried to speak to him as they murmured about how he was the Devil Himself. How dare he show his face at a society function? That felt far more correct to him.
He watched while Julian and Luc circulated for nearly half an hour, Julian dancing a short dance with a young lady who seemed to be one of the season’s diamonds, and Luc refusing to ask anyone despite a spate of hopeful young beauties staring. Standing apart at some point, Luc noticed him, their gazes meeting across the room, and Rys longed to stride across the ballroom and take Luc into his arms in order to dance with him, but he knew that would be incredibly ill-advised.
He smiled, though, because he could imagine hiring a string quartet to play for them while they danced at the Devil’s Playground. In fact, he told himself to do just that.
Then the main show began, because Arthur, who was quite inebriated, arrived, his voice already far too loud for as early as it was in the evening. His appearance was just unkempt enough to be an insult to Beechwood and his mother, as well.
“I say, Grey,” he heard Beechwood say to Arthur as he drifted close enough to eavesdrop. “You’re looking a little worse for wear. Perhaps you should go to the retiring room and clean yourself up.”
Arthur gave Beechwood a sneer. “Perhaps you ought to mind your own business, my good man.”
Beechwood drew himself up with all of the five hundred years of his family’s titled heritage and stared down his wonderfully long aquiline nose at Arthur. “Considering that you’re in my home, at my ball, which I hold in honor of my sainted mother, it is my business,my good man. If you’re not careful, I will kick you back into your carriage and send you home.”
“I would love to see you try,” Arthur snapped.
“Why are you here?” Beechwood asked, gripping Arthur’s arm when he would have brushed past.
“I had thought to play cards, but now I’m looking for Warrington, of course. He’s taken my sister-in-law.”
“Taken her, has he? It seems odd to think that he would just kidnap her when they’re already engaged.” Beechwood was working at being as offensive as possible. Good man.
Arthur’s voice rose with rage. “They are not engaged! He is up to something nefarious, and I intend to find out what it is. I must make sure that my sister, my dear sister, is safe.”
With impeccable timing, Julian swept into the conversation at that moment, smiling gently at Beechwood, and then turninga hard-as-steel stare on Arthur. “You dare to insult me and my future bride?” Jules snapped.
“I dare anything if it is going to keep her safe,” Arthur blustered. His eyes darted from side to side, and he seemed much more sober suddenly.
“I find it interesting that now you wish to keep her safe. It seems at cross purposes to what you were trying to achieve before.” Julian crossed his arms over his chest, his stance widening. Luc stood at his left shoulder, providing silent support.
Rys worked hard not to laugh. This entire performance was utterly marvelous, and he couldn’t have planned it better himself.
“What are you accusing me of?” Arthur asked.
“Now, gentlemen, why don’t we retire to the library? I’ll get everyone a brandy and—” Beechwood was cut off when Julian sneered at Arthur.
“We all know that you’re just trying to get to Hannah so that you can take poor little Gareth’s fortune. Owen is dead now, and all you have to do is get rid of his heir.”
Arthur’s furious noise sounded like a cross between a rampaging bull in rut and an outraged peacock. He lunged at Julian, who quickly sidestepped, Luc going the other way so that Arthur again looked like an out-of-control bovine, although perhaps a young one who was not very coordinated yet. He whirled around and started back toward Julian, only to get a face full of glove as Warrington slapped him hard across one cheek.
“You may not insult my future bride or me any further. I am challenging you, Arthur Grey, to a duel. My seconds are Luc here and your brother Rys. Name yours, if you please.”
Arthur’s eyes went wide, just as they always had when he got himself too deep into one of his schemes. Rys could tell immediately that he had never expected for Warrington tochallenge him, and he understood the surprise. Julian had a reputation for being happy-go-lucky and rather calm.
“I— my seconds?” Arthur asked.
