Page 21 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
“Ah, the true reason for your melancholy. I need not point out to you that visiting him openly casts a certain speculation on your friendship.” With the flick of her fan she discouraged an approaching suitor. Wynne softened the rebuttal with her siren smile.
“He has been injured, bedridden with fever. I think—I suspect Brock had a hand in this.” It was a miserable confession, and the horrified expression on Wynne’s delicate features conveyed acute denial.
“Brock? I cannot believe—”
“Well, I do. I tried to find him. I would have challenged him to deny it, but he was not to be found. Still, the evidence is damning. He would not give up the idea for revenge, even after Papa had forbidden it. I think he and his cronies saw an advantage to appease their thirst and took it.”
“Does Lord Tipton agree?”
Devona lowered her gaze to the closed fan in her lap. “I think so. He was so weak with fever. The notion that Brock had tried to kill him—” The helplessness almost overwhelmed her. “I told him to stay away from me. I would not welcome his attentions.”
A flicker of amusement twinkled in her sister’s eyes. “You think to protect Le Cadavre Raffiné? I’ll wager his response was quite spectacular, and very male.”
Devona pressed her fingers to her head; the headache brewing was not to be ignored. “Stop calling him that ridiculous name. He is not a corpse, and from our brief encounters I am not even certain I would consider him refined.” Before Wynne could open her mouth Devona snapped, “Regardless, he is nothing to me!”
“If Brock is responsible, keeping away from Lord Tipton will not prevent our brother from exacting family justice, nor will it deter your feelings for the man.”
As Devona prepared to deny her sister’s perceptiveness a movement caught her eye. “Oh, rot. He’s coming our way.”
Wynne saw the source of Devona’s dismay. Lord Nevin. “Have you toured the conservatory? Her Grace possesses a collection of exotics that must not be missed.” She stood, a blond warrior queen readying herself for battle. “I will deal with the satyr.”
