Page 5 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
TWO
Devona could not think of another moment in her life when she had felt more miserable. All her carefully laid plans to gain Lord Tipton’s assistance had faded into oblivion when he had ordered them out of his town house. She had tried to explain. Blast him, she had even begged, for all the good it had done. Sizing up the situation as a complete failure, Gar had hooked an arm around her waist and dragged her out of the house. Absolutely mortifying! She could trust Pearl and Gar to remain silent, and as for Lord Tipton… she doubted the odd man had any friends to tell about her humiliating debacle of an evening.
A clock somewhere in the house chimed the three o’clock hour. Devona snuggled deeper into the bedclothes, her back automatically seeking the warmth of her sister. Wynne, the elder by two years, had been asleep when Pearl and Devona had slipped silently into the room to undress her. The sisters had attended the same ball that evening. She was certain Wynne was curious as to why she had arrived home before Devona when she had been the one to leave early, pleading a headache.
Devona sighed. She should try to be more like her sister. Patient and practical, Wynne was too much of a lady to show up at a gentleman’s residence demanding to be seen. No one would ever scream at her that she was responsible for the death of a decent young man.
“Your feet are cold,” Wynne murmured, her voice thick from sleep.
“Sorry.”
“And you are twitching. Stop it.” She rolled over and placed her hand on Devona’s shoulder. “Where did you go after you left the Fowlers’?”
“Who said I went anywhere?” She tried to sound innocent, and was grateful the room was dark.
“Because I left the ball shortly after you did and you were not here when I arrived.”
Devona felt her sister move off the bed, she assumed to light a candle. “I guess you arrived when I was watching Gar and some of the other men play cards downstairs.” The lie was a little weak. Maybe she could bribe Gar to back her up.
A small flame burst into life, filling the room with cavorting shadows. Wynne walked around the bed and placed the candle on a table close to Devona’s face. “Papa might believe that tale, but I know you better.” She picked up a discarded shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Were you meeting a man?”
Devona mentally added “not a silly goose” to her growing list of her sister’s virtues. Giving up the pretense of sleep, Devona sat up in the bed. Wynne climbed back into bed and slipped her bare legs under the blankets.
“I vow it is still cold enough to freeze water. What is the time, do you think?”
“Three or after, I suppose. We should go to sleep.” Was it too much to hope that her sister would take the hint? Obviously so, since her next words confirmed her determination to continue their discussion.
“We would be, if you were not intent on tangling the bedding and I was not so worried about you.” A small line appeared on Wynne’s brow as she critically studied her younger sister.
Devona supposed if she had to choose a favorite between her two sisters, she liked Wynne the best. They were the closest in age. Irene was eleven years older, married to a viscount, and the eldest of the Bedegrayne siblings. Brock, the heir, was next, then Nyle, Wynne, and finally herself. There had been another brother, Bran, but he had drowned two years before she had been born.
Wynne nibbled her lip and still managed to look lovely despite the late hour. She and Devona did not share the same temperament, or looks, for that matter. Although their height and build were closely matched, the similarities ended there. Wynne favored their mother. Her pale blond hair and cream and rose complexion gave her a fragile bearing. It was also misleading. One could see her strength by just looking into the cool green pools of her eyes. With one glance she could make a man feel like he was king of her affections or slice off his head. Devona always admired that particular trait. A few years back, she had practiced those looks hundreds of times in front of the mirror without success. Whatever Wynne did, it was so much a part of her. She was now using those green eyes of hers to inspect and assess.
“This goes back to Mr. Claeg, does it not?”
Devona wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling the chill in the room. “A few years ago, he was simply Doran,” she accused, lacking heat. “We all played together as children… fished and played near the same ponds.”
“I know what he is, Devona. And what he is not.”
“Wynne, he is going to die and it is all my fault!” Tears filled her eyes, as they always did when she thought about it.
“Who told you that?”
“Doran’s mama and sister, two weeks ago. I came across them on Fleet Street while running errands.” Wynne took Devona’s hand and squeezed it to offer comfort. “It was simply dreadful, the hateful things they said to me. The worst is that I agree with them.”
“So what did they have to do with your absence this evening?”
Devona clutched her sister’s hand to the point of pain. “First, swear. You mustn’t tell a soul.”
Wynne placed her cheek next to Devona’s and sighed. “I swear.”
Devona closed her eyes and began to recount her embarrassing encounter with Lord Tipton. Her sister quietly listened, rocking them gently, offering Devona comfort the only way she could. There was never any doubt that Wynne could be trusted with Devona’s secrets. After all, loyalty was at the top of that growing list of virtues.
***
Four days passed before Devona felt she could risk the blatant act of disobedience she was about to commit. Even understanding Wynne would have disapproved. With Pearl and Gar beside Devona, they traveled by hackney coach to their destination. Although reckless, she never considered herself a fool. She would pay dearly if her father’s coach was recognized on Newgate Street.
Devona had visited Doran twice since his incarceration at Newgate. Horrified by his condition, she had told her family of the first visit at the urging of Pearl. Knowing they would never appreciate Devona’s true reasons for seeing him, she had argued instead that it was her Christian duty to offer him support.
