Page 2 of The Allure Of Lord Devlin
“There are desperate men under this roof.”
“I have a powerful set of lungs.” She let herself smile, but before her lips curled upwards, Devlin’s arm snaked out and pulled her onto his lap, his hand clamping over her mouth.
“Hard to scream now.”
Dharma was too shocked to struggle. Shocked at the feel of the masculinity wrapped around her. Shocked at how her body reacted—a shivering arousal. That was enough to see her come to her senses and struggle. Devlin released her immediately with a laugh.
“Not so brave after all.”
She moved out of his reach. “I’m not scared of you. You’d never hurt me. Rosemary is my best friend. I’ve known you all my life.”
He sat silently staring at her for a moment before uttering, “Ah, honor goes out the window like this wispy smoke, when a man’s desperate.”
He was drunk. She could smell the brandy on his breath. His cravat was hanging loose. His shirt hung open to his waist, and he looked like a man wallowing in a misery not of his making. But gosh, he looked so beautiful. Her heart swelled with the need to help him.
One short sentence could make his misery less. She could tell him Charlotte’s secret, but her throat closed until she could barely breathe. She didn’t want Devlin marrying Charlotte.
Like the flash from a lightning bolt, a vision blinded her.
She wanted to marry Devlin.
No. Surely not. He was a man who wanted money.You have money.Her dowry was considerable. Her brother Tobin would welcome the match. As would Rosemary. It could save Devlin’s estates and family.
Her mouth would not move, because deep inside, she wanted more.
“You’re exquisite, you know.”
His soft words sent heat through her already on edge body. “That’s the drink talking. Or is it you are changing horses mid race? My stepmother is not to your liking, so the stepdaughter, with the very large dowry, will do instead.”
He rose unsteadily to his feet, putting her aside. “I hope I remember that excellent suggestion in the morning.” And without another look at her, he weaved across the room and out the door. Dharma listened to him stumbling up the stairs.
She slowly moved to close the doors out onto the terrace and stood looking at the moon.
What a mess. She could save him. Rosemary would welcome Dharma marrying her brother. But Dharma would not marry a man who only wanted her dowry.
But even though Charlotte could save Rosemary’s family by marrying Devlin, Dharma would do everything she could to make Sinclair fall in love with Charlotte.
As she made her way back to her bedchamber, she refused to dwell on the reason she preferred Sinclair to marry Charlotte, and she could hear that reason still stumbling up the stairs.
ChapterOne
London, 1 February 1817 (6 months later)
Why can't we structure life like a piece of music? Each note led you on a story that surprised you, and yet you understood what the outcome would be. The song would end and leave your senses engaged. It made you feel. Forced you to feel. Let you lose yourself in memories and emotions private to you.
Dharma ran her hands over the ebony and white keys, letting the soothing notes embrace her memories. She loved playing. She loved losing herself in the emotions the sounds produced. Clarity for the emotions swimming within her body. If she could, she’d play all day.
Today she was playing a romantic song by Handel because he had arrived back in town. Her fingers flew over the keys while she silently mouthed the words. A pianist she was, a singer she was not.
The words made her think of Devlin. Everything made her think of Devlin. She’d not seen him since her time spent at his home with Rosemary in December. Her body hummed in time to the music, wanting to see his face, his smile and feel his….He was courting her.And her body hummed with the possibilities. The weekly letters confirmed that. He wanted her to marry him. She had to decide if giving her heart to a man who needed money before all else was wise. And, if she could live, and have her children live, with the fact his family name was tainted with the word traitor. She’d never believed the late Lord Devlin was a traitor. She could stomach the gossip and meanness, but her children would face that too…
Oh, she’d learned something over the cold winter months. He wanted her—in his bed. Every time he’d looked at her, the heat in his eyes almost melted her resolve to wait for more. For his declaration of love.
He could not hide his desire and she was pretty sure she hadn’t hidden hers, which made him dangerous. Seduction was a tool men like the Marquis of Devlin used at their will. His many, many paramours could attest to that. But she needed more than passion and desire—she demanded love—regardless of his situation.
Any man she married had to love her.
Comfortable within herself, Dharma knew what she required in a husband. Her parent’s marriage was a glowing recommendation for finding the right man. A man who loved her and put his family before all other considerations. Someone she could rely upon. A man strong and protective, but who valued her intelligence and saw her as his equal—a partner to help shoulder the trials life threw at them. But most of all, a man who didn’t give a fig about her dowry.
