Page 58 of The Allure Of Lord Devlin
“Thank you, Your Highness. My father would have been proud. My mother will be gloriously happy,” Devlin replied, his voice tinged with gratitude and sadness. Lord Sinclair and Lord Clayton, standing steadfastly by his side, seemed to embody the true meaning of loyalty.
With a last nod of acknowledgment, Devlin made his way from the room, head held high. Yet, despite the victory, an emptiness lingered within him. Dharma’s absence, her unwavering support and understanding, left a void that even the clearing of his father’s name couldn’t fill.
He’d had news that the surgeon had successfully removed the bullet and reset her collar-bone and all was well.
He yearned to share the news with her, to bask in their success together. As he headed home to share the news with his mother, Devlin couldn’t shake the feeling that true jubilation would only come when Dharma was by his side. He couldn’t wait to tell her and thank her for helping him clear his father’s name.
* * *
In the drawing room of their somewhat shabby looking London townhouse, Warwick Sneddon, the Marquis of Devlin, stood before his mother, Lady Devlin. It was the first time in a long while he was proud to think of his full name and title. The glow of the morning sun cast a warm hue upon the room, accentuating the intricate, tired tapestries and near kindling furnishings. He had a lot to put right now.
Devlin cleared his throat, raw emotion making it difficult to talk. “Mother, I have news,” he began, his voice steady yet tinged with emotion.
Lady Devlin, sat gracefully in a worn and tatty ornate armchair, regarded her son with a keen yet gentle gaze. “You’ve met with the Prince Regent?”
Taking a deep breath, Devlin unfolded the parchment he held and handed it to his mother. “It's about Father's case—the accusations of treason.”
Her eyes widened as she read the contents, her hand fluttering to her chest in astonishment. Tears filled her eyes. “Ten years... and you’ve succeeded. You’ve cleared his name?”
Devlin nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. “Yes, Mother. I’ve unearthed crucial evidence that exonerates Father. The accusations were based on falsehoods—a conspiracy meant to hide the true culprit—Lord Longton.” He wasn’t about to tell her it was Longton’s obsession with her that made father a target. Lady Devlin’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her voice trembling with emotion. “Oh, Warwick, this is a miracle! To think, after all this time...”
Her words trailed off, overcome with emotion. Devlin moved to her side, taking her hand gently. “It's been a long and arduous journey, but I have cleared Father of the charge of treason and our family name is restored. There will be an announcement in the paper tomorrow. Our family name will no longer bear the weight of such unfounded accusations. Plus, Prinny and Lord Liverpool have sought to compensate us for the error. We will receive a fine hunting lodge with almost one thousand acres from Longton’s unentailed estate and money enough to restore our family.”
Devlin watched as ten years of fear, anxiety, anger and betrayal washed across Lady Devlin until her eyes became alight with joy once more. “The years of isolation, the whispers in society, the shadow over our family... it will all fade away. And Rosemary…”
Devlin nodded. “Yes, Mother,” he said, his heart swelling with a sense of justice finally served.
“My other sons can come home…” Tears slid down her cheeks as she looked at her son, a profound sense of pride filling her. “You've done the impossible. I wondered if you were punishing yourself all these years, hunting for something that could never be proved. Thank you for believing in him, in our family… Your determination and dedication have brought light to our family’s darkest hour.”
As the realization sunk in, the weight lifted from their shoulders, allowing a newfound hope to blossom within the walls of their home. With his relentless pursuit of truth, the Devlin family stood on the brink of a monumental restoration—one that would shape their future and redefine their place in Regency society. Rosemary would have many options, his mother could hold her head up high and finally his brothers could come home.
Mother jumped to her feet. “Well, I shall start on the house renovation tomorrow. We must hold a ball and we cannot do that until the house is back to its former glory.” With that, his mother moved and took his face in her hands. “Your father would be so proud of you. As for me… I hope now you can take a breath and enjoy life for a change. Go after what you want. I have a feeling there is a certain woman who has stood loyally beside this family all that time.”
Dharma.
“Do you love her?” His mother teased.
He just smiled. If he was going to declare his love for her, then she should be the first person to hear such a declaration. His mother merely smiled back and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Rosemary said she’d been hurt in your escapades. Go to her. She’ll be eager for news from today.”
He hugged his mother and turned to leave. He couldn’t wait to give Dharma, and Rosemary, who was with her, the news of what had occurred today.
ChapterEighteen
The opulent bedchamber was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the flickering flames casting shadows that danced across the walls and heavy damask curtains. A grand four-poster bed dominated the room, and on it lay Dharma, her body twitching in her unconscious pain. She’d been this way for the past six days.
She was pale and delicate, her brow glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration, ensnared in the grip of a relentless fever, her once vibrant eyes now glassy and unfocused. Worry clawed at Devlin’s innards as he sat by her bedside, his broad shoulders slumped in exhaustion.
A skilled physician had been summoned to tend her wounds, but despite their best efforts, infection had set in and the fever had raged on. Delirious with sickness, she murmured incoherent words and tossed restlessly beneath the sheets.
He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. He leaned in close, whispering words of love and encouragement into her ear, his voice trembling with emotion.
“Dharma, my strong and brave love,” he began, his voice quivering. “You must fight. You cannot leave me, for I cannot bear to live without you. You are the very reason for living, the light of my soul. I need you, as I need air to breathe.”
Tears welled in his eyes, but he blinked them away, determined to remain strong for the woman he loved. He continued to stroke her hand, tracing the outline of her delicate fingers with his thumb.
His visit to her beside was his daily routine for the past week. His father had been cleared, the Devlin good name restored, but for Devlin, the weight of the ordeal lingered. He might lose Dharma.
