Page 12 of The Allure Of Lord Devlin
He forced his attention back to the stage. Or at least he tried.
There was no intermission tonight. This was the late showing. He turned to Lord Clayton. “Would you like to return to my townhouse for a drink and sustenance?” How desperate was that?
Lady Philippa took pity on him, realizing he’d had no time to talk with Dharma. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
As they made to leave the box, Devlin extended the invitation to the young man by Rosemary’s side, to join them at Devlin House and ask if he’d like to accompany them in Devlin’s carriage. His reward was Rosemary’s grateful smile.
“I’d be honored, my lord. However, I have my carriage. Perhaps Lady Rosemary and her mother would allow me to escort them home.”
“That’s so kind of you, young man. We’d love that.” Lady Devlin decided for him. Hawthorne gave Rosemary his arm and the happy party took their leave of his box.
The jostling crowd appeared merry, and although the exodus was chaotic, Devlin ensured he had Lady Dharma on his arm. All was proceeding as planned until they arrived on the bottom floor and were about to exit onto the street to find their carriages. Lord Clayton had just stepped outside when a voice sounded near Devlin’s ear.
“Hawthorne. A word.”
It was Lord Whetton.
“Good evening, father. I hope you enjoyed the opera. I’m escorting Lady Dharma and her mother home.”
Whetton didn’t acknowledge Devlin. “I need you at home. Now.”
Hawthorne’s face reddened and his jaw grew taut. “I shall be home shortly,” and he made to move around his father.
Whetton grabbed his arm. “Do not disobey me, boy.”
Hawthorne shook his arm free of his father’s hold. “Father, you are creating a scene. I will see you at home later.” The young man moved determinedly to the door with an anxious Rosemary on his arm and a beaming Lady Devlin.
Whetton stepped in front of Devlin. “I will see my son disowned before I let him marry your sister.”
Dharma must have felt the tension in Devlin’s body because she stepped between the two men. “Lord Whetton.” She placed her hand on his arm and sweetly said, “Please don’t ruin a magical night for me. Besides, I hate being the subject of gossip. Don’t you?”
Whetton looked around. “This is not over, Devlin. I won’t allow a match. I warn you now.”
“I think that is up to your son and my sister to decide.” Dharma squeezed his arm as if to say, don’t antagonize the man.
Whetton raised his fist and shook it in Devlin’s face and Devlin was about to retaliate when Clayton arrived. “Whetton, stop all this barking, for goodness’ sake. I won’t have this behavior around my sister.” Dharma smiled sweetly at Whetton once more, which calmed him.
“I shall talk to my son.” He turned tail and stalked off with all of society watching.
Devlin looked at Dharma, who was trying to ignore the staring. “I apologize for putting you in the middle of that. If you would prefer to go home, I’ll ask Clayton to take you.”
“You think a belligerent man like Whetton would injure me? Rosemary and I took worse verbal poison from the young ladies last season. It was nothing and will certainly not ruin my night. What angers me most is it has probably ruined Rosemary’s.”
With that she began walking towards Clayton’s carriage with her head held high and he’d never admired her more.
She was quite the woman, and a woman who deserved the best in life.
He certainly wasn’t the best, hell he was hardly second best. What could he offer her?
He handed her into Clayton’s carriage. Her brother said, “I’m looking forward to that drink and to shake Hawthorne’s hand. I like that he stood up to his father. The man’s a bore and a bully.”
Devlin sat in his empty carriage for the ride home, thinking about Hawthorne. Was it worth the trouble to continue to support this match with Whetton so opposed? Rosemary could end up being hurt? He rubbed his eyes. The weight of his father’s stigma wore him down. He’d pushed it aside for the past few years, but with Rosemary’s come out and his brothers looking at him to save the family by marrying money, the guilt ate him up inside until his stomach crawled, because he’d failed in clearing his father’s name.
He lay his head back on the squab and closed his eyes. He’d told himself many, many times that there was no point continuing looking for the truth, because he had hit a completely dead end. No leads, no clues and absolutely no idea how to progress his search. So what was the point in dreaming of clearing his father’s name and restoring the Devlin family honor and winning the heart of a fair maid?Perhaps to save your life if the shot at the duel was anything to go by.Yet, why would she even consider him? What could he offer?
A life of whispers and gossip and stained reputations.
And their children? How would their children fare?
