Page 1 of The Allure Of Lord Devlin
Prologue
Ivy Close, Cornwall – July 1816
She would wear the carpet through if she didn’t stop pacing. Dharma wished for the hundredth time that she’d not returned to her stepmother’s house-party while this silly house party was in progress.
Ivy Close, once a hunting lodge belonging to Dharma's father, had been left to her stepmother after his passing over eighteen months ago. She knew she’d always be welcome here because Charlotte loved her almost as much as her own mother had even though she was not much older than Dharma herself.
That’s why Dharma found it so disagreeable that Charlotte would hold a gathering such as this. The ‘find a husband’ house party made her skin crawl. Desperate men did not make good husbands, no matter how much you wanted a child. But she couldn’t convince her stepmother of that. As she made another turn on the much trampled carpet, she caught her reflection in the mirror.
Dharma Dexter, you need to interfere.But how, she kept asking herself over and over as she chewed on her bottom lip?
The men Charlotte had invited to this house party were in attendance so that widowed Charlotte could pick a new husband. Charlotte wanted a child. And she needed a husband to have one. Poor Charlotte didn’t have many offers, despite being widowed for almost eighteen months. So her stepmother had come up with this baffling plan to invite men she knew needed to marry wealth to a house party. She’d select a husband from within these applicants. That’s what they were. They were auditioning for the role of husband and father.
Why, oh why, did Lord Devlin have to be in this group of men Charlotte had invited to her ‘pick a husband’ house party’?
Dharma was best friends with Lord Devlin’s sister Rosemary, and she’d never considered him as suitable husband material—until now. Was it because suddenly Charlotte saw a marriage to Lord Devlin as a solution to save his family from financial ruin and to get a handsome husband to father a child?
After a tedious dinner where the men were too eager and her stepmother Lady Charlotte Clayton tried to be gay, Dharma wished she could send the ‘money hungry’ men who were invading her family’s old hunting lodge fleeing. Lord Devlin, most of all. He was the most desperate.
And to her utter shame, she didn’t want Charlotte to marry him. What did that make her? Deceitful. It’s not as though she wanted to marry him herself—or did she?
No. She would marry for love, not money or position. She’d seen what a marriage without love was like as she watched Charlotte live a lonely life with her father. That was not for her.
So, now she faced a dilemma. The secret Charlotte had revealed to her earlier in the evening swirled in her brain like a tornado. The right man should know. The Duke of Sinclair, Sin to those he called friend, should know. Surely if His Grace needs a wife, and he learns Charlotte is not barren… Even to a young woman, somewhat innocent of the world, Dharma could tell Charlotte fascinated the handsome duke who was not here for Charlotte’s money. He had plenty of his own. Throughout dinner, he stared at Charlotte like a lion watching a gazelle. Not sure if he should pounce.
Should she tell him?By Crickey, Charlotte would kill her.And could she trust Sinclair not to spread gossip or mock Charlotte for the fact her husband had never gone to her bed?
Her head ached as she processed her options. The one thing she refused to confront was why the idea of the Warwick Sneddon, the Marquis of Devlin learning Charlotte’s secret upset her more. Devlin’s one hesitation in asking the rich widow to marry him and save his family from destitution was Devlin wanted children. He did have brothers who could provide an heir but it was obvious Devlin would like the chance to have his own child or he would have offered for Charlotte immediately. Like everyone else, Devlin thought Charlotte barren—but Charlotte had just never slept with her husband. Dharma’s father had never gone to his new wife’s bed, still so in love with Dharma’s mother’s memory.
That’s the sort of love Dharma craved from her marriage. A love so deep it eclipsed time.
Why then did Devlin’s face keep creeping into her mind every time she thought of her future husband? Devlin was here to marry for money. He was here because when his father died several years ago with the word traitor hanging over his head, the prospect of finding a wealthy wife to save his family evaporated. Now he was so desperate for money due to his father’s scandal, he was prepared to forgo an heir and leave that to his younger brother.
That was not romantic at all.
She’d known Devlin all her life. Why did she care a toss who he married? All he wanted was a rich wife and she would never be just a purse for any man. No her large dowry would go to a man with love for her in his heart. Having watched Charlotte’s marriage to her father and compared it to her mother’s marriage, Dharma knew it had to be love or nothing. Her parents had so much love it made the household sing with happiness. Her upbringing was like a spring day until her mother’s death. But then Charlotte had arrived, and her life was infinitely better for having Charlotte as her stepmother, even if her father never loved his new wife. She owed Charlotte so much. Her stepmother had stayed and endured a white marriage, with no chance of having a child of her own, for Dharma. Charlotte had understood the young Dharma couldn’t lose another mother.
That’s why Dharma wished she could give Charlotte all she deserved.
Where was Rosemary when she needed her? Rosemary would know what to do—especially about her brother, Lord Devlin.
She would write to Rosemary and—and what then? She couldn’t confess in a letter or ask for advice. What if someone else read the missive?
She needed His Grace, the Duke of Sinclair, to fall in love with Charlotte. Damn it, she couldn’t hide from the truth. She wanted the Duke of Sinclair to marry Charlotte so her stepmother wouldn’t marry Devlin as a last resort.
Drat the man. Why a man so set on marrying for money interested her, she’d never understand. She should despise him, yet…Lord Devlin was very handsome.
Her mind whirled with ideas. Sleep would not come, so she decided to fetch a book from the library. Pulling the sash on her robe tight, she slipped into the corridor and stood listening. It must be close to two in the morning and it appeared all were abed.
Having grown up in this hunting lodge, she didn’t need a candle to light her way. It was a full moon and light filtered in the many windows lining the corridor. It didn’t take her long to descend to the library, and she walked down the first wall looking for something interesting to read.
Dharma had just pulled the first book off the shelf when the noise of the curtain moving in the breeze from the open terrace doors, and the smell of a cheroot had her swinging around. A man sat in a high-back, winged chair by the open doors. The tip of his cheroot glowed as he dragged on the other end.
She slowly straightened, and a shiver of unease slid through her. Who was it? If it was Lord Bann, she could be in trouble. She looked around for something to use for protection.
“Not very clever to be walking around this house in the dead of night—alone.”
Relief washed through her.Devlin.“I’m not the guest here.” She walked slowly towards where he sat like a king on his throne.
