Page 23 of The Allure Of Lord Devlin
Was his apology enough? A lady had her pride. Only now her pride was being trampled on by theton’ssnickering. “In a way, I’m grateful our first meeting is tonight with only a handful of people to watch us like hawks, but I suspect the news of us both being at this dinner, with Mrs. McTavish, will be the talk of the town tomorrow.” She kept smiling the whole time she talked with him for those watching. It wouldn’t do to have society thinking she was upset.
“Please, will you let me call on you tomorrow so I may explain the situation fully?
The time had come to make her decision. She could say no and simply walk away from the idea of Devlin as a potential husband and find another. Or she could say yes and perhaps get her heart broken. Or, and she hated to admit this to herself, she could end up with the man of her dreams. Would he live up to her fantasy of a man who loved her above all else? His behavior so far didn’t make that seem likely.
He waited for her answer, and she almost got lost watching as the emotions played across his expressive face.
“Yes,” she finally said. “I'll see you tomorrow morning. I have a luncheon with Charlotte and then a ride in the park with Lord Fencourt at one.”
There was a moment of silence.
She stood. “I will hear what you have to say tomorrow. Goodnight, Lord Devlin.”
“Thank you. However,” he looked about the drawing room and, like her, noticed several stares. “Perhaps I could introduce you to Mrs. McTavish?”
Really? At his raised eyebrow, she understood. Show everyone she was happy to meet his house guest, and that she didn’t care.But you do care.She placed her hand on his arm and let him guide her over to where the lady stood surrounded by male guests. And to her annoyance, Fencourt seemed to be most enraptured.
Her heart raced with anxiety. She would give Devlin a chance. Hear him out before deciding about their relationship—or lack thereof.
He looked at her with uncertainty in his eyes, as if he was worried that she might suddenly pull away from him and walk out of the room. But she refused to let the gossiping members of society get the best of her. Instead, she gave him a warm smile and turned her attention to Mrs. McTavish. Devlin made the introductions.
“It's lovely to meet you. I do hope your journey to London wasn’t too tiring,” said Dharma, bowing her head in greeting. Louder, she said, “I've heard so much about you from Lord Devlin.”
Mrs. McTavish smiled broadly back at her, clearly delighted by this introduction into high society. “The pleasure is all mine,” she replied, with a curtsy. “I’ve had a few days to recover from my journey. Plus, they have made me to feel so welcome. I hope we can become firm friends?”
“I hope so too,” Dharma replied, without adding, as long as you have no designs on Lord Devlin.
She stepped back, ready to avoid further scrutiny by returning to the safety of Flora and Rosemary’s conversation, though now it would be laden with knowing glances as they tried to figure out what she thought of Devlin’s house guest. However, before she could leave the lady’s side, the butler announced dinner was served. Thankfully, Fencourt turned to her and offered his arm. She gladly took it and made her way into dinner.
Devlin may have no romantic feelings for Mrs. McTavish, but Dharma caught the smile she gave Devlin as he offered to escort her into dinner. It wasn’t the smile of a woman who wanted to remain purely friends. But then, Dharma couldn’t blame her. He was a handsome man, and a Marquis was a catch for a woman like Mrs. McTavish. It made Dharma wish she hadn’t spent the past months playing games with him. She’d kept Devlin at arm’s length. She didn’t trust his motives for wishing to marry her. Did he simply want a convenient wife? His friend’s sister. A wealthy lady of quality? Or did he want her and her alone? How did you trust a man with limited options? If she knew the answer to that, she’d probably have married him already.
All he had to do was show her how much she meant to him, and for the past three months, he’d not even bothered to write. That spoke louder than words.
He’d not missed her.
So how deep could his feelings be?
She would have to see what he said tomorrow.
* * *
Devlin sipped his port while the men sat around the dining table after dinner. Their conversation turned to business as they discussed contracts and shares. He let the talk roll over him, thinking about what had transpired during his trip to Scotland. The information he’d uncovered had given him an idea of how he could clear his father’s name, but he couldn’t discuss it in front of everyone. He needed a private audience with Sinclair. Clearing his father’s name was what he’d been waiting for his entire life—solid proof that those in power had framed his father for treason.
The ladies had retired to the drawing room and Devlin furrowed his brow as he thought of Fiona. She was taking her first steps into London society, and he hoped she was doing well. He wondered how much she would reveal if anyone asked why she was in London. The fewer people who knew, the better it would be for everyone involved.
Devlin’s heart rate quickened as he thought of the secrets Fiona carried. She was wrapped in a veil of mystery, and whenever he looked into her eyes, he saw both fear and determination. Why did she want to help him so much? He shifted nervously in his chair. The first night at the coaching inn on their journey south, when she’d slipped into his room, he’d made it very clear he was not interested in her romantically.
Had she taken that answer seriously? He hoped so, or things could get very awkward. Fiona thought he needed money. He was, but not that desperate.
Devlin had stressed he was only interested in what her late husband knew of the selling of war cabinet secrets.
He dreaded to think about what Fiona might say to Dharma. Having her stay with him was dangerous to his tentative budding relationship with Dharma, but bringing Fiona to London was the only option, given his trip to Scotland had now put her in danger. Plus, Fiona knew more than she was revealing. He was sure of it.
“Lost in thought, Lord Devlin,” Sin asked.
“Woman troubles more like,” said one of Sin’s guests, Lord Shrewsbury. “Who exactly are you courting? Lady Dharma or this beautiful young widow, Mrs. McTavish? Or perhaps you are being too bold and one is your mistress?”
Devlin’s hands balled into fists. This is why he could never marry Dharma until he’d cleared his father of treason. Men thought they could talk down to him. Her association with him would forever tarnish her. He, along with all of society, knew she could do much better than a poor traitor’s son.
