Page 31 of The Allure Of Lord Devlin
Dharma turned away and reached into her corset. She hesitated before turning round. Would this put Devlin’s life in danger? Would it not be better to let her investigate, as perhaps they would not be watching her?
She held out the parchment to Devlin, who slowly reached out his hand and took it. Rosemary came and stood next to her and held her hand as Devlin slowly read the note.
“Can you recognize the language?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“It’s not Latin. Is it Russian?”
“I don’t recognize the language. It might be in code,” he replied. “Where did you find it?”
Rosemary explained about her father’s night visit and the jewelry box. Devlin hugged Rosemary as her voice choked with emotion. “I’m so sorry I didn’t find it sooner.”
“You’re not to blame you were so young. And I have it now.”
Dharma stepped forward. “What will you do with the note? Did you recognize the name?”
Damn it. She was too clever. He’d hoped they hadn’t noticed. “Please forget you ever saw this note.”
She grabbed his arm, and the jolt of awareness almost sent him to his knees. “It’s Longton, Devlin. He’s Fencourt’s father. I could?—”
“No,” and he pulled her round to face him. “You will not put yourself in danger or get involved in my family’s business.” He loosened his grip on her arms. Hell, the thought of something happening to Dharma because of him or his family’s treason… That’s why he’d walked away and would not court her. First, marrying into his family would subject her to scorn. Second, she would put herself in danger. And here she was, wanting to walk right into it.
“I’ll inform Clayton about the situation and put a guard on both of you. Yes, Rosemary, I think it’s a good idea that you stay with Dharma for a while.” He didn’t trust Fiona, either. “In fact,” he continued, handing the note back to Dharma, wishing he could tuck it back into her corset himself. “It would be safer if this note did not remain in my home. I’ll talk to your brother and Sinclair about it and see what they think.”
He watched with envy as she placed it back next to her bosom. “I’ll ensure it stays well hidden.”
“And you will not talk to Fencourt?”
Narrowing her eyes was not a good sign. “I’ll talk to him, but not about this matter. Is that what you mean? Or do you not wish me to talk to him at all?”
Blast.He bloody well didn’t want her to talk to him at all, and she knew it. “You know very well what I mean.” She continued to stare at him through narrowed eyes while he ensured the green poison in his veins remained hidden.
She knew how to stir his temper. He didn’t want her talking to Fencourt. He didn’t want her talking to any men, especially men looking for a beauty to marry. He needed more time. Time to earn the right to offer for a lady of her social standing. Yet he had no right to ask her to wait for him because, hell, it had taken ten years already, but he could feel how close he was now.
Except for Fiona McTavish. He’d been a fool to think her a mere woman who wanted to help him. Never in his wildest imaginings did he think she’d have the nerve to demand marriage.
How ironic that he had a way to clear his father, but the cost would be the freedom he so craved. Freedom to marry the woman he desired more than his next breath.
“I’ll escort you both to Clayton House. I want to talk to your brother. Clayton needs to be told what is afoot so he can take appropriate steps to ensure your safety. I shall return in an hour to walk you home. Be ready.” With that, he left them to their packing.
As he stepped into the corridor, he thought he glimpsed a dress fleeing around the corner of the corridor. His fists clenched at his side. He set off to hunt for his ally or foe. He hadn’t decided which Fiona was just yet. She may well want to help him. Or she could be working with their enemy, but then why bring her husband’s journal to his notice? That meant she was now in danger. He had to protect her and he prayed the cost would not be too high.
He found her in the drawing room with his mother. At a later time, he’d ask his mother when she’d arrived in the room, but for now, he needed to talk to her alone.
“Mother dear, may I borrow our guest? I thought I’d show her the rest of the house. It’s so easy to get lost.”
“Now, now, Warwick. Don’t misbehave in the shadows. I am responsible for the lady’s reputation while she is under this roof.”
There’d be no chance of him touching a hair on her head. “Of course, mother.” Turning to Fiona, he added, “Do you need a shawl? The upper floors can be cold, as we don’t keep fires lit.”
She gave him a seductive smile. “I’m sure I’ll be warm enough with your arm to cling to.”
His mother merely chuckled. What had Fiona been saying to his mother? He bit back a comment and held out his arm. He listened to her prattle on about how lovely his home was until they were in the portrait gallery. Seeing his father’s face gave him courage. Then he turned her into his arms.
“I thank you for your offer of help to clear my father’s name. You reaching out to me was like an angel descending from heaven.”
She placed her hand on his chest. “I had to do what was right.”
