Page 60 of The Allure Of Lord Devlin
To my shame, I should have known, I did know, that your father was a man of the utmost honor and integrity, a paragon of loyalty to our realm. I should have believed in my friend. It is with the deepest remorse that I acknowledge my grievous mistake in doubting his loyalty and that I failed to be the steadfast friend I should have been to you and your family.
I ask for your forgiveness, Lord Devlin, though I understand it may be a request too great. I will do whatever it takes to make amends, to mend the breach between us, and to stand as your friend and ally as I should have all along.
Please accept my sincerest apologies, and know that I, and all that the Whetton name conveys, am forever at your service to demonstrate the depth of my remorse. I await your judgment, understanding, if you choose not to grant me your forgiveness.
Yours, with the deepest regret,
Daniel Eastbury, Earl of Whetton
To Devlin’s surprise, it was a note written with truth and from the heart. He had to give the man credence. He, unlike most of society, had apologized for his actions. Most of society ignored that part and merely welcomed him back into the fold.
Now there would be no objection to Rosemary and Hawthorne marrying, but only if she fully understood she would have plenty of options. She didn’t have to accept Hawthorne’s suit because it was the only one she had received.
The same could be said for him. The money he got from the Longton estate mostly restored his wealth and it also brought with it a hunting lodge in Scotland. His title was now as shining and untarnished as the silver tray these notes lay upon, and his tin mine was a bonus. He would be quite the catch.
Images of beautiful, captivating Dharma flooded his mind behind his closed eyelids. Her smile, her turned-up nose when thwarted, and her steadfast loyalty to him and his sister. Her beauty was something that every man saw, but what lay underneath she’d shown only to him. He was not interested in any other woman.
If she survived her fever, he would never make her doubt his love again.
He wanted to show her just how much he loved her. He wanted to prove that he did not marry her for money, but that she owned his heart and even now that he had choices, he chose only her.
What could he do to show how deep his love was?
He sat in quiet contemplation as the fire slowly burned away, and the flames died. He needed to be with her. He left the warmth of the fire and dressed. He’d attended to everything his mother and family needed from him, including actually forcing food down his throat, but what he needed most was to be with Dharma.
They said love healed all wounds, so perhaps his love could help heal Dharma.
A knock at the door startled him. Rosemary popped her head around the door. “They’ve found Fiona McTavish. The Bow Street Runners have her downstairs. She’s in a terrible state. I almost didn’t recognize her.”
Devlin quickly descended the stairs. He’d wanted Fiona found for further clarification of Longton’s treason, but her testimony was no longer needed. So, what should he do with her?
The flickering light of the oil lamps cast a warm glow across the dimly lit morning room. He wanted to harden his heart when he looked at her, but she looked so pathetic. The air was thick with tension as Devlin paced back and forth in front of Fiona, a lady who had walked the fine line between villainy and virtue. But he could almost understand why—survival. Women didn’t have many options when it came to being financially secure. She’d married a man old enough to be her father once before. Obviously, she had wanted better choices the second time around.
Fiona sat on a wooden chair, her once-luxurious gown torn and stained, her face pale beneath the lines of blood caused by the wounds she’d received while Longton’s man had tortured her. Her eyes, a mix of fear and defiance, followed Devlin’s every move.
The Bow Street Runners, led by the stern-faced Inspector Reynolds, stood at attention, waiting for Lord Devlin’s decision. The room seemed to hold its breath as he finally stopped his pacing and turned to face Fiona.
“Fiona,” he began, his voice a mix of frustration and confusion. “From the very start, you’ve been playing a risky game.”
Fiona’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, and she swallowed hard before speaking. “A woman has to think of the future. Besides, I could have told Longton a lot more and you know it. I let them torture me and never said a word.”
Her words held the truth. He sighed, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. “That may be so, but the very lady who saved your life is now lying mortally wounded. I cannot ignore the gravity of your deception.”
Inspector Reynolds stepped forward, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Lord Devlin, the lady must face the consequences of her actions. Justice demands it.”
He circled around her, his eyes searching for something in hers. She had suffered already. She had been tortured and her good name was not worth the mud on his boots. She’d never snag herself a title now. “What do you think I should do to you?”
Fiona looked up, fear and tears welling in her eyes. “I deserve to be punished, but I will throw myself on your mercy, as I know you to be a merciful man.”
He stopped pacing and stood in front of her. He watched her throat moving as she swallowed. She should be afraid. “If Dharma dies, deportation to the colonies for ten years.”
She gasped and reached for him, but he brushed her hands away and hardened his resolve. “If you’d told me everything at the beginning, Dharma wouldn’t be have been injured. I can’t forgive that.”
“And if Lady Dharma lives?” Inspector Reynolds asked.
“She can return to Scotland, never to set foot in England again.” He turned away in disgust.
“You best pray the lady lives,” Inspector Reynold said. “Come on, I’m taking you to the gaol until we learn your fate.”
