A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(100)

"There is none!" she cried. "Only a woman has eyes to see the beauty beneath the skin."

He grimaced and handed her the stem. "You believe all men to be so shallow?"

She returned a sad smile and then drew again from the pipe.

Although surrounded by a haze of smoke, in that moment a cloud lifted from his formerly muddled mind. The answer was so perfect. So clear. Ludovic had to tamp down a chuckle at his own brilliance. "But what if there was such a man, Salime? One capable of perceiving the greater beauty within?"

Salime snorted again. "What if camels could fly, Effendi?"

"Salime, I would ask a boon of you."

She responded without hesitation, "You know I would do anything for you, Effendi."

"Thank you, my dear. But perhaps you would hear me out first?"

"As you wish."

"I have a friend, a very dear friend, with a grave dilemma. It is an affliction which requires a unique kind of healing."

"He is in need of a physician?"

"No. The quacks can do nothing for him. Although he physically suffers, it is not truly a physical ailment."

"You mean he is touched in the head, Effendi?"

"No." Ludovic paused, struggling to explain what he himself did not fully comprehend. "He may believe himself so, for he experienced a great deal of torment that lasted a number of years, but, I don't think it's as bad as all that. "

"I am no healer. I do not understand what you would ask of me."

"I only wish for you to be his companion, Salime. He is in great want of one who understands a man's deepest needs. I am of the belief that you alone could relieve his distress."

"Me? You have such confidence, Effendi?"

"I have every confidence in you, my dear. Simon means a great deal to me. Should you accept this proposition, I would be exceedingly pleased. Moreover, I would provide you most generous compensation."

"It is not for the money that I accept," Salime said. "It is for you, Effendi. You have asked this of me, so how can I refuse?"

He returned a soft smile. "I pray, Salime, that one day you meet a man who will prove himself worthy of such devotion."





Chapter Thirty-two


Diana was still awake when the sound of iron-shod hooves echoed a clatter over the cobbles below. She ran to the window just as the lamp-bearing footman moved to lower the step of the carriage, but in a typical display of impatience, Ludovic leaped from the vehicle before he had a chance. Her husband then gestured some commands with brisk motions before advancing with rapid strides toward the house. Her gaze tracked every movement until he was lost from view.

Diana pulled on her dressing gown, deciding to confront him straightaway, rather than waiting another night nurturing suspicions and resentment. She couldn't continue like this, couldn't live with the uncertainty of his fickle affections…of his fidelity.

Only three months before, she had been fully prepared to rear their child on her own, but then he had come to her, voicing everything her heart yearned for—sweet promises she never expected to hear from his beautiful lips. He had vowed to love, honor, and cherish her—to forsake all others, and she had drunk in every intoxicating word, until giddiness filled her very being. But now these same vows were her sword and shield. With them Diana was armed to face Ludovic and would wield them mercilessly in her fight for her marriage.

***

Ludovic was exhausted. He had left DeVere House near midnight—after he and Ned had gotten Sin foxed enough to abduct him from the rooms he had refused to leave. They had remained at DeVere House only long enough to see their friend comfortably installed in DeVere's own luxurious chambers, where Simon would awake to find himself in Salime's tender care.

Although it was a highly unorthodox proposition, Ludovic had full confidence in Salime's ability to effect Simon's cure. He had departed London in the belief that no further intervention would be needed. Simon was a man with a man's needs. Even blemished as she was, Salime was still an exceedingly desirable woman, and one skilled in all manner of pleasure. They were alone together in the lap of luxury. Nature would surely take its course.

Smug in the knowledge that he had done a supreme service for two friends in need, Ludovic wasted no further time in departing for Kent, where he fully intended to indulge his own needs with the woman he adored beyond reason. In his urgency to return to Diana, he had pushed his harried coachman beyond the bounds of all good sense—nearly overturning the damned vehicle thrice along the way—but now here he was, happy to be returned to Medford Abbey, the former mausoleum that had become a home at last.

Taking the steps two at a time, his boot heels struck the marble stairs leading to his and Diana's apartments. His drowsy valet, Masters, met him in his dressing room and immediately went to work, but the moment Ludovic was divested of his boots and tight-fitting coat, Diana appeared in the doorway. She looked wan and drawn, as though she hadn't slept, and Ludovic was instantly beset by a pang of guilt. Although he had not intended to wake her, in his eagerness to see her, he had made no great effort to prevent it either.

He was further unsettled to find, rather than a warm smile of greeting, a slight frown marring her features when their gazes met. "Are you all right, my pet?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm fine," she remarked stiffly. "And glad you are arrived safely, my lord."