A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(11)

Hew's face flushed. "Mayhap I said more than I should have."

"Nevertheless, you must now explain," said Diana. "Is my husband in danger?"

"Only if he has a predilection for hard drinking, deep gaming, and low company," DeVere answered with a smirk.

"Dear God." Diana cast all three men an accusing look. "Why on earth have you waited so long to retrieve him?"

"Because he has already been there three days, madam," said DeVere. "I assure you the damage is already done. Besides, one must make allowance for a gentleman's dignity. To have appeared immediately upon your known arrival to fetch him here would have implied..."

"What?" she demanded.

His lips twitched in obvious amusement. "To put it politely...that he is less than master of his own domain."

Diana's met DeVere's mocking smile with a look of reproach. "And thus, does the devil look after his own."





Chapter Four


"It appears our Colonel is entertaining," Hew remarked. Though the hour was advanced, the scene was much as they had envisioned it would be when they arrived at O'Kelly's mansion. Grooms milled about, horse-drawn vehicles overflowed the courtyard, and every window was ablaze with the glow of candles.

"His house is always full when he comes down for the races," said DeVere. "He and his consort, Mrs. Hayes, are a notoriously cunning pair of adventurers who use such lavish entertainment to gain the confidence of their guests." He lowered his voice. "While Madam Hayes provides the carnal delights of her filles de joies straight from her London brothels, our good Colonel, who keeps as deep a cellar as my own, plies his intended dupes with drink. When the time is right, the dice boxes and faro tables appear."

"But I'm confounded how Reginald fell in with them," said Ned with a frown.

"Perhaps I can enlighten you on that score," Hew said. "A few days ago, when I came in from a training run on the downs, I encountered three gentlemen—and I use the term generously—one of whom I recognized as our neighbor, O'Kelly. I gathered from snippets of conversation that the fellows were previously acquainted with one another and had met up quite by happenstance at a tavern in Ewell. While there was some talk of breeding one of the mares to our Snap stallion, the Colonel convinced the chap that he would be better to look at Eclipse instead. I now have no doubt in my mind that O'Kelly accompanied Lord Reginald as a convenient excuse to spy upon his competition."

"They paid me no heed at all, likely presuming I was the stable master, and unaware that one of the three was your expected guest Lord Reginald, I was not inclined to undeceive them. The three shortly departed, presumably to Clay Hill."

"And thus did our good neighbor prime his pigeon for the plucking," remarked DeVere.

"I wish I had spoken of this earlier," said Hew with a frown.

"Don't blame yourself," said Ned. "You are not the man's keeper. And if they were previously acquainted as you say, there is nothing you could have done without insulting O'Kelly."

When the trio rapped at the door, the footman only had to glance at their rich dress before shepherding them straight into the main reception room, hazy with pipe smoke, redolent of the free-flowing liquor, and resounding with raucous laughter and the rattle of dice boxes.

Ned heaved a great sigh as his gaze skirted the room. "I must say my sympathy is with Diana. All we can do now is serve her best interests by extracting the hapless sheep from the wolf's den."

Ned and Hew circulated the rooms in search of Lord Reginald while DeVere sought out the master of the house. He found his quarry, O'Kelly, presiding over the hazard table. He sketched the shallowest of bows. "A private word with you, sir?"

"By Jaysus," O'Kelly exclaimed, slapping his thigh. "If isn't his eminence the viscount himself paying a call on his lowly neighbor!"

DeVere ignored the sarcasm. "If I have been negligent, sir, I meant no slight. I am only just come down from London and have been much occupied with guests of my own, one of whom appears to have gone astray."

"Astray? An interesting choice of words, your lardship."

DeVere's gaze casually tracked the room."Perhaps we could speak of it in a less public sphere?"

"Why, anything to oblige my neighbor," said O'Kelly with obsequious joviality. "Like any fine jontlemen, I have a study to conduct my business affairs."

"Then pray, let us repair to it."

Nodding to the groom-porter, O'Kelly gave up the dice box and beckoned DeVere to follow. They entered the man's private study. "Perhaps you would care to have a drink with me, Lard DeVere? I'll brook no refusal, you know. What will it be? Brandy? Port? Madeira? I have only the finest in my cellar."

"So I hear," DeVere stroked the Irishman's self-conceit. While impatient to be about his business, he knew he had to handle the adventurer with considerable tact. "A good brandy would not go astray." Lounging in a large, leather chair, he accepted the glass and took an appreciative sip. "Fine brandy, indeed."

O'Kelly nodded and with a grunt settled his considerable bulk into a chair opposite. "You came searching for someone?"

"Just so. And while I ascribe to the philosophy of letting each man go to the devil his own way, I tend to take exception when I must play host to said gentleman's fretful wife."