A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(22)

"But we still have the race," answered Johnson. "While the prize money won't be as much as we'd hoped to gain, surely it will suffice for a time. Were you successful with O'Kelly's man?"

"Aye. The avaricious bastard. There was at least one hundred pounds in gold coin and bejeweled baubles in that purse."

Her purse! Her jewels!

"O'Kelly's man will need to disappear to the north," Johnson said. "The Colonel is not a man to cross."

"Precisely why we have taken particular care in our arrangements, but the matter is settled," Reggie said with a dismissive wave. "What now of DeVere's jockey groom? Have you made contact with him yet?"

"Aye. Pratt seems a pliable sort. Given a bit of grease, he'll throw the race sure enough," said Johnson.

"How much?" Reggie asked.

"Fifty quid should suffice."

"'Tis near enough to keep him in the style of a gentleman for a year. Tell him he gets half now and the rest after we win. You are as sure of him as we are of the other?"

"Aye. More so. He risks nothing as his lordship's horse is untried and a long shot at best. 'Twill be no surprise if they lose, and the groom needn't fear getting the boot."

"Then that takes care of our two main competitors."

"But there be six running. What if we don't win?"

"There you go again! Don't even think such negative thoughts. You know our entire fate rests between your hands and that stallion's legs. Win that race for us and you win our freedom."

"You are certain about this, Reggie?" Johnson said. "You are still willing to make the sacrifice?"

Their nefarious plan to fix the race had become clear, but Diana found her bewilderment only increasing. Sacrifice? What on earth were they talking about?

A pause followed. "Have I ever given you reason to doubt me before, my dear?"

My dear? She shook her head, disbelieving her ears. Why would Reggie be on such terms of affection with his groom?

"Never," Johnson answered.

"Good then. Don't start now," said Reggie.

"But you have so much more to lose than I."

"No dearest, we've so much to gain," said Reggie. His tone had softened. He smiled tenderly and reached out a hand to Johnson's shoulder.

"But your position, your estate—"

"Mean nothing to me, while you are everything. You must always remember that, Jemmie. Win us the three thousand, and we'll be on the first packet to France and then on to Italy. Devil take the hindmost."

"Italy," Johnson murmured, a note of wistfulness in his voice. "Is it really so different there?"

"I have never been, but I have it straight from Thomas Patch who makes his livelihood painting portraits of English gentlemen on the grand tour, that none in Florence have ever looked askance at he and Horace. In Italy, we'll have no need to hide our love in shame."

Reggie cast a glance down the aisle in both directions. His voice lowered and grew almost unrecognizably thick. "As to that, are you quite certain we're alone here?"

"Aye, but they'll be readying the next lot of horses within the hour to take to the down."

"Will they, indeed? Then let us steal what time we may." They proceeded toward the empty boxes farther down and Diana heard the door of one of them slide open and close again, thereby muffling the voices. In a daze of incredulity, she exited her horse's box. Hugging the wall, she moved stealthily down the wide-cobbled aisle until she heard the low murmurs accompanied now by panting breaths.

Rising onto her toes, she peered over the top of the wall, and her stomach lurched. For between the iron bars, the truth of her fraudulent marriage flashed before her eyes. Reggie had Johnson in an impassioned embrace with their mouths melded in a lovers' kiss. The quivers of shock resonated through her in rivulets that fast became a raging torrent when the latter released her husband's erect penis from his breeches and went down on his knees.

Stifling her gasp with her fist, Diana fled the stables before her own legs buckled beneath her. She ran blindly back up the gravel path. What a bloody fool she'd been! How could she not have realized? She'd already known of Reggie's unnatural preference in the bedchamber, yet in her naiveté, she'd never fathomed that he might secretly be a sodomite. It was a whispered abomination, a crime against God and nature, a deadly sin preached from every pulpit that warranted the Old Testament penalty of death. It was nothing she ever could have foreseen touching her own life.

She reached the house, darting past the bewildered servants and scurrying up the staircase to the sanctuary of her own chambers. She only managed to close the door behind her when her tremulous body gave way. Closing her eyes in shock and mortification, she slid against the door into a crumpled heap, face buried in her hands. It was there alone that she finally broke down.





Chapter Eight


"Are you all right, my lady?" Polly asked with a look of apprehension.

Diana knew she was a mess both inside and out. Weak and mildly nauseated from her exhausting emotional display, her eyes burned, and her hair hung limp and lank about her tearstained face. She needed no mirror to explain the maid's alarm. "Yes, Polly. I must have fainted," she lied. "But I'm fine now." She rose from the floor on shaky legs, brushing her skirts with trembling hands.