A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(4)

Though professing nothing but robust health to her husband, the prominence of her fragile cheekbones and pale blue shadows beneath her eyes belied Annalee's exuberant claims. It was her sixth pregnancy, and none had gone easy. After a difficult birth with her daughter Vesta, the physician had warned that she might never carry another child to term. Yet disconsolate after four miscarriages, Annalee was still determined to produce a male heir.

To all outward appearances, Edward and Annalee were the perfect couple. Part of Diana wanted to believe their happiness a fa?ade, if only to ameliorate her own discontent, but their affection and Annalee's multiple pregnancies were proof enough of their genuine affection. Diana couldn't help a deep pang of envy but consoled herself that at least she'd never had to suffer the anguish of a miscarriage or the intense suffering of a stillbirth as Annalee had. But her own womb ached in its emptiness and her heart with paroxysms of longing. If there was one word that best described her entire life, it was surely unfulfilled.

"Not at all, dearest. I have never travelled with greater ease," Annalee replied.

"I am much relieved," Edward said.

Diana averted her gaze at the overt display of affection as Edward plied a kiss to Annalee's hand, his warm gaze resting on her with a loving concern. "I'm still glad to have arrived at last," said Annalee. "I don't think I could have endured another day confined to this carriage, although I surely could not have withstood it at all without Diana. I am so glad you and Lord Reginald accepted Lord DeVere's invitation."

Diana forced a laugh. "One never has to give Reggie much encouragement to try a new horse. He accompanied our head groom a sennight ago with our two best horses, my mare to breed and a stallion to race. Reggie said it would be advantageous to accustom them to the lay of the land."

Guileless Annalee gave her a compassionate smile, and suddenly, Diana realized that they already knew the truth. Reggie had had no need to accompany the horses to Surrey. Employing an army of grooms to attend their beloved horses, he had sought a convenient excuse to avoid the trap of days on end in her company. Yet Diana was determined to maintain her sham, the precious pretense that had become indispensable to her life.

"He was probably wise to have done so," Edward said. "He'll not find worthier competition than amongst DeVere's racing stock."

"It would not hurt Reggie in the least to suffer a set-down, though I should hate to see our own horse lose. I fear my husband suffers the hubris of one who remains undefeated for three racing seasons," Diana said.

"His pride should be the least of your concerns," Edward remarked.

"What do you mean?" Diana grew instantly wary, given Reggie's predilection for drink and weakness for gaming.

"I've already warned Reginald to take care in any manner of wager with DeVere. Whether it be cards, dice, or horses, he has the devil's own luck."

Diana's brows puckered in censure. "You mean the viscount is a wastrel."

Annalee gave a subtle nod.

"I would not say so," Edward argued. "He is my best friend, after all. No, I would best describe DeVere as a capricious man with a subversive streak. He won't be ruled by anyone."

"You may paint him whatever shade you like, dear Edward, but if the boot still fits..." Diana gave a disdainful sniff. "And such men are ruined every day. It's inconceivable how many live in such selfish degeneracy to the destruction of their own noble houses and without the least compunction."

Ned raised a hand in objection. "Pray disabuse yourself of that notion, my dear Diana. Though one might deem DeVere's behavior self-destructive, I assure you he has not diminished his family fortune a whit. A true Midas touch has he. In fact, DeVere is the luckiest ba—" Annalee shot him a warning look. "…devil I know."

"Is that so?" Diana's lips curved into a half smile. "Then betwixt Reggie and DeVere, this shall surely prove a diverting excursion."

With that pronouncement, the chaise occupied by its two ladies and gentleman owner, with their outriders, servants, and baggage train, passed through the wooded eminence surrounding the vast estate to make its grand entrance through the gates of Woodcote Park.

***

Laughing and chattering, the small troupe alighted from their carriage in front of an elegant stone and stucco fa?ade, initiating a flurry of activity. Several grooms emerged from nowhere to take charge of coach and horses, while an army of footmen materialized to unload their baggage.

Amidst this scene, their host appeared at the top of the white marble landing, affecting a pose with his quizzing glass, and presumably assessing the efficiency of his staff. Diana thought he closely resembled a king surveying his domain. Strikingly garbed in peacock-blue silk brocade with cascades of Mechlin lace, he appeared in all the sartorial splendor of his lofty station. Her initial impression of arrogance and hauteur shattered, however, with his rapid descent down the stairs. He was upon them in an instant, pulling Edward into a hearty embrace.

"Ned, you dull dog, it's been too long! And my dear Annalee, lovely as ever." He took possession of her hands, but instead of the expected brush over her fingers, he bussed both of her cheeks in the continental style. Diana stood in the background observing the viscount with bemusement. He was nothing like she had expected.

Annalee prompted Diana forward. "My Lord DeVere, may I present to you my cousin, the Baroness Diana Palmerston-Wriothesley."