A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(42)

She appeared both incredulous and infuriated. It was precisely the reaction he had sought to achieve, but it gave him little satisfaction. Ludovic found it a struggle to maintain his impassive facade and blithe tone.

"For obvious reasons, I am unable to convey upon you the title to the estate. Yet this ninety-nine year lease ensures your future security with continued and uninterrupted residence at Palmerston Hall at the negligible sum of one pound per annum. The execution needs only your signature." With a gesture, he indicated the quill and ink awaiting her on the blotter.

"What of the stables, the horses?" she asked.

He laughed. "I fear my largesse does not extend as far as the horseflesh, as that was what I sought to begin with."

"It was only for the horses?"

He inclined his head. Best to let her believe that rather than the truth—that he had bought the debt rather than allow her life to be destroyed by her wastrel husband. "You may keep your mare, of course, but all the others will join my stables."

"I don't understand. Why do you do this?" she asked, indicating the document.

"Is it not obvious? It is customary to provide former mistresses with a parting gift. While it is usually in the form of diamonds or emeralds, I thought this gesture would be more welcome in your straightened circumstances. I have also spoken at length with Lord Derby who has agreed to dispense with half of the prize money. Thus, you shall also have a comfortable nest egg of fifteen hundred pounds."

Diana gaped. "P-parting gift?"

He brought her hand to his lips for a lingering kiss. "It was lovely while it lasted, my dear Diana, but my attention is sadly difficult to maintain for any duration. Ennui, you understand. It is a curse, really, as I am continually compelled to seek out new diversions...new companions."

She blinked. Her lower lip quivered. "Then that is all this was to you? A brief diversion?"

"Don't take it to heart, pet. Passion like we've shared never lasts. In my experience amorous idylls are best ended before the bloom is fallen from the rose and only thorns remain."

"I see," said Diana stiffly.

No. She only saw what he allowed her to see.

She picked up the document. "You flatter me with your generosity, my lord. I understand even the most exclusive courtesans may be had for one hundred per night. It seems in only two nights, I have warranted over four thousand."

If she'd wielded a rapier, it would not have cut deeper. "Don't sully what we had, Diana," he growled.

"It is not I, but you who have done so, my lord. By your offer, you have made me your whore, but then again, a woman in my position would be a fool to refuse. And I am no fool."

He could see the struggle for composure in her trembling hand and the splattered drops of ink as she scrawled a hasty signature. "I shall order my bags packed immediately," she said. "The sooner I depart the better."

"Perhaps that's for the best, but you need not be anxious about crossing my path again, as I leave for London within the hour. Edward and Annalee will depart soon thereafter. You will accompany them back to your home where no doubt, given time, all will return to a state of normalcy."

"Yes," she said hollowly. "No doubt it will." She turned for the door in an abrupt rustle of petticoats, but her hand paused on the knob. "There is something I must know." Her back was still turned to him. "Did you do it? Did you kill Reggie?"

"Were you anyone else, I would not even dignify that with an answer." His temper flared white-hot, but by holding himself in tight check, he managed to respond. "Did I have motive to kill him? Perhaps. Did I have desire to do so? Undoubtedly, on several occasions. I only needed to look upon him to feel the urge. But were I to kill a man, Diana, it would never be in a clandestine manner. I would look him in the eye as the last breath left his body, and he would know it was me who pulled the trigger or impaled him upon my sword."

"But what of your own father?" she asked.

"My father is both alive and well cared for, and that is all you or anyone else need know," he said, nearly gnashing his teeth.

"I'm sorry. It's just that the duchess..."

"Caroline is a meddlesome bitch!"

"Thank you for answering," she said. "It was impertinent on my part." With quiet dignity, Diana departed from his study and from his life without looking back.

After the door clicked softly behind her, Ludovic smashed his fist on the desk, clearing it of all its contents, splattering ink pots and scattering papers in an enraged swipe. For two brief nights, he had known solace, the peace his soul desperately sought, and now it was gone. Gone with her. "Bloody hell! Goddamn bloody hell!"

And the sooner he too departed from this accursed place, the better. He poured a drink and downed it in one angry draught before calling for his horse.

***

Diana's departure from Woodcote Park was much as she recalled her arrival less than a sennight ago with she and Annalee sharing the coach and Sir Edward mounted with the outriders. She once more gazed sightlessly out the windows, lost in melancholy reflection.

"I thought DeVere's departure was rather abrupt," Annalee said. "But I suppose nothing he does should surprise me by now. He is an abominably capricious man."

"I hadn't noticed," said Diana with a sharp pang, wishing to talk about anything but DeVere.