A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(47)

"Rain or shine? A horsewoman after my own heart then. Since it appears we share a similar habit, would you care to ride with me on the morrow?"

Vesta's eyes widened, but then she seemed to catch herself. "I suppose it might be arranged," she answered coyly.

"Delightful!" Hew replied and turned back to Diana. "As I recall, you also ride, do you not, Baroness?"

"Indeed, I do, but it's been a while—"

"You must join us then. Hyde Park is at its best in the early hours before the inane parade of preening humanity takes over. Shall I bring the horses for you both at seven?"

"That is very kind of you, Captain DeVere."

"Hew, please, my lady."

Diana hesitated and then smiled. "Shall we settle on Captain Hew?"

"It is a beginning," he said with a gleam in his eye. "Until the morrow then, my lady."

***

True to his word, Ludovic returned from Epsom the next evening in time to sup with his brother. After indulging in five heavy courses, he beckoned for a refill of his wine and slumped in his chair. "I assume you've paid your duty call to Upper Grosvenor?"

Hew smiled. "I, indeed, paid a call and discovered to my delight that it was not in the least onerous. On the contrary, it was most pleasurable."

"Was it, at that?" DeVere look intrigued. "And how is little Vesta?"

"Vesta? She has quite the look of Annalee about her, pretty enough to take, I suppose, but a timid little thing."

DeVere studied his glass. "She's coming out this season. Comes from excellent stock and has a healthy dowry."

Hew raised a hand. "Rein back, big brother! I recall you promised me no interference on that front—choosing my own path to hell and all that rot. Don't think to match me with some simpering chit just because you desire an alliance with your best friend!"

DeVere gave a blithe shrug. "Simply pointing out the obvious advantages. Though you do surprise me by your description of the girl. Although I have not seen her in several years, I seem to recall Vesta as an unusually spirited child."

"The only spirit I saw was in her damned horse. I don't know what Ned was thinking to have sent such a high-strung mare with his daughter."

"What do you mean? I've seen the chit on the hunt. As a child of no more than thirteen, she was already taking fences with the best of them."

"Well, she nearly took the bloody hedgerow into Kensington Gardens this morning! The horse bolted, she lost her reins, though I'm not sure in which order. When I caught up to them, she was clinging like a grapevine to the mare's neck, and I was certain she'd break her own. I was in danger of a heart seizure myself until I plucked her from the saddle. She then fainted dead away in my arms." Hew drained his glass.

"You do not describe the girl I remember." DeVere added with rare reflection, "But then again, I suppose one should expect some diminished exuberance after the loss of her mother."

"I will say her present guardian seems to have done a remarkable job in assuming the role," Hew said.

Ludovic arch a brow. "You speak of the duenna? Was she not the dragon we expected?"

Hew chuckled. "Far from it, brother mine. She is closer to her namesake, the goddess huntress and protector of virgins."

His gaze narrowed. "You speak of Annalee's cousin, Diana? Has she, indeed, come to London after all these years?"

"She has. And I am delighted for it. Why so surprised?"

"After all that transpired with her husband, I thought she would avoid causing the resurrection of the old scandal."

"But isn't it all just ancient history now?"

"Old sins, even unfounded ones, cast long shadows, especially among the ton."

"But surely you don't think a woman like that should bury herself in the country forever?"

Ludovic fixed his brother with a probing stare. "You seem inordinately interested in the baroness, Hew."

Hew straightened his spine. "What if I am?"

"She hardly meets the criterion we agreed upon. First off," Ludovic began ticking off his manicured fingers, "she was wed for many years without producing any offspring."

"If rumors about her husband were true, one can hardly lay the blame at her feet."

"Nevertheless, she is three and thirty, if a day—a bit long in the tooth when considering a broodmare."

"It makes not the least difference to me if she's a few years my senior—"

"A half dozen at least—" Ludovic interjected.

"And she could still have a full dozen fruitful breeding years remaining—"

"There's the matter of a dowry—"

Hew set his goblet down with a decisive clink. "She has an estate—"

"Wrong again, Hew. The estate is on a leasehold."

"And just how would you be privy to all this?" Hew asked.

"Because I hold the lease."

"Damn! You bought that blighter Lord Reggie's gaming debts?"

DeVere inclined his head.

"Why would you do such a thing?"

Ludovic answered with an impatient growl. "Why must everyone always ask why? I do because it suits me to do. I do not adhere to the worldview that one must always have a reason for everything. You should know this better than anyone. Now as to the handsome widow, while I commend your taste, you would do well to seek your mare in other pastures."