A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(62)

Vesta spun around to counter, "Or marry by arrangement and be miserable all the same?"

Touché. The point struck home. "That was unkind, Vesta."

"I'm sorry, but I know you were not happy with Lord Reggie, Aunt Di. We all knew it. Did you never love each other?" Vesta threw herself down on the bed and began plucking at the counterpane.

"No. We did not." Diana joined her goddaughter on the bed. She absently toyed with Vesta's curls as she spoke. "In the beginning, I had hoped that affection would grow between us...but it never did. As the years progressed, we came to live independent lives, and I would have carried on that way, had not Reggie ruined us. Yes, Vesta, I was unhappy in my marriage, but I was still a dutiful wife."

Diana was careful to avoid the word "faithful". While she certainly had regrets about the past, she refused to harbor any guilt about what had transpired between her and DeVere. Time had only increased her resentment over his abrupt and unexplained end to their affair, yet she was galled and dismayed to discover her attraction for him had failed to diminish. If anything, it had magnified. He was right, though she would slit her own throat before ever confessing it; she did still desire him and utterly despised herself for it.

"What really happened to Lord Reggie, Aunt Di?" Vesta paused her nervous fidgeting to ask. "You've never spoken of it."

"Because it is vastly unpleasant to do so," Diana said. "He was a compulsive gambler, and when it appeared he had lost nearly everything, he was found dead. That entire chapter of my life is over now and best forgotten."

Still, Vesta pressed her. "It happened at my godfather's country house in Epsom, did it not? I was not too young to remember. You and Mama and Papa went for a visit and came back early, but I never saw Lord Reggie again. No one ever said he was dead. No one told me anything at all. I didn't understand for the longest while." A moment of silence ensued. "How long did my parents know each other before they wed?"

Diana was thankful the topic had finally diverted away from herself. "I don't know," she answered. "A few months maybe? They met at my engagement party as I recall."

"How old were they?"

"Annalee had just passed her eighteenth summer."

"And my father was only a few months older than she was," Vesta said. "And you, Aunt Di, how old were you when you wed?"

"I was seventeen."

Vesta bolted upright. "A full year younger than me!" she declared. "See how unfair you are all being!"

"But, Vesta, the circumstances were completely different in my situation. My parents arranged the match—"

"To a man you just admitted you did not even love," Vesta accused.

Diana realized with a sigh that she had been outmaneuvered again. "But, dearest, we don't wish you to rush into something you may later regret. Sometimes our emotions lead us astray, and what we think we desire most at one moment becomes something that haunts us later. You must know we only care for your happiness."

"The only one who seems to truly care for my happiness is my godfather!" Vesta sniffed, tears beginning to mist her eyes. "Are you in love with him? Is that it?"

Diana paled. "How can you even ask such a thing? He is a vile man, nothing more than a licentious libertine!"

"How can you dare say such things, when you know Hew is all that is honorable and decent! You did want him, didn't you?" Vesta accused and tore herself away from Diana. "And now you hate him for choosing me instead! Well, you shan't have him, Aunt Di!"

"Hew?" Diana shook her head in bewilderment. "I thought we were talking of Lord DeVere."

"Lord DeVere?" Vesta froze, her hazel eyes turning into saucers. "You are in love with Uncle Vic? I surely cannot imagine a more unlikely pair!" She clutched her stomach and broke into a paroxysm of giggles.

"I am not in love with anyone," Diana protested, "least of all that...that...reprobate!"

"He does have lovely blue eyes," Vesta said. "And I daresay he's quite handsome for one so old. But I suppose he is the right age for you. You could be a viscountess, you know. But what a conundrum that would be! What should I call you then?" She gave Diana a puzzled look. "Would you be godmother, cousin, or sister?" Vesta clapped a hand to her mouth with another burst of mirth.

"Ludicrous!" Diana stood with a scowl. "I would never have such a man!"

"But why not, Aunt Di? Surely you could convince him. It only takes a bit of laudanum..." Vesta grinned and then suddenly grew serious. "Don't you ever get lonely?"

"Of course not! I have you and Sir Edward—"

"And now Phoebe?"

Diana grimaced. "I doubt she and I shall ever become bosom beaus."

"But what shall you do when Hew and I wed and I move away? What then, Aunt Di?"

It was a question Diana had not yet considered. Her life had been intertwined with Vesta and Edward's for so long that it was hard for her to fathom a future alone. "I don't honestly know, Vesta," she replied. "Perhaps, I should come and live in town." But that option would also mean she would inevitably encounter Lord DeVere. He had made his renewed interest clear. Wisdom and experience told her the sooner she put distance between them, the better.