A Wild Night's Bride (The Devil DeVere #1)(35)

With growing concern over Vesta’s unhappiness and feelings of neglect, Diana was determined to talk with Sir Edward at the earliest opportunity.

***

Phoebe woke to the sound of a cock-crow and the first rays of sunlight spilling through the window. It was heavenly to be back in the country, away from the muck and grime and constant deafening clamor of the city. The house was spacious, the servants cheerfully efficient, and her chamber lovely, although she would have little use for it. The estate was large and prosperous due to Ned’s assiduous oversight of the smallest details. She loved that about him, his strong sense of responsibility...his steadfast and kind nature...his generosity, especially as a lover. She had never known a man could care so much for her satisfaction or that he could positively delight in her pleasure. She gave a lazy, feline stretch, thinking she couldn’t remember ever feeling more at peace, more fulfilled in her entire life...until she remembered Vesta.

She dearly wished that Annalee’s cousin, Diana, had not been present upon their arrival, but she had cared for Vesta in her father’s absence. It was a detail Ned had neglected to share with her, the close relationship of Vesta and her “Aunt Di.” Although Phoebe had made every effort to be warm, their first meeting had been awkward and in truth, little short of disastrous. Ned had counseled patience, but Phoebe wondered bitterly if Vesta would ever give her a chance with Diana still in the picture.

Refusing to dwell on anything unpleasant when her heart was otherwise bursting with happiness, Phoebe settled her gaze on Ned. Her pulse quickened in admiration of his handsome profile, boyish in sleep, and the subtle curve of his sensuous mouth. She allowed her focus to linger there, wetting her lips with the sudden desire to kiss him awake, but then her gaze drifted lower, over the sculpted muscles of his chest, the erotic trail of dark hair, and her blood pooled hot in her belly. Peeling back the covers, she unveiled the object of her consummate fascination and infinite delight, suddenly filled with the devilish desire to wake him in another manner altogether.

***

Diana had arrived early, intending to catch Edward at breakfast, their customary time for discussing the day’s business, but after waiting an hour, he still hadn’t appeared. Concerned about this deviation from his normally rigid routine, Diana swept into his study with no more than a perfunctory knock.

“Good morning, Sir Edward. We really need to speak about Ves—” The sight greeting Diana nearly made her swallow her tongue.

Phoebe sat astride his lap with her gown pulled up to her waist. His cravat dangled loosely about his neck; his shirt and waistcoat hung open. While the desk standing between the couple and Diana hid the full extent of their depravity from view, it was clear what she’d interrupted. Eyes wide with surprise and bleating a belated squeal at the intrusion, the new bride withdrew so violently from her husband’s embrace that she thumped to the floor.

“I—I was just bringing Ned his coffee,” Phoebe stammered, pressing a hand to her kiss-swollen lips while Ned fumbled to put himself to rights.

Nearly as flustered as the concupiscent culprits, Diana backed awkwardly out of the room. “So very sorry... I had no idea... How terribly thoughtless of me...”

She closed the door with a decisive click and leaned against it with a great sigh, her emotions a jumble of shock and envy. Even in the best of times in their early marriage, Reginald had never made love to her outside of her bed, let alone in broad daylight in his study! She realized with a painful wrench that things would never be the same. For Diana, the new arrangement was simply intolerable.

With stinging eyes, she thumped her head softly against the door panel. The action born of frustration jolted her brain, and the obvious answer came upon her like a bolt from the blue. It was so very simple. I will take Vesta to London.

***

“Are you quite sure about this, Diana?” Sir Edward asked when she put forth the notion. “Vesta is a headstrong girl and may prove a greater responsibility than you wish.”

Although his sentiments were all well and proper, Diana couldn’t help thinking his demeanor suggested as much eagerness to remain in his love nest as Diana felt to escape it.

“I foresee no trouble with Vesta,” she said with confidence. “She and I have developed a very good understanding over the past three years. You know, she has become almost a daughter to me.” Or, better said, the daughter I almost had.

He studied her in a long moment of thoughtful consideration. “You aren’t really leaving because...” He looked flustered. “You see, I had hoped you and Phoebe...”

“Would become friends?” she finished with a forced smile. “But of course we shall!” When hell doth freeze over.

“I am so pleased,” he said. “You have been such an important part of our lives. I had feared...” He gave a helpless shrug.

“Don’t be absurd, dear Edward.” She emitted a brittle laugh. “I am delighted that you are so happy.” I just hope you don’t soon expire of a heart seizure out of zeal for your new husbandly duties.

“You are certain that this is what you wish, Diana? To leave Thornhill?”

She played with her gloves, refusing to meet his gaze. “I have long denied myself a trip to London. My gowns are all sadly outmoded, and I shall certainly relish the change in scenery after being buried in the country for so long.”

“Very well,” he said. “You will find the house comfortably furnished and fully staffed. I will, of course, provide a generous allowance for anything either of you should need. If anything unanticipated should transpire, you need only look to DeVere—”