The Devil You Know (The Devil DeVere #3)(3)

Chuckling at his dispassionate conclusion, Ludovic took up Beauclerc’s abandoned drink with an inward smile as another consoling thought came to mind. The burning question of Caroline’s capacity for fidelity no longer plagued him, but he would soon ensure that it plagued the good duke instead.

***

“Damme,” said Ned a few hours later in Ludovic’s crested carriage. “I’m stunned. Ludovic Lord DeVere, legendary lover, cast aside like some old shoe?”

“Lady Caroline and that old fop? I never would have believed it,” Annalee agreed.”It’s truly beyond comprehension. You were, by all appearances, the perfect couple.”

“Your naiveté astonishes me,” Ludovic said.

“I must say I regret to see your cynicism prove itself yet again,” Ned replied.

“Cynicism?” Ludovic laughed. “I am nothing if not a realist, dear Ned. In all fairness, do you honestly think that in Caroline’s 6

stead, you would not also have grabbed for the golden goose?

Damned if I wouldn’t have!” He smiled, a broad flash of even, white teeth. “But don’t fear I shall spend any tears over it, ol’

chum, especially when she consoled me in advance with such a magnificent parting gift.”

“What do you mean?” Annalee asked.

DeVere’s lips twitched. “Dear, sweet, innocent Annalee, I leave it to your devoted husband to illuminate you.”

Ned scowled. Annalee blushed. “So it’s truly over between you?” she asked.

“Truly, it never was,” DeVere said. “I never even made the formal proposal and would not have pursued her in the first place were it not for my damned Pater. Though he didn’t take to the shackles himself ‘til he’d turned the half century mark. If there’s aught that I can’t abide, it’s hypocrisy. The bloody devil rebuking sin is what that is!”

“Surely one can’t blame a man for wanting to ensure the continuation of his line,” Annalee remarked.

“It’s a damnable obsession,” DeVere said. “He’s bloody well fixated on his death, though he’s already managed to linger at its door far longer than is considered civil.”

“You really ought not to speak of your own father in such a way,” Annalee reproached.

“You might feel differently if ever you met the poxy, old bas—”

“He’s justifiably distraught, my dear,” Ned interjected with a gentle hand over his wife’s. “A gentleman needs to blow off steam in such circumstances as these. Why don’t I take you home?”

She arched a brow. “So you and DeVere can go back out and get thoroughly foxed?”

“Well, yes,” Ned confessed. “That’s generally how it’s done.”

Annalee gave them both a warning look. “Just promise me no fisticuffs, Ned.”

“Fisticuffs?” He appeared to be affronted. “Why the devil do you think I would engage in fisticuffs?”

“I’ve ears on my head. I know how you and DeVere were used to entertaining yourselves.”

“But that was long before I met you, my sweet.” Ned raised her hand to his lips.

7

The Devil You Know

She gave a disbelieving huff. “You shan’t bamboozle me, Neddie. I know leopards do not change their spots.” She looked to DeVere with a scowl. “I don’t relish the mortification of collect-ing my husband from the round house come morning. Do you understand me, my lord?”

DeVere smirked. “Absolutely, my lady.” He added to Ned in an undertone, “Since I don’t see the ring in your nose, I can only imagine she’s put one through your ba—”

“Ah! We’ve arrived!” Ned pronounced as the carriage lurched to a halt. “I’ll escort Annalee inside and return directly.”

Ludovic watched them depart arm-in-arm, musing how three short years of so-called connubial bliss had nearly emasculated his best friend. He pulled a flask of brandy from his breast pocket, up-ending it in a salute to the beneficent guardian angel who had allowed his own near escape from the same woeful fate.

8

Victoria Vane





Chapter One


Epsom, Surrey, 1779

While her traveling companion softly drowsed, Diana pulled aside the velvet curtain of the post-chaise, lost more in her own musings than in study of the landscape which was now greatly transformed from the hills, escarpments, and broad valleys of south Yorkshire whence they’d departed to the more gently rolling chalk downlands of Surrey.

The pace in which they’d traveled could only be described as leisurely, with frequent stops at points of interest and a three-day shopping spree in London, after which they’d had to acquire an entire baggage coach. Yet, travel-weary after long days of rough going on the muddy and ill-repaired roads, Diana was envious of the gentlemen whose mere gender allowed them the freedom to gallivant the countryside on horseback. Had it not been for Annalee, she might well have thrown decorum aside and joined 9

The Devil You Know

them. Her gaze returned to the gently snoring form of her cousin and dearest friend.

The carriage unexpectedly jolted to a halt. A brisk knock on the window followed. Diana opened the door just as Sir Edward Chambers dismounted from his horse and handed the reins to his groom. Annalee stirred, her soft brown eyes opening wide and doe-like. “Are we arrived at last?” she asked.