The Devil's Match (The Devil DeVere #4)(16)

Salime rose with jangling bracelets and tinkling bells and departed without another word, her giant eunuch trailing, and her words echoing long after her. He is also a fool to care for one who does not even know him... It is he who would soon be enslaved, heart and soul—prostrate at your feet.





Chapter Seven





Thornhill Park, South Yorkshire, two weeks later





Be-gowned in apricot silk moiré trimmed with peach bows and blonde lace, Lady Vesta Chambers descended the stairs on her father’s arm. The color combination of her dress was both striking and innocent, complimenting her flawless complexion and enhancing the natural blush in Vesta’s cheeks. With her mahogany ringlets elegantly coifed atop her head, appearing as regal as a queen surveying her domain, Vesta paused to gaze upon the crowd of well-wishers that packed the ballroom. Her countenance luminous with happiness, Diana thought she had never appeared more lovely and radiant.

Although always considered uncommonly handsome, Diana knew she paled in comparison to the younger woman. This night was a stark reminder of the ephemeral quality of youth, and that her own had been wasted. At two-and-thirty, the first blush was long off the rose, and her reflection had begun to show faint lines worn by unhappy years. Although delighted for Vesta, who would soon begin a new life as Captain Hewett DeVere’s wife, Diana wondered dismally what her own future would hold.

“What a beautiful bride she makes,” Lady Phoebe Chambers gushed, appearing at Diana’s side.

“She looks so much like her mother,” Diana remarked with a hint of sadness.

“Annalee was your cousin, was she not?” Phoebe asked.

“Yes,” Diana replied. “But we were much more like sisters.”

“I can imagine how difficult all of this must be for you,” Phoebe said. “My marriage to Ned, Vesta’s engagement to Hew; the suddenness of it must have been quite a shock, but I never intended to come between any of you, you know. Ned is very hurt that our marriage may have alienated you.”

Diana studied the woman she had once believed her nemesis. She had, indeed, despised Phoebe, casting all culpability on the pert and pretty former actress for disrupting her neatly ordered life, but she realized now how selfish and self-absorbed she had been to do so. Ned had grieved the loss of Annalee for over three years. Eschewing all pleasurable pursuits, he had dedicated the last few years to managing his estate and raising his daughter, but now Vesta was grown, and Ned, of all people, deserved to be happy again. Besides, upon further acquaintance, Phoebe had shown herself to be a lady of good breeding and not the stage strumpet Diana had in her prejudice supposed her to be.

“Please, my lady,” Phoebe said, “I would never presume to replace Annalee in anyone’s affections, but if we could only be friends, it would mean so very much to Ned...and to me.” Phoebe regarded her with earnest blue eyes that could not hide her wistfulness. Softening, Diana vowed in that moment to be more civil.

“Please accept my apologies for my reserve, Lady Chambers—”

“Just Phoebe,” the other woman insisted.

“Phoebe. You are right. There have been many abrupt changes, and I have blamed you unfairly, but I suppose life must go on.”

They both turned their attention to the bottom of the grand staircase, where with a rapt expression, Captain Hewett received his bride-to-be. A footman offered champagne to all, and Phoebe accepted two glasses. “To new beginnings?” she prompted, handing one to Diana. Diana inclined her head with a smile.

“What a lovely engagement party, Papa!” Vesta declared in a voice breathy with excitement as she, Hew, and Edward joined the two women. “Look, Hew!” Vesta pointed to the string quartet. “The musicians are preparing to play. We must form up for the dancing soon.” Her excited gaze darted about the room. “But where is Uncle Vic?”

“I have yet to see him,” Hew replied with a frown. “He was supposed to have arrived two days ago with some horses he intended to race at Doncaster, but I haven’t heard from him. I sent Pratt to locate him hours ago.”

Vesta’s joyful countenance crumpled.

“Don’t take it to heart,” Edward said. “DeVere has a strong aversion to all things matrimonial.”

“But he would never miss our engagement party! Would he?” Vesta asked.

Ned shrugged, but Hew’s expression hardened. “I know he despises all the social niceties, but he will surely live to regret it, my love, if he does not show.”

“But he must! He is the best man and the highest-ranking guest. The rules of precedence dictate that he begins the dancing.”

“Dancing? My brother?” Hew laughed. “I fear you may expect too much, Vesta. I can’t recall the last time Ludovic graced a dance floor. Can you, Sir Edward?”

“I believe it may have been at my own wedding to Annalee. Caroline Capheaton somehow managed to coerce him.”

“Caroline? The duchess?” Diana asked. “One need not stretch the imagination to guess what inducement she must have used.”

Edward’s brows shot up, and Diana wished she had held her tongue.

Vesta’s gaze narrowed. “Well, he will do it for me, Hew. I swear he will. I will not let anything spoil the happiest night of my life.” She shot him a sidelong glance, adding with a coquettish smile, “Well, maybe the second happiest night.”