The Virgin Huntress (The Devil DeVere #2)(10)

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

DeVere’s eyes 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?” Hew studied his face.

DeVere refused to meet his gaze. “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?”

DeVere looked up. “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?”

DeVere’s gaze narrowed to a pinpoint. “You seem inordinately interested in the baroness, Hew.”

Hew straightened his spine and squarely met his brother’s inquiring look. “What if I am?”

“She hardly meets the criterion we agreed upon.” DeVere began ticking off his manicured fingers. “First off, 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—” DeVere 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?”

DeVere looked annoyed. “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.”

“I’m not buying it, Vic.”

“What?” DeVere asked.

“Your dissuasion. Though you present a convincing argument, I think there’s more to it. You think I’m poaching on your preserves, don’t you?”

DeVere scowled. “You know bloody well I have no intentions in that quarter, or any other for that matter.”

“But of course,” Hew said mildly. “For surely, if you had, you would have made some miniscule effort toward achieving that end in these past four years, instead of gallivanting among the heathens, collecting concubines.”

“Hang you, Hew,” DeVere drawled. “This conversation has advanced beyond tedious to mind-numbing. Can we be done with it now?”

“Whatever you like, brother mine, but inheritance or no, I will be seeing Diana again.”

***

“What is it, Winchester?” Lord DeVere demanded, his black mood having refused to lift ever since last evening’s confrontation with Hew. Damn her for coming to town and disrupting his peace! And double-damn Hew for taking an interest in her. He’d spent nearly four years abroad, committing all manner of debauchery just to get her out of his system, and now this?

“My lord, there is a young and unattended female to see you. She is a most insistent creature.”

“Is she, indeed?” He was immediately intrigued. Only lately, a pert Covent Garden actress had sought him out as a protector...only to subsequently marry his best friend. His smile dimmed. “What does this creature look like?”

“Very young, my lord,” the majordomo said with a look of condemnation.

“Such censure from my own servant, Winchester?” DeVere laughed aloud. “I’ll be the judge. Pray bring the chit to me.”

The girl preceded Winchester into the room in a swirl of black cloak, throwing back her hood to reveal burnished mahogany ringlets and a startlingly familiar face.

He rose from his chair with a start. “I’ll be deuced if it isn’t Annalee reborn!”

“Then, you have a poor memory, my lord. Her eyes were brown. Mine are hazel. See?” She stepped closer with an impish smile.

DeVere felt the cloud about him instantly dissolve. He took her hand and bowed over it. “I stand corrected. Only Lady Vesta Chambers has such lovely, hazel eyes.”

“I feared you would not recognize me,” Vesta said.

“You had best be much more concerned that no one else does.” He scowled. “Where is your guardian? And what the devil do you mean coming alone to my house? No respectable young lady would be caught dead here.”

Vesta looked bewildered. “Whyever not? You are my godfather, after all.”

“But I have a rep—” He cleared his throat. “I have reasons, my dear.” DeVere took up his quill and scratched a brief note before ringing for his servant. “Winchester,” he commanded, “see this delivered at once to the Baroness Palmerston-Wriothesley at Upper Grosvenor, and then have my open chaise put to at once. The young lady and I will be taking a drive in Hyde Park.”