The Virgin Huntress (The Devil DeVere #2)(13)

Hew’s face instantly suffused with heat. “I would expect that to follow.”

“There you are wrong, dear Hew. Affection may spring from mutual respect, but passion can never be willed. It just is.” She added softly, “Sometimes whether we desire it or not.”

“It’s my brother, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Her retort was quick, too quick.

“I know about the leasehold, but the rest was mere speculation until the dispatch. Don’t deny it, Diana. Your reaction to his missive betrayed you, and your disquiet disturbs me.”

“As you well know, my husband’s death occurred at your brother’s estate. It was all a most unpleasant episode that I have no desire to resurrect.”

“Please know it is not my desire to further unsettle you, yet as a gentleman, there is one more thing I must ask—did my brother, Lord DeVere, at any time importune you?”

He could almost see her hackles rise. She answered tersely, “There is nothing between me and Lord DeVere.”

Her too carefully worded reply and is as opposed to was confirmed his suspicions. “Pray pardon my impertinence, my lady.”

“Hew, you are all that is good and honorable. You have my greatest respect and admiration, but I have no wish to wed. I would never do so again unless I could give my heart. I cannot. And you deserve much more.”

“That is your final word?”

“I’m a woman who knows my own mind.”

Hew couldn’t deny his disappointment. Diana was all that one could want in a wife, beautiful, intelligent, and poised. They understood one another and no doubt would have rubbed along well, yet he was surprised by what he didn’t feel—crushed. “Very well then,” he said with a fleeting smile. “We will speak no more of it.”

***

“Pratt!” Lord DeVere ran his head groom to ground upon his return. “I wish to know all about this misadventure in Hyde Park with Lady Vesta Chambers.”

The groom studied the toe of his boot with a crimson flush. “Cap’n Hew told you about that, eh?”

“Damned right he did!” DeVere thundered. “Why didn’t you apprise me of the incident? Did I not put the girl under your protection?”

“That ye did, my lord.” The groom’s shoulders slumped.

“Then how the devil did you let a horse get away with her?” DeVere demanded.

“Wi’ all due respect, my lord, ‘tweren’t no accident.”

“The devil you say!”

“Aye, my lord. There be no devil like a she-devil.”

DeVere gave his groom a piercing look. “And what does that mean?”

“’Tweren’t quite what the cap’n and my lady thinks.”

DeVere felt his temper subside. “Talk to me, Pratt. What really happened?”

“Well, when we rode to the park, to my mind the wee miss was in a fit of pique, hot as her little mare she was that Cap’n be fawning all over my lady.”

“Was she, indeed?”

“Aye, my lord, a wee rogue wrapped in a pretty package is that one. I begin to think sommat amiss when she lost her hat. The cap’n and my lady was riding ahead, so they didn’t see when she asked me to fetch it for her. T’weren’t really the hat what spooked the horse, as the hat were already on the ground. After I dismounted, I seen the miss throw away her reins and spur the horse.”

“Preposterous! That’s damned reckless, dangerous, and altogether absurd!”

“That may be, my lord.” The groom laid a hand on his heart. “But ‘tis also God’s honest truth.”

“You mean the little wretch endangered her own life in a fit of jealous pique?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“You knew this and failed to expose her fraud?”

Pratt regarded his master with a plaintive look. “Ye should have seen the little vixen! ‘Twere some ‘o the best ridin’ I ever seen. There be few men with the bollocks to do what she done. Mayhap Cap’n Hew be one o’ the few. So ye understand, my lord, I hadn’t the heart to peach her.”

“So you say the entire escapade was just a fit of passion because Hew was making up to the baroness?”

“Aye. That be the way I seen it.” Pratt nervously twisted his cap while he awaited the master’s verdict. “Your pardon for the breach o’ trust, my lord?”

“Don’t get into a lather, Pratt. I’m not about to dismiss you,” DeVere said. “Indeed, I have a more fitting punishment in mind.”

“How’s that, my lord?” asked the worried groom.

“Given that you’re already complicit with the scheming little baggage, I intend to put you completely at her disposal. From this moment on, Pratt, you are to answer solely to Lady Vesta. Not the baroness. Not Captain Hew. Whatever the girl’s whim is to be your command. Without question. Without hesitation. This injunction is to be superseded by no one but myself. Do you understand me, Pratt?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Shameless little hussy.” DeVere chuckled under his breath as he departed his stables, his former black mood utterly forgotten.





CHAPTER SEVEN




“Vesta!” Her godmother nearly ran to her when she entered the vestibule. “Where on earth have you been?” She clasped the girl’s shoulders with a stern reproach. “Don’t you know we were worried sick about you?”