The Virgin Huntress (The Devil DeVere #2)(6)

Although they wore the traditional scarlet coats of the British army, their uniforms were unusual and distinct from any others she had ever seen, with brilliant white breeches, shiny black knee boots, and helmets of black leather crested with scarlet horsehair. Most notable was the troop’s guidon, with the ominous-looking skull and crossbones on a crimson background with Or Glory stamped underneath.

“The colors? What do they mean?” she asked Pratt.

“Death or Glory is the motto of the Seventeenth Light Dragoons,” answered Pratt. “That there be Captain Hew’s troop,” he added with obvious pride.

“Captain Hew?”

“Aye, his lordship’s brother returned six months ago from the Americas. That be him at the head, miss. A war hero and capital horseman is Captain Hew.”

She watched the captain, transfixed on his broad, rigid back and powerful shoulders emphasized by the silver epaulettes. “He is, indeed, quite a horseman,” Vesta gushed. In her many years of fox hunting and attending race matches, she had never seen such an impressive or awe-inspiring display of equestrian prowess. The longer she observed the perfectly balanced horseman’s seat and his authoritative bearing, the more effort it was to regulate both her breathing and her fluttering heart, for Captain Hewett DeVere was truly the most magnificent sight she had ever seen.

***

“You have a visitor, madam.” Jenkins presented Diana a card on a silver salver.

“Do I, indeed? But it is unusually early in the day for social calls.” Diana took up the card with a frown. “Captain Hewett DeVere?”

“Yes, my lady. He awaits in the withdrawing room. Are you at home?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Is he alone or accompanied?”

“He has come quite alone, madam.”

She slowly released the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. “Then pray convey that I will be with him shortly, and then tell Polly to send Vesta down as soon as she is made presentable.”

Diana performed a brief but critical inspection in the mirror, pinned up an errant curl, and smoothed her gown before descending to greet her gentleman caller.

He turned from the window when she entered, regarding her first with a look of surprise and then with a charming smile full of white, even teeth that drew attention from the deep scar on the right side of his face, now marring his once boyishly handsome features. When he strode toward her, she also noticed his uneven gait.

He bowed and took her hand in both of his. “Baroness,” he said. “I am stunned. Ned said a female relation would chaperone Vesta, but I had no idea it was you!”

“It is because I asked Edward not to name me. To avoid awkwardness, you see.”

“You refer to my brother?”

“Indeed, captain. I truly should like to avoid his company. It would only conjure unpleasant memories.”

“But he is Vesta’s godfather and cannot shirk his duty.”

“Mayhap you can stand in for him?” she suggested.

“It would be my great honor to do so, but surely you don’t hold Ludovic to blame for your husband’s—”

“No, but there was so much that occurred,” she answered vaguely. “I only wish to keep it all in the past.”

“I am sure he will respect your wishes as much as is possible, but meeting again is an inevitability now that you are both in town.”

“La! I think not, captain. For your brother and I surely dwell in vastly different circles. His reputation for debauchery extends even as far as Yorkshire.”

It was Hew’s turn to flush. “He is not as black as he is often painted.”

“So I am told.” She forced a smile. “Perhaps you are a redeeming influence?”

“I can only wish,” he replied.

“I suppose you are right.” Diana sighed. “If he were to take it upon himself to call, it would be discourteous of me to turn him away, but I beg that you would do all possible to discourage him from doing so.”

“And if you should otherwise meet?”

She gave a noncommittal smile. “Then I will deal with that eventuality as the occasion warrants.”

“You are all that is gracious, my lady, and as lovely as I recall.” Diana felt heat tinge her face. He still hadn’t released her hand, and then he raised it unexpectedly to his mouth, brushing it softly with his lips. “Our past acquaintance was cut short by tragedy. I can only hope you will allow me to renew it.” He studied her for a long, questioning moment.

Diana had seen that look before, but while Hew, even scarred, was a handsome man with commanding self-possession, his deep-blue gaze seemed a pale imitation of his brother’s by comparison. She hastily shook off the thoroughly unsettling image of Ludovic DeVere. She also retrieved her hand.

“I thank you for calling, captain. I am only sorry you did not have the opportunity to meet Vesta. She is a truly lovely girl.”

***

Vesta returned home feeling as if she floated on air. While denied the energetic ride she was accustomed to, she still felt as exhilarated as if she had galloped the whole of Doncaster heath. She had come to London to begin looking for a husband, only to find the first eligible male she encountered was the man of her dreams. Captain Hewett DeVere was handsome, dashing, brave, and sat a horse like a centaur. He was also brother of her own godfather! In sum, her ideal of masculine perfection. Now, the only obstacles remaining were the acquisition of a replacement wardrobe and an introduction.