Duke of Darkness (11 page)

Reeston entered with tea and biscuits. With a nod, the butler brought the tray around and placed the sweets on the table before he poured Alexandra a cupful. As the servant left the room, Devlin brought his eyes to Lexi where she surveyed the eligible bachelor list with amused interest.

“I suppose we should have a go at it, then. Read me a name and I’ll tell you what I know, but I warn you I haven’t been out to mix with society in a very long time. Phin keeps me abreast of the best tidbits, but I doubt news of that kind is information you seek. Although I would know a codger, a drunkard or a wastrel.” He offered her one of his rare smiles.

She tossed him one of her own, complete with dimple.

Damn, she was delightful.

“Well, there are ten men on the list.” She paused and skimmed the paper top to bottom with those incredible blue eyes, before she turned her attention where he stood by the mantel. “Number one says Lord Spens and in the next column Julia’s notation states he has very nice eyes.”

“Her list has columns? The devil you say! Don’t waste time in consideration of Lord Spens. He is a slotted spoon. No sooner does something go in then it comes back out.”

“Oh, Devlin, that’s terrible.”

Her melodic laughter filled the study and an unfamiliar ache tightened his chest. Still she continued to laugh and he increased the jest. “He has nice eyes, I suppose, because there is nothing in his head behind them. A bit like looking through a window.”

She let out a delicate snort and Devlin decided he liked their game. “Tell me name number two. Let’s face the storm head on, so to speak.”

She did her best to remain serious, but amusement danced in her voice when she next read aloud. “Viscount Alexander. Heavens, now that may be a problem.”

“You think so, hmm?” He found it difficult not to smirk at the suggestion. “I take it you don’t relish becoming Lady Alexandra Alexander?”

“Not at all. Do you think she put his name on the list to give me a giggle? It sounds like a tongue twister.”

Devlin cleared his throat. He’d like to show her some tongue twisting. “I wouldn’t know about Julia’s sense of humour. I don’t believe I’ve ever experienced it. Let’s keep going. I’m enjoying this.” He picked up a golf club and swung it casually back and forth aside his leg.

“Well, bachelor number three is noted to have very handsome features and a strong build. Lord Ellenborough.”

“This is progressing from bad to worse. No common sense, that young man, none at all.” He took an idle swing with his club and continued his discourse. “I’ve heard from the very best sources the man is as handsome as Adonis, but unable to empty a boot full of water when the instructions are written on the heel. Pity that. Such a waste.”

“You can’t be serious, Devlin. Is he truly that bad? Besides, how do you know? Who are these sources?”

He loved the way she grew animated within their playful repartee. And when she used his Christian name … so lovely on her lips, the hollow ache in his chest intensified. She was so beautiful, how could that single attribute never surface on their earlier lists?

“Servants, my dear. The very best sources are servants. Except at Kenley Manor. My servants do not gossip and I value them all.” He dropped the serious tone in a heartbeat and encouraged her to read the next name.

They ran through the list with expedience. Even though Julia noted interesting comments aside the names of the next five gentlemen, he shot them down with effective criticisms. Terms like spendthrift, horse-toothed and lecher brought tears of laughter to Lexi’s eyes and as he enjoyed their banter, a fresh, almost new again mood encompassed him.

“Well, there are only two names left. I’m afraid even to mention them.”

She was having such a good time he refused to stop it short. “Go ahead, I’m ready.” He’d long before put away his golf club and sat across from her now. What an enchanting treasure, his ward. He needed to force the latter word, as the relationship seemed awkward at best. One look at her explained his hesitation. Her pert little nose, those gorgeous blue eyes that twinkled in delight. He had to continually remind himself to look out the window or he feared he would pounce upon her in search of the flavour of her kiss.

“Lord Kirkhill? I suppose you will tell me he cures insomnia whenever he talks or perhaps has the pox?”

“No, actually. I’ve never heard of the man. Ever. Which speaks volumes, doesn’t it? Such a nondescript and boring fellow could never be deserving of you, Lexi.” He leaned forward and his elbows rested on his knees as he stared into the depths of her eyes. “You deserve someone who will treat you as if you are the only woman on this planet. As if the sun will not shine unless you allow it.”

An unsettling frisson of emotion passed between them and several long breaths followed. He forced himself to break the moment and leaned back, his arm outstretched across the back of the settee, his eyes once again out the window.

Her voice sounded breathy when she spoke again. “It says Lord Kirkhill is short with a long beard.”

The comedic notation returned levity to the room and they smiled at the preposterous description.

“I have never been fond of beards.”

She wrinkled her adorable nose with the comment.

He brought his palm up to rub his jaw line in an instinctive gesture. “Shall I have my valet remove mine?” He meant it as a jest, although it cloaked his desire to discover her answer.

“No.” Her immediate retort objected. “No. Absolutely not. On you …”

He noticed her hesitation, although it lasted less than a heartbeat.

“On you, it is most handsome, Devlin.”

He smiled again. That was twice today he’d let his guard down far enough to produce a genuine smile. What the hell had got into him? Whatever it was, he’d have to find a way to get it out with the same haste as it developed. He forced his attention back to the window. Again.

“The last name on the list is Phineas. I can’t believe she did it. If her brother knew he would skin her alive.”

Her giggle pulled him from his contemplations, although a scowl replaced his smile. Had Phin asked to be listed and then feigned a ready show against the idea? Was the thought irrational? Several unsettling questions rose to mind and a suspicious consideration of whether he needed to talk to Julia, Phineas, or both, eroded his better judgement and caused him to wonder of his friends’ intent.

Chapter Fourteen

Alexandra rose from her bed and donned a white lace wrapper, tying it with the satin ribbon before finding her slippers. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t sleep. No sooner did she close her eyes than an image of her dark, dangerous duke filtered into view.

Tonight, he’d behaved so differently, playful, clever and irresistible. As they advanced through the list of husband candidates, he’d dropped his guard. It was the first time he seemed comfortable around her.

And when he assisted with her golf stroke. A rush of warmth settled in the depth of her stomach. Every time she recalled his whispered instructions beside her ear, his firm hands atop her fingers, and his body nestled against her, she lost all coherent thought. A secret remembrance of his husky whisper caused pinpricks of excitement to dot her skin. How would it feel for him to whisper different instructions as his hands guided hers in ways of passion, his strong body crushed against her as they fell to the bed?

Alarmed by the path of her imagination, Alexandra picked up her brush and moved it with purpose through her hair. What was she thinking? He served as her guardian, not an instructor in sensual desire. He would see her married as soon as she expressed her intentions and then, he would continue to live his carefree life in the same fashion as before Aunt Min passed away.

Aunt Min. How wise of the older woman to insist Alexandra learn the game of golf. If not, she would never have experienced the warm imprint of Devlin’s body behind her own.

Foolish thought. She shook her head in reprimand and glanced at Henry asleep in his little bed of blankets. Perhaps a book could banish the decadent and indecent images of Devlin from her mind. The Fenhurst ball approached and unless she spent a few hours asleep, the dark smudges under her eyes would match the midnight blue of her chosen gown.

On slippered feet, Alexandra slipped from her rooms and tiptoed down the hallway, turning into the main foyer. She descended the stairs and paused when she spotted Reeston lighting a small candelabra in the foyer. He gave his attention to the silver salver next, littered with an abundance of invitations and correspondence, gathering them together in a neat, tidy pile.

“What are you doing?” The question escaped before she thought the better of it. From where she stood on the bottom step, she could see the envelopes remained unopened, their wax seals perfectly formed.

“Lady Alexandra, I did not know you were up and about. It is rather late, is it not?” Both participants glanced to the mahogany grandfather clock as stoic as Reeston in the front foyer.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Her gaze shifted to the pile of ivory envelopes clasped tightly in the butler’s grasp. “I thought to choose a book from the library.” But then, too curious to let the subject drop, “Isn’t it late to be sorting correspondence?”

Reeston’s expression never wavered. “I was not sorting, milady, but discarding.”

He didn’t offer more and etiquette dictated she allow the matter to drop, but it was late, and she couldn’t sleep, and so much remained a mystery in her odd new residence.

“But they are unopened. Doesn’t His Grace wish to read them?” Her voice rose higher in question.

Reeston tightened his hold on the bundle as if concerned she would pluck something from the pile.

“I’ve removed anything of importance, milady. These are invitations and social calls. His Grace does not mix with society.”

Convinced he offered a logical reply, Reeston turned to leave the foyer, the pile secured in his grasp, but the inconceivable notion that Devlin rarely left the house caused Alexandra to stay him with a hand on his sleeve.

“I don’t understand. If he receives so many invitations, his company must be desired by the ton?” If her persistence struck him as invidious, he did not indicate.

“Perhaps it is desired for the wrong reasons.” Reeston donned a tolerant expression and fell silent, not apt to offer more in way of explanation.

Cook always reacted in the same manner to her questioning. Her impatience could not be faulted. “But surely that can’t be true. In two days we will attend the Fenhurst social. Lady Fenhurst planned a small gathering, but from what I understand, there will be a large crush.” Her brow furrowed in consternation as she implored him to offer the sparsest scrap. “Please, Reeston.”

He hesitated for several loud ticks of the grandfather clock before he exhaled with the same dignity he employed in all his actions. “It will cost him much to attend.” He cleared his throat, a tad discomfited. “But His Grace has made an exception on your behalf.”

The odd explanation did little to appease her curiosity. She opened her mouth to continue, but lost the notion, forestalled by Reeston’s pointed stare.

“Perhaps you might discuss this matter with His Grace directly.”

And there it was, she’d overstepped her bounds and made Reeston uncomfortable.

She offered him a sheepish grin. “I apologize. I never meant to put you in a difficult position. Perhaps I will get that book now. I don’t suppose …”

Her voice trailed off in hope he would supply the answer she sought.

“His Grace is not in house at the moment. He planned to move King into the stables and allow Henry a bit of peace. It is likely once there, he decided to take Orion for a ride.”

She whipped her head around, a wave of blond hair falling over her shoulders with the motion. “A ride? It’s black as pitch outside and nearing midnight.”

Again they glanced to the clock as it marked time in the silent hall, but Reeston did little more than confirm her statement.

“That is true, milady.” Then, perhaps he noted her continued distress. “Orion knows his master’s habits well and His Grace is an excellent horseman. His Grace enjoys rigorous exercise and is often only free to pursue such at a late hour after his ducal responsibilities are met during the day.”

Alexandra considered the explanation. Devlin didn’t look busy with affairs of state. But then, who was she to say? She had resided at Kenley Manor only a short time.

“Thank you. I hope that was not too painful.” His demeanour softened and his mouth showed the slightest of smiles. She squeezed his sleeve in a gentle touch and proceeded down the hall to the library.

Candles illuminated the room and a fire blazed in the grate. The bookshelves lining the walls offered an abundance of literature in every subject. She selected a book of sonnets and tucked it into the pocket of her wrapper. Reluctant to return to the seclusion of her bedchamber, her eyes skimmed over the furniture, noting the masculine décor until they came to rest on Devlin’s waistcoat flung haphazardly over the chair to his desk. She hesitated, then strolled to his desk. A ripple of trepidation skittered through her, chased by a sound chastisement. It was merely a piece of clothing, nothing more, yet she hemmed her bottom lip with indecision as she gathered the waistcoat from the chair and held it against her heart. Later when she returned to her bedchamber and reflected on the foolish action, she would laugh at her timidity. But truly, as she held the garment close, overwhelming emotion flooded her, and her heart pounded a heavy rhythm.

The black waistcoat was a representation of the man who wore it well. Impeccably, really. His broad shoulders filled it to perfection, the strong chest that narrowed to a trim waist. She pulled the coat close to her cheek and closed her eyes as she inhaled his masculine scent. Spicy, male and undeniably invigorating. She’d noticed it all too much when his body shadowed hers during the golf lesson. The reaction of her body held against his strength flittered elusively beyond her understanding. When he aligned against her, every pinnacle of her being awakened and her senses sharpened with an acuity she’d never experienced.