Notorious (15 page)

“Ah…” With the astonishing tenderness that he could show he kissed her, gently this time, as though drawing the soul from her body. When he let her go they were both trembling. He brushed the hair back from her brow and his fingers were cool against her cheek. “Once we belonged to each other, Susanna,” he said. “And for this one night we can do so again.”

It was that thought that finally gave Susanna the strength to stop him. One night. Oh, yes, she could give herself to Devlin for one more night. It would be easy to plunge into that maelstrom of passion and forget everything in the bliss of Devlin’s possession.
But in a few short hours he would be gone—she would have lost him again—and she would hate herself for weakening. The pleasure would be gone but the heartbreak would remain. She had told herself that never again would she risk loving and losing. She could not falter now or she would indeed have lost.

“No!” She tore herself away from him, grabbing the sheet to cover her nakedness, wrapping it about herself with shaking hands. “No,” she said again. She backed away from the bed, feeling her legs tremble, fearing she might fall. “This is not right, Devlin. We have to stop.”

Dev rolled over and sat up. For a moment he looked completely dazed, as lost in sensation as she herself had been but a second before. Then he shook his head as though to clear it. His gaze came up and focused on her and Susanna was astounded to see that there was amusement in it.

“You do have the most frustrating sense of timing,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry,” Susanna said. She caught the arm of a chair and sank down into it gratefully. “I did not mean deliberately to tease you—”

“I know.” Dev bit out the words, his physical frustration all too visible. He caught her gaze, looked down ruefully and shook his head again. “You would be faithful to Fitz,” he said, “when you want him only for his title and even now he is probably screwing some Covent Garden whore?”

The brutality of his words made Susanna wince. Dev thought that her engagement to Fitz was genuine, of course, when she knew it was a sham. But that did not change the principle that was at stake.

“I believe in fidelity,” she said steadily.

She saw the incredulity in Dev’s eyes. He pushed the hair back from his forehead in an impatient gesture. “Am I supposed to believe that?” he said.

It hurt that he did not but Susanna had expected no less. “What about you?” she challenged. “Could you say you have always been faithful to the woman you are with?”

Dev’s expression went blank. “Until that night with you…” He stopped, spoke slowly. “I had never once been unfaithful to Emma in two years.”

Now it was Susanna’s turn to feel shock. Yet she did not. The James Devlin she had known, for all his rakish ways, had had an honor and an integrity that had always guided his actions. It was one of the reasons why she had loved him.

“Then you must see,” she said quietly, “why this has to end, Devlin.”

Dev did not answer immediately. Instead he came across to the chair and drew her gently to her feet. For a second his cheek rested against hers, his stubble rough against the smoothness of her skin.

“Goddamn it, Susanna…” he said. He sounded shaken, regretful.

Susanna placed a hand on his chest. “You know
it, Devlin. You are a better man than this. Prove it by finishing this now.”

As soon as she touched him she felt Dev go still, all but the pounding of his heart beneath her hand. There was puzzlement and a dawning awareness in eyes. All provocation and pretense between them dropped away and nothing but the truth remained. The moment spun out between them as delicate as gossamer, then Dev put his hand over hers where it rested against his heart.

“Thank you,” he said. He shook his head slightly. There was puzzlement and some other emotion in his eyes now. “You are a surprising woman, Susanna,” he said slowly.

“You have no idea,” Susanna said with feeling.

Dev gave her a smile that was for once devoid of all mockery, then he stepped back and Susanna felt as cold and alone as she had ever done before in her life.

Dev picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. He walked toward the door.

“The balcony!” Susanna said. “You leave as you arrived.”

Dev pulled a face. “I might damage myself.”

Susanna blocked his path to the door. “You will have to take that risk,” she said. “I’d rather you damaged your health than my reputation.”

Dev gave her one final dazzling smile that set her pulse awry again. “Good night then, Lady Carew,” he said. “Good luck.”

Another second and he had vaulted over the balcony and was gone. Susanna caught her breath on a gasp of shock and horror. When she had suggested he leave the way he had arrived she had assumed he would climb down to the ground rather than leap recklessly from a first-floor window. She ran across to the balcony, peering over the balustrade. The first light of dawn was breaking across the sky in streaks of pink and gold, and by its light she could see Dev standing in the garden below, completely unhurt, dusting down his jacket. He glanced up and caught her watching. She saw his teeth gleam as he smiled.

“I knew you would have to make sure I was safe,” he said.

“Damn you,” Susanna said, furious at having proved him right.

He laughed. “Sweet dreams.”

Susanna closed the doors quietly and drew the drapes, then went to sit down on the edge of her bed. She was still trembling a little. She knew she had done the right thing in sending Dev away. She knew he knew it, too. Yet now she felt more empty and alone than she had ever done in her life before.

She wrapped her arms about herself for comfort, even though the night was warm. Devlin. Her husband. There was so much more that he did not know, so much that he could never know. She shivered. If she could keep her secrets, keep the moneylenders away and keep everything safe then soon she could buy the annulment and run away, away to a new
life. She only had to hold on a little longer. Then she would never see James Devlin again and that was the right thing, the only thing to do, because she had lost so much and she knew that to lose love again would utterly destroy her.

“Y
OU’RE EARLY
,” A
LEX
Grant said, putting aside his newspaper as the butler ushered Dev into the breakfast room at Bedford Street. He eyed his cousin’s evening dress. “Or is it that you have not yet been to bed?”

“The latter,” Dev agreed. He accepted gratefully the cup of coffee Alex poured and pushed in his direction. “No need for that look,” he added dryly. “It was not that sort of a night.”

Alex raised a brow. “I make no judgments,” he said mildly.

Dev shrugged moodily. He could feel his cousin watching him and knew that in a moment Alex would put his finger on the precise problem that troubled him because his cousin had always been able to read him like a book. It had been damnably awkward when he had been young and Alex had been his guardian, as well. He had never been able to get away with anything. The nine years seniority Alex possessed had always given him the edge. Added to that, Alex had been a famous explorer, a hero, and Dev had wanted nothing more than to follow in his
footsteps and please him. That sensation still lingered, even in adulthood.

“You look,” Alex said after a moment, his dark eyes grave, “like a man who wishes he had spent the night in uninhibited dissipation, knows it would have been the wrong thing to do but still regrets that it did not happen.”

Dev gave a reluctant crack of laughter. “I have to hand it to you, Alex, you know me far too well.” He looked around to check that the door was tightly shut. “I take it that the ladies will not be joining us?”

Alex glanced at the clock on the mantel. “At seven-thirty? Do you know nothing of women after all?” A smile twisted his lips. “You are quite safe, Devlin. Though if you are about to talk scandal I imagine Joanna will be disappointed to have missed it.”

Dev took a mouthful of the strong coffee and slid down more comfortably in his chair.

“There is a woman,” he admitted. He did not know why he was telling Alex this. He had had no intention of talking about Susanna when he had come here.

Alex nodded. “I knew there would be, sooner or later.” He raised a hand to stop Dev’s instinctive protest. “I apologize. I did not mean to imply that I thought you would be unfaithful to your fiancée. Merely—” he stopped, toyed with his cup “—that when one chooses to marry without love there is a danger that one will then fall in love with someone else.”

“I’m not in love,” Dev said automatically. He did not love Susanna. He could not. He had been burned too harshly on that bright particular star before to fall again. But he could not deny the need he had for her nor the compelling tie that bound them so tightly. He felt his body stir, shifted uncomfortably and wondered if he would ever be free of the fierce desire she could arouse in him.

Alex smiled. “Then forgive me again,” he said, “but whoever this woman is, you have feelings for her that are far stronger than any emotion you have ever felt for Lady Emma.”

That, Dev thought ruefully, was true. He had admired Emma for her beauty and wanted her for her money and felt nothing more for her than that. It was an empty bargain he had offered her and it was unworthy of both of them.

He sat forward. “I didn’t come here to discuss my romantic difficulties,” he said. “I wanted to ask for your help.” He paused. “I had a rather large favor to ask, actually.”

“Ask then,” Alex said mildly.

“I am going to petition the Admiralty to restore my Navy commission,” Dev said. He looked up. “I was hoping that you would support my case, Alex.”

Alex almost choked on his coffee. “Devlin,” he said, “you sold your commission to finance a treasure-hunting trip to Mexico. I doubt that the Lords of the Admiralty will look kindly on you after that.” He placed his cup gently back in its saucer.
“Then there was the chandelier on the mainmast, the pearl earring, the deflowering of the Admiral’s daughter, and the incident where we boarded Hallows frigate in the Arctic…” He stopped and shook his head. “Are you mad to even consider it?”

“I was not the first with the Admiral’s daughter,” Dev said.

“That,” Alex said dryly, “is precisely what the Admiral did not want to accept.”

“They took you back after the incident with Hallows’ frigate,” Dev said. “And then they refused to court martial you after you helped Ethan Ryder escape capture.”

“That was an accident,” Alex said smoothly. “The Admiralty accepted that I had tripped and accidentally hindered the guard who was trying to shoot him.”

Dev snorted. “Balderdash. And the incident with Hallows?”

“I argued that I was under the influence of extreme passion. I was trying to reclaim my wife.”

“They bought that?” Dev asked derisively.

“It was true,” Alex said. His voice changed. “I would have done anything to get Joanna back.” He sighed sharply. “Why do you want to go back to sea, Devlin?”

Dev thought of what Susanna had said to him a few brief hours before. Her words had only confirmed the thoughts that had plagued him for weeks; that he was bored, that he was wasting his life; that
he was a better man than this idle fortune hunter he had become. He knew Susanna had been talking about fidelity and honor but what she had said applied equally to his whole life. He could no longer sit around waiting upon Emma’s whim simply because he wanted wealth and status. When he had first gone to sea he had earned his money and his fame. The sea had been a demanding mistress and he had answered her call. Now he knew he had to go back.

He had Susanna to thank for that revelation. It was Susanna who had challenged him to be a better man and made him face the truth. She had given him back his self-respect. She had shown him the way. For a moment he felt a profound gratitude and an equally powerful sense of loss. He would never have imagined that Susanna could give him something so precious. She had shown strength of character he would never have believed in, principle that seemed in stark contrast to her behavior. He tasted bitterness. He should try to stop thinking about Susanna. She would be Marchioness of Alton soon and the further away from her he was the better. A ship on the other side of the world would be as good a place as any.

He realized that Alex was still waiting.

“There are lots of reasons,” he said. “I grow tired of playing the lapdog to Emma’s demands. I am wasting my life.”

A faint smile touched Alex’s lips. “I thought that
you wanted money and a place in society,” he murmured.

“I do,” Dev said, “but the price is too high.”

“Lady Emma may not wish to be wed to the oldest lieutenant in the Navy,” Alex said dryly, “for you may be sure that in the unlikely event of them offering you another commission, Devlin, they will make you start from the bottom again in order to punish you.”

“I’ll still get to be an admiral one day,” Dev said with a grin. “You know I can do it.” His smile faded. “Besides, Emma will not like any of the things I am going to tell her. It is best that I accept our betrothal will be over.”

Alex refilled his coffee cup and pushed the pot toward his cousin. “Once again I am tempted to ask if you are mad,” he said. “Your debts must run in to thousands. If Lady Emma breaks off your engagement the moneylenders will foreclose and you will be ruined.”

“I know,” Dev said. He looked up and met his cousin’s eyes very seriously. “I can make it work,” he said, “if I get the commission, and have a regular income and win some prize money I will pay it all off—” He broke off. “I have to get my self-respect back, Alex,” he said suddenly, fiercely. “I hate what I have become. The only way to redeem myself in my own eyes is to go back to sea.”

Alex laughed suddenly. “Damn it, Devlin,” he said, “it’s madness to throw away all your advan
tages, but I admire you for it. For too long you’ve wasted your time and I have grieved to see you do it.” He paused. “There is only one other matter that concerns me. Chessie.”

“Yes,” Dev said. He grimaced. “I am only too well aware that I am in your debt, Alex. You give Chessie a home and you have promised her a dowry and that should be my role—” He stopped as Alex raised a hand.

“I was Chessie’s guardian as well as yours,” Alex said, “and for too long I was absent from your lives and you had to fend for yourself. You did plenty then, Devlin, to protect your sister. Allow me to do something now to ease my guilt a little.” A frown touched his brow. “For a while I thought Chessie might make a match of it with Fitzwilliam Alton,” he added, “but it seems not?”

“No,” Dev said. “Alton is to marry Lady Carew. The announcement of their betrothal will be made today.” He put his coffee down abruptly. It was cold now and tasted too strong and bitter on the tongue.

“A pity,” Alex said. “Chessie genuinely loves him. She seems very unhappy. Joanna commented on it to me only a few days ago.”

“Fitz is not good enough for her,” Dev said shortly. “I thought it would be a good match but I was mistaken.”

“Money and status again,” Alex said. He stretched, throwing down his napkin on the table. “Ah, well, so the mysterious widow catches the marquis. You
know, when I saw her I had the oddest feeling we had met before.”

“I doubt it,” Dev said, even more shortly. “I do not believe she has visited London before.” He did not understand why he was protecting Susanna but some stubborn impulse nevertheless prompted him to keep her secrets. He was not going to tell his cousin that Alex had known Susanna when she had been the Balvenie schoolmaster’s niece.

“She is from Scotland, though, is she not?” Alex said. “I thought, perhaps—”

“Excuse me,” Dev said, standing up. “I need to go to the Admiralty and then I must call on Emma and acquaint her with my plans. Thank you for the coffee, Alex. And the advice.”

“My pleasure,” Alex said. He stood up and shook Dev’s hand. “Good luck, Devlin,” he said. “I will write in support of your application. It takes courage to do what you are doing,” Alex added, clapping Dev on the back. “You deserve it to go well for you.”

“Thank you,” Dev said. He went out into the summer sunlight. There was a fresh breeze and a bright blue sky overhead. It was the sort of day to be on the prow of a ship.

A newsboy pressed a sheet into his hand and Dev glanced down absentmindedly. There was a lurid cartoon of a half-naked woman with long black hair sitting astride a ducal coronet whilst in the background a man recognizable as Fitzwilliam Alton was counting out bags of money with an equally lascivi
ous expression on his face. “Money sells itself for a title,” the caption read.

For a moment Dev felt such a blinding rage that he froze where he stood. To see Susanna displayed in such an appallingly blatant and disrespectful fashion was sickening and filled him with violence. Then, with a cold shudder, he remembered that this was what she had wanted, to catch a title, to secure her future. Until very recently it was what he had wanted, too. This, then, was the price one paid.

He crumpled the scandal sheet in his hand so tightly that the corners cut his palm. Then he tossed it back to the newsboy and walked off without a word.

L
ADY
E
MMA
B
ROOKE WAS
in a bad mood. She tilted her parasol to block out the dazzling sunlight sparkling on the water and drew her shawl closer about her to ward off the nonexistent chill of the breeze off the river. The fact that it was such a beautiful day made her feel sour. Her mother had forced her to rise early—at ten o’clock!—in order to attend a breakfast party at Crofton Cottage on the Thames. Emma had not wanted to go but unusually the Countess had overruled her. Now, two hours later, Emma was beyond bored and approaching utterly exasperated. She knew her parents wished her brother to marry the Duke and Duchess of Crofton’s daughter but she did not see why she had to put up with the witless girl, as well. Let Justin do his own wooing. She was
fed up, and she was done with men anyway—who needed them? First Devlin had proved a massive disappointment to her and then Tom Bradshaw had been full of empty promises.

After the encounter in the garden at midnight she had burned for the moment that she would see Tom again. She did not understand why. He was everything that she had been brought up to ignore: illegitimate, poor, a man who worked for a living. Yet none of that mattered to her because he had brought into her life an element that had been missing before, something new and different and exhilarating, and now that she had tasted it she wanted more.

She had looked for Tom’s tall figure everywhere, in the ballrooms of the ton, even though she knew he would never set foot there, in the shifting crowds in the Park where once she thought she had glimpsed him, on every street corner. Everyone had noticed her distraction. Her mother had commented that she had become withdrawn and had she taken a chill at the Cravens’ fête champêtre? Her father had rustled his newspaper irritably and said that he hoped she was not going to be so foolish as to go into a decline. He had said that perhaps they should bring forward her marriage to Devlin and when Emma had squeaked out a negative her parents had exchanged a long and meaningful glance. Later her mother had come to her and said very gently that if she had been having second thoughts about her betrothal that was perfectly acceptable and Devlin would understand
if she had changed her mind. He would release her from her promise like the gentleman he was not. But Emma was stubborn. She did not want to give up her property quite yet, not whilst she did not have something better to take its place. And it seemed she had made the right decision because for all his pledges to see her again, Tom had proved to be full of lies. He had simply been amusing himself at her expense. Emma felt a fool and she wished she could hate him for it yet oddly she could not, which made her even angrier.

Her mother was beckoning to her. It was time to leave. Thank goodness. The lemonade had been warm and the sandwiches were curling up in the sun and it was too ridiculously hot to sit outdoors. Emma trailed her mother, Lady Bell and the two Misses Bell down to the river, past flower beds full of rioting roses whose scent hung on the hot, heavy air. She could feel the sweat prickling the back of her neck and running down her spine. It was most unpleasant. And why they had to take one of those silly little riverboats rather than bringing the carriage was anyone’s guess.