Chapter 3
“Is the company too juvenile for your liking, my lord?”
There was no mistaking the mockery in Alys’s tone, but Devil chose not to respond to it as he glanced across the library to see her standing in the open doorway. He would not respond yet, at least. Obviously Alys was choosing not to heed his warning of earlier regarding curbing the sharpness of her tongue.
He could think of a far better use for that hot, wet organ than to have her mock him with it.
It had come as a surprise to realize Alys was the only woman present at Newcomb Manor. Usually the gentlemen would bring their wives with them to a summer shoot such as this one, and those ladies would entertain themselves during the day until the gentlemen returned to the house. All of Newcomb’s friends were young and unmarried, and the evening’s entertainment reflected that company.
Devil saw no reason to join in the competitive game of billiards which had ensued after dinner, and had instead made himself comfortable in the library with a decanter of Newcomb’s third-rate brandy and a good book.
Alys had now appeared and disturbed his relaxation. She was looking particularly desirable this evening in a gown of deep purple, and Devil could once again feel the rush of blood to his cock merely from looking at her and breathing in the heady combination of her perfume and feminine musk.
He closed and placed the book on the table beside his chair before rising to his feet. “No more so than you do, obviously,” he drawled as he crossed the room toward her. Like a bloody moth drawn to the burn of a candle’s flame, he acknowledged self-disgustedly.
In truth, Alys had been relieved to excuse herself from joining the raucous company in the billiards room. Teddy’s friends had imbibed freely of the wine during dinner and become overly familiar as the evening progressed. Alys had been more than happy to excuse herself once the gentlemen retired to the games room to play billiards and drink brandy.
She had assumed, after noting his absence immediately following dinner, Deveril had retired to his bedchamber for the night. She doubted he had any more interest in the younger men’s company than she did, if for different reasons. Having come to the library to collect a book she might take to her bedchamber to read before sleeping, it was unnerving to find Deveril seated beside the unlit fireplace, and once again causing her to behave shrewishly.
Damn the man.
Dressed all in black, with snowy white linen, his dark eyes glittering the color of jet, Deveril really did have the appearance of the devil incarnate.
“Join me.”
Alys blinked at the unmistakable command she heard in his tone. “I am on my way to bed.”
He gave a hard smile, revealing very straight and white teeth. “In that case, perhaps I should join you?”
She felt the color warming her cheeks.
There was much speculation among the ladies of Society in regard to Deveril’s exploits in the bedchamber. Alys tried to avoid such conversations whenever possible but was not always able to do so.
It seemed the marquis’s bed play did not include the ladies of Society, so none of those ladies spoke on the subject from personal experience. But apparently it was well known that he and his fellow Sinners—Deveril and the seven other gentlemen who had met while at school together and continued that friendship into adulthood—enjoyed robust and varied sexual relations with ladies of the demimonde.
Which indicated what in regard to Deveril’s having turned her own innocent comment into innuendo?
Alys drew herself up to her full height of four inches and five feet. “My remark was a statement, not an invitation,” she snapped her displeasure.
“Pity,” he drawled.
The heat in her cheeks was now caused by temper. “Do not attempt to play your flirtatious games with me, Dev—” Her scathing words came to an abrupt halt as she once again found herself held captive by the marquis’s fingers curled tightly about one of her wrists as he pulled her fully into the library before closing the door and pushed her back against it. His much taller and masculine body loomed over her ominously.
Aware of his superior height and strength, Alys refused to give him the satisfaction of fighting him. It was utterly futile of her to try to escape this man’s hold if he did not wish to release her.
“I never play flirtatious games, Alys,” he grated softly. “I never play games at all, flirtatious or otherwise.”
Strangely, Alys felt more at risk alone here with him in the library than she had in his bedchamber earlier. Possibly because, aware of her brother’s warning of yesterday, she dare not call out for help for fear of causing a scandal Teddy would never forgive her for. “My lord—”
“Sebastian.”
Alys blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“My name is Sebastian.” It was also a name Devil rarely, if ever, used. His closest friends always called him Devil, his servants and the ladies of the demimonde addressed him as my lord, and everyone else called him Deveril. For some reason he could not fathom, he now wished to hear his given name on Alys’s lips. Preferably as she cried out in the ecstasy of a physical release he had just given her. “Say it,” he instructed harshly.
“I do not—”
“Say it!”
Her throat moved as she swallowed before speaking. “Sebastian.”
Devil was known for his arrogance and disdain, not the shortness of temper or the lack of control he was now displaying. But he had not enjoyed having to watch Alys during dinner as she charmed her brother’s guests with her pleasing manner and appearance in the purple gown. His temper and arousal were now such Devil felt the need to either kiss Alys again or put her over his knee and spank her.
As he had never physically chastised a woman in his life and had no intention of starting with Alys, it left only the one alternative. Besides, the kiss they had shared earlier had merely whetted his appetite for more.
“I am going to kiss you again,” he informed her challengingly.
A look of panic entered her eyes. “I wish you would not.”
His brows arched. “Why not?”
Alys gave a pained wince, knowing the true reason she did not want Deveril to kiss her was because she was afraid she might respond, as she had the last time. “We are at loggerheads, my lord.”
“You are at loggerheads, Alys. As you cannot help but be aware, I am in lust,” he murmured.
She was aware, could once again feel the hard and throbbing length of his cock pressing against her.
It caused a plumping and hardening of her nipples and that responsive heat between her thighs.
Alys might not be a married woman or have even come close to being one, but she was aged almost one and twenty and had several married friends. Her conversations with some of the more outspoken ones meant she was no longer innocent of the physical evidence of a man’s arousal.
Deveril—Sebastian—was very aroused.
He killed my father.
The marquis insisted he had not. He had made that claim three years ago, and had continued to do so ever since.
For the first time, Alys questioned whether or not he might be telling her the truth.
Teddy seemed convinced of it. And surely no man could be callous enough, after killing a woman’s father, to expect that same woman to now respond to his lovemaking.
But if Deveril had not killed her father, then who had?
There had been no one else in the house but the three of them and a handful of servants on the night her father died. Deveril had to have done it. He was merely proving what an absolute monster he truly was by now attempting to make love to the daughter of the man he had killed.
“Take your hands off me,” Alys instructed coldly.
Devil drew his breath in sharply at the disdain in Alys’s tone and demeanor. It was as effective in dampening his desire for her as an ice-cold swim in a lake might have been. He released her and stepped back, hands tightly clenched at his sides. “Go to your bedchamber,” he bit out harshly. “Now. Before I change my mind and do something we will no doubt both regret.”
He only began to breathe again, was able to think again, once Alys had fled the room.
The desire Devil still felt toward Alys, to the extent he seemed incapable of keeping his hands off her whenever the two of them were alone, was a complication he had not foreseen. And he should have done.
There had been no falling-out between them three years ago, only Alys’s conviction he had killed her father. A belief which had meant Devil could not remain in her life, even as a friend.
The attraction he had felt toward her then had obviously not lessened in the slightest. No doubt due to the fact Alys was now three years older and a mature and beautiful woman.
Whatever the reason, Devil was aware that his impartiality in regard to her being Napoleon’s spy was now even more in doubt.
“Where did you and Deveril get to last night?” Teddy prompted curiously as brother and sister enjoyed breakfast together the following morning; their guests were either still abed or had risen early and were out riding before going out for this morning’s shoot.
Alys was slightly unnerved by the question but managed to maintain a cool demeanor. “If you recall, I excused myself and went to my bedchamber after dinner. I had assumed the marquis was with you in the billiards room.” A stretching of the truth, but she had only spent a matter of minutes in the library with Seb—the marquis. What Deveril had done after she left him, she genuinely had no idea. “Perhaps he also retired to his bedchamber? He was no doubt tired after his days of travel.”
Her brother snorted. “Deveril is five and thirty not five and eighty!”
Alys’s gaze remained calm. “As I said, I have no idea what the marquis did after dinner.”
“Can’t have him growing bored and leaving.” Teddy frowned his displeasure at the idea. “Remember, you are the hostess, and I depend on you to help ensure all my guests are entertained. Even Deveril.”
“And how am I supposed to do that where the marquis is concerned?”
Her brother shrugged. “In whatever manner he sees fit.”
Alys was convinced her brother could not mean that as literally as it sounded. Because if Deveril had his way, she had no doubt the two of them would have spent the night together in his bed.
As she and Teddy would never agree on anything to do with the marquis, Alys did not wish to question her brother further as to his meaning. “What time will you be going shooting this morning, and will you be back in time for luncheon or require a picnic be brought out to you?”
Teddy glanced out of the window, where a typical fine summer rain was falling. “It is hardly the weather for a picnic. I doubt we shall be gone for more than a few hours. McHugh will have the beaters organized by ten o’clock.” He spoke of the Scottish manager of the Newcomb estate, and the man responsible for caring for and capturing the red grouse so prevalent in his own country. “Once we have shot a couple of dozen for our dinner, we shall return here for luncheon.”
Alys breathed an inward sigh of relief, both that she had successfully managed to deflect the conversation away from Deveril and that the servants would not be called upon to serve an open-air luncheon. She knew her brother enjoyed inviting his disreputable friends here for a shoot during the summer, but the few servants they had were already stretched to the limit, caring for the needs of so many guests.
She nodded. “I have almost finished my breakfast and shall speak to Cook directly.” At least the men would be returning with the main course for their dinner this evening.
“How are you really finding having Deveril here?” Teddy proved he had not forsaken the subject of the marquis after all.
Apart from the fact the man had pinned her up against a door, twice and kissed her once? Although, to be fair, she had kissed him back. Much to her self-disgust.
“Is it as awful as you thought it might be?” her brother persisted.
“Not as such, no,” Alys allowed cautiously in view of their previous conversation.
Teddy gave her hand a squeeze. “There, told you it wouldn’t be so bad having him here.”
Alys wouldn’t go quite that far. She was too aware of Deveril to be in the least comfortable in his company. And not only because she still believed him responsible for killing their father.
There was a constant frisson between the two of them now, of a sexual nature which Alys did not remember being present three years ago.
Possibly because she had only been seventeen and attending her first Season, and had no idea what the hardening of her nipples and the slick heat between her thighs actually indicated. Nor had Deveril ever been close enough to her then for her to become aware of the hardness between his thighs.
“I was always under the impression Deveril had an interest in you when he used to come here to visit Father,” Teddy added lightly.
Her brows rose. “What on earth do you mean?”
Her brother gave the subject some thought before answering. “His friendship with Father seemed to happen very suddenly, and I always thought Deveril showed you marked attention during the numerous weekends he spent here.”
Alys was completely nonplussed by the turn this conversation had taken. “As you said, he was a friend of Father’s,” she dismissed. “You imagined it if you thought the marquis ever showed any partiality toward me.”
Her brother eyed her speculatively. “You are almost one and twenty, Alys, and a beautiful woman rather than a child. Surely you must know how to go about enticing a man’s interest in you?”
She gave up any presence of finishing her breakfast. “Surely you are not suggesting I entice the marquis.”
“He would be a fine catch,” her brother mused.
“For me or for you? I apologize,” she said quickly as Teddy’s face darkened with anger at the accusation in her tone. “But is money really in such short supply you would think of marrying me off to someone so unsuitable merely because he is wealthy?”
“Why else does anyone marry?”
“Love?”
Teddy snorted. “Father spoiled you thoroughly if you really believe that.”
“Perhaps,” she allowed. “But Mama and Papa’s marriage was a love match.”
His mouth thinned. “Which is why our mother brought very little in the way of a dowry into the marriage.”
Alys bit back her defensive reply. “If you are so desperate for money, why do you not marry yourself?”
“I am not desperate,” Teddy snapped. “Besides I am far too young to think of marriage yet. Whereas you…” He left the sentence unfinished.
Nonetheless, Alys felt the deliberate stab of the barb. She had not quite reached the age of being on the shelf as yet, but she would be considered such in another year or so. Each Season, there were more new and beautiful debutantes aged seventeen and eighteen, so why would any gentleman wish to marry a woman who was almost four years older than that. Especially as it was obvious no other man had ever made an offer for her.
“It cannot have escaped your notice the marquis has reached that age of five and thirty without so far allowing any woman to catch him?” Alys spoke evenly. “Nor could I possibly allow myself to become involved with the man I believe responsible for—”
“Do not say those words again, Alys,” Teddy warned, his patience obviously wearing thin. “He was investigated and you must accept no reason for Deveril being guilty was ever found.”
Alys did not have to accept anything of the kind. Not when she had actually seen that man with the pistol in his hand and her father lying dead at his feet.
Nor did she have any intention of encouraging the marquis. His behavior so far showed he did not need any encouragement in order to attempt to take liberties.
And Teddy was also talking nonsense in regard to Deveril having been interested in her in the past. The marquis had not so much as attempted to kiss her three years ago. Much to her disappointment. Alys really had been deeply infatuated with him at the time.
“Alys…?”
She turned to find her brother eyeing her curiously. “My thoughts were on luncheon,” she dismissed brightly.
“If you say so,” Teddy drawled skeptically as he threw his napkin onto the table and rose to his feet. “I shall be outside talking to McHugh if you should— What is it?”
Alys turned to see Deveril’s valet standing in the doorway waiting to be noticed. Riley was a slender man of the marquis’s own age and seemed pleasant enough, considering who his employer was. Alys sincerely hoped he had not overheard any of the conversation between herself and her brother.
“The marquis asks to be excused from the shoot this morning, Sir Edward.” There was an attractive Irish burr to the valet’s voice. “He is indisposed.”
Alys instantly wondered if Deveril had been plagued by her father’s ghost during the night after all.
Teddy frowned his irritation. “Does he require a doctor be called?”
Alys perfectly understood her brother’s displeasure. A doctor would need paying, and as Teddy was the host, he would be the one to do the paying. His largesse in inviting so many friends to stay for the week was not indicative of the fact money had not been particularly abundant in the Newcomb family since the death of their father. Teddy did not possess the same business acumen as the older man, and he also tended to spend more each month than their budget allowed.
“I do not believe so, thank you,” Riley refused politely. “I have every confidence the marquis will feel well enough to join you for dinner this evening.”
The valet’s certainty of that seemed rather presumptuous to Alys. Unless the marquis was not ill at all but merely avoiding the company of his fellow guests. If that was the case, Alys again questioned why Deveril had come here at all.
Unlike Teddy, she certainly did not think it had anything to do with her.
“He did ask if Miss Newcomb would visit him later this morning if she has the time.” Riley looked at her questioningly.
“In his bedchamber?” Alys was too surprised at the request to hide the emotion.
The valet nodded. “If you please.”
No, she did not please. How dare Deveril—
“You really must ensure our guest is being cared for, Alys,” Teddy mused at her obviously shocked expression. “I am sure Deveril would appreciate it.”
Alys’s mouth tightened. “Do not be ridiculous,” she snapped, self-conscious that her brother should talk to her in this way in front of the marquis’s valet.
“Have a care, Alys. Father may have indulged you to speak freely but I do not hold with the same practice in regard to a woman,” Teddy warned softly, apparently feeling free to take umbrage at her using that tone to him in the presence of a third party.
As Deveril had taken offense twice already, and for the same reason. She really must cease behaving so shrewishly when she depended on her brother’s good will to keep so much as a roof over her head and be fed. But not enough to ever willingly encourage the attentions of the Marquis of Deveril. She would rather starve in the streets first.
She forced a smile as she turned to the valet. “Please relay my good wishes for a speedy recovery to the marquis,” she said smoothly. “Inform him I will be happy to check on his health as soon as my other duties about the house allow me the free time to do so.”
“Better,” Teddy bit out tersely before thankfully striding off in search of his estate manager.
Alys doubted he would think so if he knew she had no intention of finding the free time to visit the marquis at any time today.
Devil watched out the window as the party of men gathered outside in preparation for setting off on the shoot. He dare not chance leaving his bedchamber to go down the hallway to Alys’s rooms until the house had emptied of the other guests.
There were far too many of Newcomb’s friends staying in the house for the privacy and time Devil needed to search Alys’s private parlor and bedchamber without fear of being disturbed. Making his excuses in regard to joining the shoot this morning had seemed the only way he could guarantee there would be no one in the house for several hours but himself, Alys, and a handful of servants.
Knowing how much she seemed to like to thwart him, Devil had absolutely no doubt Alys would ensure she did everything else to fill her time this morning but visit him in his sickbed, and so allowing Devil to go and search her rooms undetected.
If Alys was the spy they were looking for, then surely there would be some evidence of it in one of her rooms. Letters, perhaps. Or even a map or two. Devil was looking for anything that might prove or disprove her involvement in another possible escape for Napoleon before he could be incarcerated a second time. It was Devil’s hope he’d be able to disprove it.
The small desk in her sitting room revealed only some private letters from friends and two unpaid bills, the latter not for vast amounts, but a pound or two to a seamstress and pennies to a haberdashery.
There was no doubting Alys’s situation had changed greatly since Devil was last here. Then, she had been the pampered and beloved daughter of Sir Peter Newcomb, with so many gowns Devil had never seen her wearing the same one twice during all his visits here.
As the spinster sister of Sir Teddy Newcomb, Alys was no longer indulged but instead forced to act as hostess to her brother’s motley collection of friends, who were as much wastrels as Teddy was, and Devil, the man she believed had killed her father.
Alys’s private parlor and bedchamber reflected that change in circumstances. The rooms were shabby to say the least, the furnishings faded, unlike the bedchamber Devil currently occupied, which had rich mahogany furniture and velvet curtains at the windows and about the four-poster bed. Teddy Newcomb’s bedchamber, if he was not mistaken.
There were fewer than a dozen gowns hanging in Alys’s wardrobe, a mixture of day and evening wear. They had obviously been altered and restyled several times to fit in with the year’s fashion. Which was no doubt the reason for the seamstress’s bill. Alys’s breasts were much fuller now, so much so Devil seriously doubted any of her previous abundance of gowns could have been altered enough for her to continue wearing them.
Shoes were lined up neatly on the floor beneath but appeared far from new. The drawer containing her undergarments was also less than full, and some of her chemises looked as if they would no longer fit comfortably across those ample breasts either.
Damn it, if Alys were his, Devil would—
Alys was not his, he reminded himself firmly. Nor would she ever be. The most he could ever hope for was he might one day be able to persuade her into believing him when he said he was not guilty of murdering her father.
Devil firmly reminded himself he was here to search for anything that might prove Alys’s innocence of treason, not to take note of how her life had changed since her father died, and not for the better.
But there was one positive note to her change of circumstances. If she was a paid spy working for Napoleon, then she would surely have had the wherewithal to buy herself as many new gowns and other fashionable fripperies as she wished.
Or she may not want to draw attention to herself by doing so. Her brother would know how much allowance he gave her, and for her to suddenly—
“What are you doing in my bedchamber?”
Devil closed his eyes briefly before turning slowly to face an obviously deeply shocked Alys.
Alys could not believe Deveril was in her bedchamber. It was—well, it was—
“What do you think I am doing here?”
Alys’s shocked mind drew a complete blank. “I have absolutely no idea.”
“No?” He quirked a dark brow as he walked slowly toward her.
A predator. Stalking her. Once again causing her to step away. Not toward the door, where one of the maids might see her backing out of her own bedchamber, but toward the door opening into her dressing room.
Deveril’s strides lengthened, blocking Alys from reaching that door. He stepped closer to prevent her escape, using his superior height and muscular build to pin her in the corner of the room.
Her chin rose. “What were you doing poking about in my wardrobe?”
“The gown you wore last night smells of you.”
Her gown smelled— “I shall see it is laundered later today.”
Deveril chuckled. “I did not mean it smelled unpleasantly. There is a trace of your perfume on the material.”
“I do not wear— Oh.” Color burned Alys’s cheeks as she realized he had to be referring to the aroma of her arousal.
Could he really detect that on the gown she had worn last night? How embarrassing if that was the case.
“I am burning up with desire for you.” Devil said the words to distract her, but he instantly realized he spoke the truth. It seemed to be a constant state of affairs whenever he was near Alys.
She raised a hand and placed it against his brow. “You are burning up because you are unwell.” Her hand dropped to her side. “Indeed, I believe you may be delirious if you have resorted to sniffing at my gowns.”
“How unromantic you are.” Although Devil accepted his excuse, that he had been in her wardrobe because he wished to breathe in the perfume of her gown, did smack of lunacy. Unfortunately, it was the best explanation he could come up with at the time. His work as a spy for the English Crown had not previously involved investigating a lady. Especially a lady he desired as much as he did Alys. “Now that you are here in person, there is no need for me to sniff at anything but you.” He gathered her into his arms and claimed her mouth with his own.
She tasted so delicious, a combination of honey—which she had no doubt had with her breakfast—and the even sweeter nectar that was Alys alone.
Devil could gorge himself on that taste for hours without end.
He caressed the length of her slender back as his mouth continued to devour hers, hands cupping the twin globes of her bottom as he pulled her in closer still. He groaned as he felt the heat of her mound against his erect cock.
Her neck arched as he broke the kiss to trail kisses along her jaw and down the length of her throat to the tops of her breasts. She gasped, hands clinging to his shoulders as he sucked some of that plump flesh into his mouth.
“I want to touch and taste more of you.” Devil’s fingers worked on unfastening the buttons at the back of her gown as he continued to lick and suck on her exposed flesh. By the time he had undone four of the buttons, her gown was loose enough for him to pull the material down and reveal her pretty breasts tipped with engorged nipples the color of ripe strawberries. Devil parted his lips and sucked one fully into his mouth while his fingers plucked and played with its twin.
Alys trembled in his arms. “Dear God…”
Devil sucked harder, his tongue a rough rasp against that sensitive nubbin as his other hand caressed down the slender line of her waist and slightly fuller hips, before cupping the heat of her mound. “I want to taste you there too,” he murmured against the dampness of her skin. “To part your swollen folds and thrust my tongue inside your pussy and allow the flow of your juices to slide down my throat.”
She trembled all the harder. “You cannot— I cannot. If someone should find you in here—”
“Someone has found him here,” Newcomb spoke coldly from across the room. “He also requires an explanation as to what the two of you are doing alone together in your bedchamber as soon as my back is turned.”
Alys felt the color leech from her cheeks as she turned her head and saw her brother standing in the now-open doorway of her bedchamber. He was not alone. Their butler, Holmes, was with him. “Teddy—”
“You will be quiet, Alys,” her brother instructed icily. “And I suggest you straighten your clothing, as neither Holmes nor I have any wish to look at your bare tits!”
Alys’s hands shook as she pulled up the material of her gown to cover her breasts. “Teddy—”
“Holmes, go and tell my guests to proceed with the shoot without me.” Her brother ignored her entreaty, waiting until the butler had departed before speaking again. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he demanded of Deveril.
Devil had silently watched and listened to the exchange between brother and sister, alert to the fact that he had been discovered in Alys’s bedchamber by not only Newcomb but also the convenient witness of the family butler.
Teddy Newcomb looked at him with eyes as blue as his sister’s, but the other man’s eyes were hard and calculating where hers were not. Leaving Devil in no doubt the younger man was thinking of exactly what he might be able to extract from him for having been caught making love to his unmarried sister in her bedchamber.
It had been very neatly done, Devil acknowledged with grudging admiration. Far too neatly for it to be a coincidence there was also a witness to Alys’s supposed debauchery.
The Deveril estate was a wealthy one, and it would not be the first time a lady, or a member of her family, had tried to trick Devil either into marriage or to issue a demand of a hefty payment if he wished to avoid a scandal. In the past, Devil had always dealt with such matters by refusing to do either and telling them to go ahead and broadcast their false accusations and be damned. Devil knew they all had more to lose in Society by doing so than he did.
This time, it was different. This time, he was not averse to the lady involved. The opposite, in fact.
“What do I have to say for myself?” Devil made a decision in that moment that would change the course of his life forever. “Why, that it is my intention to marry your sister, of course.”