Chapter 9
“As it might be the last occasion on which I might do so, I also insist on escorting my sister in to dinner.” Teddy presented his arm to her.
That left Alys with the option of angering Teddy or slighting Sebastian. To do the former would probably result in an even more uncomfortable evening than she was expecting. To do the latter was unacceptable.
“Allow me.” Carlton stepped forward and offered her his arm.
Alys glanced at him uncertainly, not sure if he was inciting more mischief or if he genuinely wished to help her by offering himself as the third alternative. The warm encouragement in his pale gray eyes told her it was the latter.
“Thank you.” Alys stepped past her brother and Sebastian, who continued to glare at each other, to place her hand on Carlton’s arm and allow him to escort her as they crossed the salon to lead the guests through to the dining room.
“Your brother will be lucky to survive through to the wedding tomorrow if he does not quickly learn to resist challenging Devil,” the earl murmured ruefully.
She sighed heavily. “The drink has made my brother forget all caution, I am afraid. But I thank you for at least attempting to dispel the tension just now.”
Carlton pulled back the chair for her to take her seat at one end of the table once they reached the dining room. “I fear I have only delayed the inevitable,” he drawled as he took the seat to her left, leaving the one to her right for her fiancé, as etiquette dictated he should.
Alys gave the earl a worried glance. “Which is?”
He shrugged broad shoulders. “Devil will be forced to either beat your brother within an inch of his life or possibly run him through with the first available sword. I believe I saw a couple of them on the wall out in the hallway as we passed through,” he added dryly.
Her worry increased. “There is now only dinner this evening and the few hours of tomorrow to get through.”
“That may be too long,” Carlton had time to murmur before Sebastian and the other gentlemen joined them in the dining room. “I would say it depends upon your brother’s behavior for the rest of this evening.”
Alys was aware of, but refused to acknowledge, Teddy’s increasingly belligerent gaze on her during dinner. His already loud and reckless mood was not helped by the vast amount of wine he consumed with each course of the meal.
Dinner was a long-drawn-out affair, but Sebastian and Carlton did their best to ease Alys’s tension and keep her entertained and preoccupied as they regaled her with amusing stories from the years they had spent at school and university together.
“You joined the army at the same time too, I believe?” she prompted lightly, and was instantly aware of a frisson of tension as the two men glanced at each other and then away again. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Not at all,” Sebastian answered her smoothly, one of his hands moving to cover hers as it rested on the table top. “All The Sinners were in the army. What one does, the others tend to do too.”
Alys gave Carlton a mischievous glance, much more at ease with him than she had been earlier. “Does that mean we might soon hear word of your own impending nuptials?”
He almost choked over the wine he was sipping, taking several seconds to regain his voice. “Absolutely not,” he assured her emphatically once he had done so. He gave a shudder. “Marriage would not suit me at all.”
“Why not?” she prompted curiously.
“Alys,” Sebastian cautioned.
She gave him a quizzical glance. “Have I spoken out of turn?”
“Not at all,” Carlton dismissed in a bored voice.
“Sebastian…?”
Devil gave her a reassuring smile, unwilling to discuss Maxim’s private life. He might, with Maxim’s permission, explain that situation to Alys one day. But not tonight. “Let us talk of something else. Are you sure you are completely packed and ready to leave here for good tomorrow?”
She nodded. “I am.”
“That is—”
“—marrying the man who killed our father just proves that my sister is nothing but a whore who will spread her legs for any man who so much as looks at her. Even the man who murdered our father!” Teddy Newcomb’s voice carried easily from the other end of the table, causing all other conversation to cease.
Devil pushed his chair back noisily as he instantly rose to his feet.
“Calm down, Devil,” Maxim warned softly. “Can you not see he is only trying to anger you into a fight?”
“Then he is succeeding,” Devil bit out through gritted teeth.
“Not here. Not now,” Maxim cautioned. “Too many witnesses.”
Devil’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides as he glared down the length of the table at his host and future brother-in-law. “Unless you have another sister whom you have chosen to insult, and so publicly, I suggest you apologize to Alys immediately.”
“Can’t apologize for telling the truth, old chap.” Newcomb waved his wineglass about as he spoke, slopping some of the contents over his hand and onto the table. “Everyone knows the only reason you’re marrying her is because she behaved the whor—” He got no farther in his rant against Alys because Devil had reached that end of the table in four long strides and had now lifted the other man up from his chair by the front of his waistcoat.
Devil thrust his face very close to the younger man’s. “You will apologize to Alys, or give me the satisfaction of meeting me outside at dawn.”
“With the same set of dueling pistols you used to kill my father?” Newcomb taunted.
His eyes narrowed. “I had pummeling you into the ground with my fists in mind, but I will happily—”
“Now, now, gentlemen.” Maxim joined the two of them, his tone cajoling. “Tempers are merely running a little high with the advent of the wedding tomorrow.”
Alys felt totally humiliated, both by her brother’s revealing comments and Sebastian’s visceral reaction to them.
Carlton’s calm intervention had succeeded in bringing her out of her initial shock, and she now rose to her feet, her head held high as she left the dining room with all the dignity she could muster. She would have gone to her bedchamber shortly anyway and left the gentlemen to enjoy their brandy, so what did it matter if she left a few minutes sooner than she had intended?
Teddy’s drunken comment showed the absolute contempt he felt toward her. The alcohol had loosened his tongue. He also seemed to have thrown all caution to the wind now that he had received his twenty thousand pounds from her future husband.
Sebastian’s furious reaction was almost as disturbing.
Her brother’s remark regarding her father’s dueling pistols was also a stark reminder to Alys that she had always held Deveril responsible for that untimely death.
A violence Deveril had shown this evening he was clearly capable of.
Alys had not forgotten the manner of her father’s death. How could she? But she had allowed herself, with Deveril’s encouragement, to give him the benefit of the doubt on the subject. Enough to consent to marry him, at least.
Alys had no doubt that Teddy had spoken deliberately, intending to cause a rift between herself and Deveril before their marriage had even begun. But that did not make his comments any less valid.
She had agreed to marry the man whom she had found standing over her father’s dead body with a recently fired pistol in his hand.
“Alys!”
She froze halfway up the stairs at the sound of Deveril’s voice, then drew in a deep and calming breath before turning to glance down to where he stood in the hallway looking up at her. “I have a headache and am going to bed.”
Devil took the stairs two at a time until he was standing on the step below hers, their faces now on the same level. A cold lump took up residence in his chest as he saw the withdrawn expression on Alys’s pale face and the remoteness of her gaze.
Damn Newcomb for the bastard he undoubtedly was. First for hurting Alys with his remarks about her virtue, and then by reminding Alys of the way in which her father died and her future husband’s supposed involvement in it.
His jaw tightened. “Do you really have a headache, or are you merely avoiding spending any more time in my company this evening?”
Her laugh lacked humor. “Considering I shall be your wife by this time tomorrow, the latter would be a pointless exercise, do you not agree?”
He breathed deeply through his nose. “It does not matter what I think, it is what you think and feel that is important.”
She met his gaze unflinchingly. “Why?”
“Why?” he repeated impatiently. “Because you are to be my wife.”
She gave a shake of her head. “I do not see what that has to do with anything that has happened this evening. My brother only stated the truth.”
Devil’s eyes widened. “You still believe I murdered your father?”
“I have no idea why or at whose hand my father died,” she stated flatly. “I was referring to Teddy’s previous comment.”
That she was nothing but a whore who would spread her legs for any man who so much as looked at her.
“You know that is untrue,” Devil snapped.
“Is it?” she said dully. “I seem to recall that, on your instruction, I eagerly spread my legs for you earlier today.”
Devil reached out to grasp the tops of her arms and shook her slightly. “I will not allow you speak about yourself in that way. We are to be married. It is perfectly acceptable for the two of us to…indulge ourselves a little before the ceremony.”
Alys gave a choked laugh. A show of humor belied by the tears glistening in her eyes. “I really do have a headache and ask to be excused.”
Devil looked at her searchingly for several seconds, long enough to realize she was holding on to her emotions by a thread. He nodded abruptly before releasing her. “I will be glad when we are far away from here,” he muttered.
Alys had no idea how she felt about anything anymore…
The fact her brother had deliberately and cruelly humiliated her this evening.
Marrying Deveril tomorrow.
Leaving Newcomb Manor forever immediately after the wedding.
She felt numb, from having suffered too much emotion these past few days. Something inside her had shut down, unwilling to take or listen to anything further just now.
“Good night, Deveril.” Her eyes were downcast as she turned and resumed climbing the stairs to her bedchamber.
Devil remained unmoving, knowing it was telling that Alys had called him Deveril and not Sebastian, as she had done today.
Damn and blast Newcomb for the bastard he was and always would be.
“Is she going to be all right?”
It was no surprise to him that Maxim had followed him from the dining room. He doubted his friend felt any more inclined than he did to linger after dinner to drink brandy with Newcomb and his equally disreputable friends. If Devil had his way, the whole lot of them would be thrown out, and his host would receive a sound beating.
But this was not Devil’s home, and so he must suffer the other men’s company for at least another sixteen hours or more. After that, he meant it when he said he never wanted to set eyes on Newcomb again.
Devil turned to join Maxim at the bottom of the wide staircase. “Alys is as well as can be expected in the circumstances.” His mouth twisted. “I should thank you. If you had not been here to verbally restrain me, I would cheerfully have choked Newcomb for his insult to Alys.”
Maxim shrugged. “That is what he wanted.”
“Ungrateful bastard.” Devil acknowledged the fact Newcomb now had his money and felt no further need to be in the least polite to either Alys or Devil. “Alys is none of the things he accused her of being—”
“I am well aware of that.” The earl sounded testy that Devil should even think he might doubt Alys’s virtue. “Your betrothed is not only beautiful but a woman of fortitude. I heartily approve of her as your choice of wife. Alys is a lady to her very bones.” He straightened. “Now could we get out of this drafty hallway and find ourselves a decent brandy rather than that swill we were forced to drink earlier today?”
It took some doing, but Devil finally managed to persuade the reluctant butler into bringing them up a bottle of Peter Newcomb’s personal brandy from the cellar.
After which the two gentlemen retired to the library and spent the next few hours drinking the whole bottle between them. Devil knew Maxim was only keeping him company, and his own consumption of the alcohol was so that he did not give in to the pull he felt to go to Alys’s bedchamber and comfort her further.
The bleakness in her eyes before she left him had indicated she would find no comfort in his or anyone else’s arms tonight.
Today was her wedding day.
Alys still lay abed, despite the fact it was almost ten o’clock in the morning. She had been awake for hours but was reluctant to rise from her bed and for the day to begin. To her surprise, she had heard Teddy and his friends leave for their usual morning shoot an hour or so ago. No doubt Teddy saw no reason why should he have his pleasure curtailed simply because it was his only sister’s wedding day.
After last night, Alys doubted Deveril and Carlton had accompanied the other men, but that was all the more reason for her to remain in her bedchamber this morning. It was bad luck for her and Deveril to see each other before the wedding.
Despite the brightness of the sun shining in through the windows of her bedchamber, this wedding was not the happy and joyous occasion Alys had always envisaged it as being.
Her father was not here to give her away.
Her bridegroom would not gaze at her with love and pride as she walked down the aisle ready and eager to become his wife.
Instead, Teddy would be the one to give her away, something he had made it clear he could not wait to do. But not before he had insulted both her and her future husband.
And Deveril might desire her, but he did not love her.
As to her own feelings for Deveril…
She had been in love with him three years ago, and despite all that had happened since, she was very much afraid she loved him still.
Afraid, because their marriage would be based on contempt on Deveril’s part, for having paid her brother twenty thousand pounds to protect her virtue. And distrust on Alys’s, because she still had no idea whether or not Deveril was guilty of having shot and killed her father.
The only one who gained in this arrangement was her brother, and he deserved it least of all.
“Which dress will you be wearing to the wedding this afternoon?”
Alys glanced across at her maid, Meg having brought a breakfast tray to her a short time ago. A tray that remained untouched on the bedside table. The young girl was now looking through the limited amount of gowns in Alys’s wardrobe. Yesterday, Alys had picked out a demure cream silk day dress and matching bonnet to wear for her wedding today. But that gown no longer held the appeal it had then.
“The red silk,” she decided as she threw back the covers and rose from the bed.
Meg looked taken aback by the choice. “You intend to wear red for your wedding?”
“Why not?” Alys dismissed airily.
The red silk gown had originally belonged to her mother, a voluminous, tight-waisted gown which Alys had sent to the seamstress some months ago to be altered to today’s fashion. It still fitted at the waist, but all the red lace had been removed from the bodice and several of the underskirts too.
She gave a snort. “Everyone believes I have seduced Deveril into marriage, so I might as well dress the part.”
Meg gasped. “No one believes any such thing.” She gave a shake of her head. “Besides, my grandmother always said marrying in a red gown means you wish yourself dead.”
Alys did not wish for quite that, but she might have hoped she did not feel so miserable on her wedding day either.
“You must be so excited to be marrying the marquis,” Meg continued excitedly. “We all remember him from his visits here three years ago— Oh I am sorry, Miss Alys.” She gave a wince. “I did not mean to remind you of that unhappy time.”
“You cannot remind me of something which is always with me.” Even as she said the words, Alys knew they were not completely true. She did not think of her father or how he died when Deveril was making love to her. Which was utterly traitorous of her.
Her maid nodded. “We all miss Sir Peter too. We also remember his friendship with the marquis, and his lordship’s visits here. How the marquis always paid you such marked attention.”
A frown furrowed Alys’s brow as Meg repeated Teddy’s words from a few days ago. Alys had certainly never noticed Deveril paying her “marked attention” three years ago. And even if he had, Teddy’s recent blackmail of the marquis had assured there would be no return of those possibly tender feelings.
“I shall wear the red silk,” Alys repeated firmly.
“Very well, Miss Alys.” Meg bobbed a curtsey. “I shall take the gown downstairs with me for a quick iron and have your bathwater brought up.”
Alys had barely settled herself in the steaming hot water of her bath when she heard the shouts from outside the house, followed by the banging of several doors downstairs.
What on earth…?
The door to her bedchamber flew open, and a flushed and agitated Meg rushed into the room. “Oh, Miss Alys, it’s dreadful. Dreadful!” she repeated for emphasis.
“What has happened?” Alys demanded as she sat up in the bath.
Her maid wrung her hands together. “There’s been a terrible accident.”
Alys stepped out of the water before pulling on her robe to cover her nakedness. “What sort of accident?”
Meg’s eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. “Master Teddy has been shot!”
Alys reached out and clutched hold of the mantel of the fireplace as she felt the blood drain from her face and she swayed unsteadily.
Teddy had been shot?
By accident, as Meg said?
Or had someone shot him deliberately?
That obvious someone being Deveril…