She chuckled, and they continued to circulate amongst the guests.
He’d forgotten this—wending through a haut ton crowd with her, trading quips, observations, and shrewdly cynical remarks. Her naturally observant nature and often-acid wit closely mirrored his own; he’d forgotten that they matched so well and could entertain each other in such a pleasant fashion.
Fifteen minutes later, by his estimation, they’d done their duty by Lady Walton and remained for long enough.
When he’d walked in and seen Child standing beside Therese, he’d had to fight not to stride too rapidly to her. Admittedly, he’d come there intending to spend time with her to assess the possibilities of—dare he say it?— wooing her in such a setting, but discovering that his old friend was present and had already found his way to her had given him even more reason to cling to her side.
He held few illusions about Child’s ability—or his readiness—to throw a spanner in Devlin’s works. It was more than possible that Child might think it an excellent idea to pretend to seduce Therese. Not that he would actually do so, but that he would think it great sport to play the part just to get a rise out of Devlin.
That was the sort of relationship he and his old childhood friend had. Always had had, truth be told.
But at this particular time, the last thing he needed was to have Child queering his pitch. The fact that after nine years away, Child had chosen now—this month—to return to England felt very much as if Fate was laughing at Devlin. And if, heaven help him, Child got any inkling of the delicate quest Devlin had embarked on, after laughing himself silly, Child wouldn’t be able to stop himself from interfering, and God alone knew where that might end.
As a second son and with his much older brother the fond father of two healthy sons, Child was significantly far down the ladder of the ducal succession. Consequently, in many arenas, Child had always enjoyed greater freedom than Devlin, on whom the mantle of heir and the attendant responsibilities had always weighed heavily. From a young age, Child had grown adept at exploiting the constraints Devlin’s position placed on him to score points in the never-ending game between them.
Devlin had to admit that after nine years apart, he couldn’t know for certain how Child would behave now, but when it came to Therese and their marriage, he wasn’t about to take any risks.
They’d reached one side of the room when Therese slowed, then halted.
Devlin halted beside her, looked into her face, and saw a slight frown in her eyes. “What is it?”
She glanced at him, then leaned a little more heavily on his arm and lowered her voice. “Child—you must know a great deal about him.”
Devlin fought not to tense. “I daresay I do.” He eyed her warily. “What do you want to know?”And why?
“I was just thinking…well, our exchange with Lady Fairchild nudged my mind in that direction.” She met his eyes. “Child is the same age as you, isn’t he?”
“I’m a month older—hence his ‘old man’ reference.”
She smiled like a cat sighting an oblivious canary. “And he’s unmarried.” She threw him an arch look. “Don’t you think it’s about time Lord Child found himself a wife?”
For one glorious instant, Devlin imagined what a magnificent weapon-cum-partner Therese would be in effectively countering Child…then he saw the crater opening at his feet. If he encouraged Therese to practice her matchmaking wiles on Child, it was entirely possible that Child might misconstrue both her interest and Devlin’s acquiescence…
“Ah…” He refocused on Therese’s face. “Actually, if you think about it, although he is from a ducal family, Child is quite distant from the succession, and given he’s come home unexpectedly, who knows what parlous state his finances might be in?” He paused; he knew better than to simply tell her it wouldn’t be a good idea. “It might be better to wait until you’ve had a chance to speak with his mother.”
That, he was pleased to see, had been the right thing to say. Therese’s expression, which had been darkening, cleared. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to steer some suitable lady his way, only to discover he’s penniless.” She glanced across the room. “Given Lord Charley’s experience, there seems to be quite a bit of that affliction going around.”
“Exactly.” Devlin breathed freely again. He glanced around, then met Therese’s questioning look. “I’ve spoken with everyone I came to see. Is there anyone you wish to speak with before we leave?”
She blinked, then glanced at the guests. “No—I’ve met all those I’d hoped to encounter. And you’re right. We’ve been here long enough.”
He was relieved to be able to close his hand over hers where it rested on his sleeve and steer her to where Lady Walton was holding court. Her ladyship and her cronies certainly took note of him leaving with his wife—eagle-eyed as they were, they’d no doubt noticed how much time he’d spent by her side—but although they might be curious, he knew he hadn’t yet done enough to trigger any definite speculation.
Child’s return had added an element of urgency to his need to redefine Therese’s view of their marriage. He’d come there tonight with the sole purpose of assessing what avenues might exist to further his cause in such a setting. Sadly, he could only do so much without attracting the attention of the gossipmongers and setting their tongues wagging, which was the last thing he wished to do.
Not only would he not appreciate being the focus of ton attention, but Therese would hate that, too.
So he had to be careful. That didn’t mean that, once they’d taken leave of their hostess and descended, arm in arm, to the front hall, he couldn’t help Therese don her evening cloak—and incidentally allow his fingertips to brush lightly over the bare skin of her shoulders.
After collecting his hat, he led her down the steps to the pavement, then gripped her hand to help her into the carriage and followed her up without releasing her fingers. He sat alongside her in the shadowed dark as the carriage rolled through Mayfair, and during the short journey, allowed his thumb to lightly stroke the back of her hand.
From the flash of her silvery eyes as she cast him a swift, sidelong glance, she was very much aware of his tactics.
When the carriage pulled up outside Alverton House, he perforce had to release her as he stepped down, but he reclaimed her hand to assist her to the ground and retained it in a firm clasp as they walked side by side up the steps. When they reached the porch, Portland opened the door and ushered them inside.
Devlin moved to forestall the butler by releasing Therese’s hand and stepping behind her—close behind her—to grip the collar of her velvet cloak and lift it away, once again bestowing an elusive caress that, this time, had her catching her breath.
He knew better than to smile smugly. Instead, after handing over his hat, he closed his hand about hers and drew her to the stairs.
