Devil Takes A Bride by Gaelen Foley Page B

her Jacinda-like ruse.
    The eagle-eyed dowager regarded her skeptically, but Devlin let out a mild curse to see what the cat had done to her gown.
    â€œBlazes, Aunt, can’t you keep that rat on a leash?”
    â€œBut, Devlin, Pasha loves pigeon pie,” Lady Strathmore protested mildly, chuckling as her spoiled pet huffed over to the warm bricks in front of the fireplace and pretended to ignore the scolding, sulking and licking his paw.
    Having barely escaped a dousing from his own tumbled glass, Devlin cast about with a look of distress in her behalf, as if he knew she could never afford to replace the gown, a gift from the fantastically wealthy Jacinda. “That will come out if you hurry,” he offered. “I’m sure my valet could give it one of his treatments. Ben’s a genius, truly. No stain can stand against him.” He got out of the way while the footman quickly mopped up the spreading puddle of coffee.
    â€œYou’re very kind,” she murmured barely audibly. “I’m sure I’ll manage. If you’ll excuse me.”
    â€œOff you go,” the dowager said blithely. “Do not fret, my dear. Owing it all to Pasha’s mischief, I promise your gown shall be replaced with a new one if the valet cannot fix it.”
    â€œThank you, ma’am, but I’m sure it won’t be necessary.” What need did she have for such finery? An estate keeper’s daughter had never really had any business going into Society in the first place. Without further ado, she sketched a curtsy and then hurried out of the dining room in a rustle of ruined wet satin.
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    Dev frowned and sat down slowly again after she had gone. “Now, that’s a shame,” he said, still puzzled by Miss Carlisle’s strange reaction of a few moments ago and the stricken look he had glimpsed in her eyes. “You will replace her gown for her?”
    â€œI said I would.” His aunt observed him with a narrow smile. “You like her, do you?”
    He glanced over, startled by her frank inquiry.
Careful, old boy.
His aunt had a habit of trying to marry him off to every eligible female in England. “She seems pleasant enough,” he said guardedly.
    â€œTo be sure, she is not the sort of idiotic miss you are used to. I confess, I am worried about the gel. Do you know how she spends her nights?”
    â€œI cannot imagine.”
    â€œTranslating foreign texts for extra money.”
    â€œDon’t you pay her enough, Aunt?” he asked indignantly.
    â€œOf course, I do. She is saving up, you see, to open a bookshop.”
    â€œA
what
?”
    â€œYou heard me.” They exchanged a puzzled look. Aunt Augusta shrugged and shook her head at the notion. “She is quite the bluestocking, our Miss Carlisle. French, Italian, German.”
    â€œEven German?” he echoed, impressed. “I wonder where she learned that.”
    â€œWhy don’t you ask her? Or is the great adventurer, like every other man, frightened of a woman with brains?”
    â€œI am not frightened of Elizabeth Carlisle, Aunt. Hang it, old girl, I haven’t seen you take to someone this way in years.”
    â€œWell, she is quite worth one’s time. Reminds me of myself as a gel, in fact.”
    He laughed idly, reaching over to pour himself a glass of port from the crystal decanter, now that his coffee had been spilled. “You were an heiress with a dowry of thirty thousand pounds and to the best of my knowledge, you’ve barely a smattering of French.”
    â€œYes, but I never took any nonsense from blue bloods like you, and neither does Miss Carlisle,” she said with a pointed glance. “In any case, I’m sure she will soon be whisked away in matrimonial bliss by my very capable young doctor, Andrew Bell.”
    â€œWhat, Dr. Bell of the Bilious Pills?” he exclaimed.
    â€œOh, he’s quite mad for her. A good match, I should think.