Give All to Love by Patricia Veryan Page A

are.”
    â€œWe-ell, yes. Until I—er, become a benedick, at all events.”
    She all but leapt back. “What?” She searched his face. “Have you—fixed on a lady? Who? I have been hearing whispers of the infamous Isabella.”
    â€œThere is nothing in the least smoky about the lady,” he said loftily. “Even if her brother is unspeakable. Bella is”—he turned to his untidy desk once more—“very lovely, and does, I feel sure, return my regard, so—” His words were cut off as a cushion bounced from his head. “Wretched brat!” Grinning, he turned on her and snatched away the cushion. She was at him in a flash, her darting hands tugging at his neckcloth, tearing the handkerchief from his pocket, seizing a handful of flowers and jamming them into his thick hair, eluding his desperate attempts to restrain her, until he caught her at last and, weak with laughter, they clung to each other.
    â€œColonel the Honourable Tristram Leith,” announced Wolfe imperturbably.

Chapter 5
    â€œTris!” Rather red in the face, Devenish greeted their guest, both hands outstretched. “Welcome! Welcome!”
    Returning his strong clasp, Tristram Leith’s fine eyes, alight with amusement, flashed to Josie’s blushes. Badly wounded at the Battle of Waterloo, Leith’s face was still streaked on one side with scars that failed to render him less than a fine-looking man. Before the battle, his looks had been such as to reduce London’s ladies to sighful yearnings. The scars had faded now; his thick hair was near-black, his dark eyes keen, his tall frame as lean and supple as it had been when Devenish first had met him several weeks after the battle. He wore a well-cut riding coat and tight-fitting moleskins, and his topboots gleamed. He had no need to apologize for his appearance, but said, “Had I known you intended to array yourself for my benefit, I’d have worn something more formal.”
    Devenish scanned him uncertainly.
    Leith removed a blossom from the untidy fair hair. “A fine way to behave,” he scolded, sotto voce, then turned to bow over Josie’s hand and drop a kiss onto her uplifted cheek. “Lovelier each time I see you, Milady Elf,” he said with a fond smile. “You’d best take care, Dev, else you’ll have some lucky fellow taking your ward off your hands.”
    â€œJust as I’ve been telling her,” said Devenish blandly.
    â€œHe has, in fact, been instructing me on whom I am to choose,” Josie explained.
    â€œOh, has he?” Leith chuckled. “So that was the cause for the uproar. Lucky I came when I did.”
    â€œLucky for us,” Devenish said heartily. “You can stay a week at least, I hope?”
    â€œHave you brought Rachel and the children?” asked Josie eagerly.
    â€œMy four ladies are still at Cloudhills,” he answered with a smile. “And I regret that I can stay no longer than tonight. I’ve a message for Guy, and then must dash home. Craig and his family are joining us for a week, and I’ve the deuce of a lot to attend to now that my father and Dora are in Brazil.”
    Disappointed, Devenish said, “No, but they’ll not miss you for a day or so.”
    â€œPerhaps. But I miss them. Dashed if I can see how you stand the life of a bachelor!”
    On her way to give instructions to the servants, Josie said, “He will not be one for much longer, Tris.” She directed a mocking glance over her shoulder. “My aged soul is to be wed—very soon.”
    â€œDevil he is!” Taken aback, Leith asked, “To whom, sly-boots?”
    Devenish tightened his lips, irritated.
    Josie called sweetly, “Tell him, dearest…” and closed the door.
    â€œBaggage!” muttered Devenish, and waved the Colonel to a chair.
    Watching as he limped over to the credenza whereon rested decanter and glasses,