Give All to Love by Patricia Veryan Page B

Leith grinned. “Yes, but what a charming one.”
    â€œIsn’t she?” Returning to hand his friend a glass of Madeira, then sit on the edge of his desk, Devenish said proudly, “Who’d have dreamed that tragic waif would become such a beautiful lady?”
    Leith glanced at him, but his response was tardy. He was at once the recipient of a blazing glare. Devenish snarled, “I suppose you think she is not beautiful?”
    Leith’s deep chuckle sounded. “Swords, or pistols? No—truly, I think her delightful, and if I judge her pretty rather than beautiful, I am likely prejudiced because to me there is but one beautiful lady in the world, and I have her.”
    Devenish threw a frustrated glance at the ceiling. “Once a Staff Officer, always a Staff Officer!”
    â€œNo—really, your little elf is a delight, and has grown up, Dev. Which is more than I can say for you. What’s this I hear about a feud with Little? I vow you’re the same fire-eater manoeuvred me into that damnable fight with Shotten, the very first minute we met!”
    â€œ Manoeuvred you! Like blazes, Tris! The truth is, you stole my quarrel!” He grinned, his anger vanished. “At the Cat and Dragon, wasn’t it? And do you remember the time that rascally farmer was trying to sell a ten-year-old nag to some poor moonling—”
    â€œWhereupon you had to intervene and tell the moonling the hack was ten rather than six, and the farmer called you—let me see—ah, a dang rude little shrimp of a dandy!”
    â€œWhereupon I punched his fatuous head for him!”
    â€œYes—and he and his damned great hulking sons beat you to a pulp, and I’d my work cut out to bring you off still breathing!”
    They both laughed. Devenish said, “Those were good times! It seems such a little while ago. Only yesterday, in fact, since I found my Elf.”
    There was a wistful quality to his slow smile, and Leith, his lazy dark eyes seeing so much more than they appeared to, asked quietly, “Nothing wrong, is there, old fellow?”
    â€œWhat? Oh, no. Nothing. Save that—I wish the years had not flown quite so fast.” He shrugged. “The cry of all fond parents, I fancy.”
    Leith gazed thoughtfully at the fire, then murmured, “You could not expect to keep her safe hidden for—”
    â€œ Safe hidden? Now, just what the hell do you mean by that?”
    â€œSaints preserve us! Must you take me up so? Dev—you have, in a manner of speaking!”
    â€œThen I take a dim view of your manner of speaking! Besides—I’ve not hidden her well enough, apparently. Fontaine’s spotted her.”
    â€œOf course. He spots every pretty girl. He was captivated by her at Jerry’s ball last—”
    â€œBlast it! Everyone seems to have seen that, save me! Why didn’t you warn me, Tris?”
    â€œWhy the deuce should I warn you?” said Leith, mildly amused by his volatile friend. “You have, I presume, eyes in your head. And at all events, what’s so wrong about Fontaine’s interest? Good catch, I’d think.”
    â€œHad he marriage in mind.”
    Leith stared and, considerably shocked, said, “He’s a gentleman, Dev.”
    â€œHe’s a nobleman! The two ain’t necessarily synonymous!”
    There was a moment of complete, taut silence.
    All his amusement flown, Leith, knowing this man almost as well as he knew himself, said quietly, “Can you tell me?”
    â€œDammit—I have no proof.” He hesitated. “But—just in case,” he said reluctantly, “and on the understanding it cannot be repeated … you remember that beastly Morrissey business?”
    â€œGood God!” Leith leaned forward. “You—think the man was Fontaine?”
    â€œI happened to see him with her very late one night. I’m dashed certain her family didn’t know