Regency Wagers by Diane Gaston Page B

piece?’
    Amazing. Ned managed to provoke his anger again. ‘Ned, I assure you, I would not do anything to embarrass my sister-in-law. I have the highest respect and sympathy for her.’
    ‘What do you mean “sympathy”?’ Ned sounded ready to punch him again.
    ‘I meant nothing.’ He meant he was sorry she had not conceived a child, but this was not the time to address Ned on that subject. He had no notion how the wind blew for his brother on that score.
    ‘Who was the woman you were with? Do you have a lightskirt who costs you?’
    Good God. Did Ned wish another jab in the nob? ‘She is an acquaintance who does not deserve your insults.’ Devlin would say no more. He merely wished to get away from his brother. ‘Ned, we have said more than is prudent. I will beg your leave.’
    ‘Indeed? We have resolved nothing.’ Ned looked like a stranger. No, he looked like their father, not at all like his adored older brother.
    ‘It doesn’t matter. I will wait for my money to come due.’ He walked to the door.
    Ned’s mouth set into a thin, grim line. ‘When your money comes due, it will be half the amount.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Half the amount.’ The Marquess studied his papers before glancing up at Devlin. ‘You need to search for a wife. Perhaps penury will serve as an incentive.’
    Devlin fought the rage that erupted inside him. How would he care for Madeleine? How would he feed little Linette? ‘Damn you, Ned. You have no idea what this means.’
    ‘Remember who is the head of the family, little brother.’
    ‘I’ll not forget.’ He spoke through his teeth.
    Devlin hurried out of the library and almost ran into his sister-in-law, who was walking back and forth in the hall.
    ‘Devlin, what happened? Why were you fighting?’ she whispered, her voice filled with anxiety.
    He stroked her arm. ‘A brothers’ quarrel, nothing more. Do not worry, sister.’
    She looked unconvinced. He gave her a long reassuring hug and let her weep against his shoulder a little. ‘It was entirely my fault, Serena. You know how I can provoke Ned. Do not cry.’
    The library door opened. An icy voice such as Devlin had never heard said, ‘Unhand my wife and take your leave.’

Chapter Seven
    M isery assailed Devlin as he walked through the doorway of Ned’s town house. He’d made a mess of things. What a colossal fool, provoking his brother, though he could not precisely remember what he had said to set Ned off. They had disagreed reasonably for a short time. How had he ended up punching Ned in the nose, for deuce’s sake?
    Worse than bloodying the nose of the Marquess of Heronvale was jeopardising Madeleine’s future and that of her child. How would he care for them now?
    What a damned coil. What a fool and idiot.
    He set a slow pace in the direction of St James’s Street.
    He ought to have conserved his money, not rented the bigger apartment, not purchased as many lengths of fabric for Sophie, as many toys for Linette. He should not have purchased an entire wardrobe for Madeleine when she argued for only two or three dresses. Most of all, he should not have lost his temper with his brother. He should have remained calm. He should have rehearsed several cogent arguments why his brother should advance him the money. Instead, he’d allowed Ned to goad him until they came to blows.
    He might laugh at rousing emotion in his brother, if only the result had not been the halving of his funds. Ned’s calm, dispassionate control, so comforting to him as a child, irritatedhim as a man. To think he used to shake with fear when Ned and Percy pummelled each other with their fists, Ned as out of control as Devlin so often was. It had been like watching the foundations at Heronvale crack and crumble.
    This time it was his own would-be estate that crumbled—Edgeworth, twenty miles from Heronvale and ten from Percy’s estate. His father had aimed to keep them close, tied to the land that he’d purchased from neighbours who let