Duke Of Darkness. Anabelle Bryant

to chuckle.

      “Oh come now, you went to The Willows expecting a lad and instead discovered a young lady awaiting your protection. You’re going to tell me you didn’t notice what she looks like? How old is she anyway?”

      “One and twenty.” Devlin’s retort was half answer, half growl.

      “Oh, so young. And you’re to see her married? That could take years.”

      Phineas had the insolence to laugh again. Despite his friend stood taller and broader, Devlin wanted to hit him. He finished his brandy instead. “It won’t take years, and you and I are not that much older than one and twenty.”

      “Ridiculous. It seems like that part of my life, the carefree easy days, are quite some time ago.”

      There was a bit of commotion outside, King’s rough bark followed by a sharper, high-pitched yip.

      “As if you aren’t carefree now. Who do you think you’re talking to?” Devlin strode to the terrace doors and out onto the balcony. He scowled as Phineas took his place beside him.

      Below, Devlin’s English sheepdog pursued Alexandra’s white terrier; the two engaged in a merry chase. The small pup was quicker and able to dart and change direction with the agility of a rabbit. Meanwhile King was overweight and cumbersome from partaking of too many sugar biscuits with his owner. His bark was the most energetic portion of his effort.

      “King! Henry! Stop that at once!”

      The twittering of laugher that floated up to the balcony caused the men to peer over the railing.

      “Hell’s teeth.” Devlin’s scowl grew darker. Directly below, Ladies Alexandra and Julia stared up at the two of them, their laughter barely contained, not just at the scene before them but at the ridiculous nature of his exclamation, too.

      Meanwhile, at his left, Phineas eyed Alexandra and muttered with emphatic appreciation, “Oh my.”

       Chapter Nine

      “I think we should plan a ball or some kind of social.” Julia’s eyes lit with her suggestion and Alexandra smiled in amusement at her new friend’s overflowing enthusiasm.

      Devlin did not intend to be the wet hat, but the thought of anyone other than the few chosen people that frequented Kenley Manor descending upon his home was out of the question. Alexandra may be unaware of the rampant gossip attached to the Wharncliffe name, but he would not have her opportunity to make a match sullied by the rumour mill.

      “Absolutely not. I do not want anyone coming here. This is my home.” The finality in his tone stunted Julia’s usual rebuttal. They reclined in the study having finished an enjoyable dinner filled with light-hearted conversation. After which they’d chased down the dogs and separated them. Ridiculous, really. King would not leave Just Henry alone.

      Just Henry.

      Devlin enjoyed the quip, most especially as every time he used it, he was guaranteed another glimpse at the adorable dimple in Lexi’s right cheek.

      “Don’t be unreasonable, Dev. Somehow we are going to have to get social.”

      Devlin was confident Phin knew better than to share his reasons for dropping from each season’s activities. He’d made an honest effort to appear at social events over the years, but it soon became evident that the draw to such events was the Mad Duke of Kenley Manor’s attendance. It was his character, his family history, and the exaggerated story attached to it, that provoked whispers in the corner, as if catching a glimpse of him was a rare and sought after experience. The whole thing turned Devlin’s stomach and he withdrew from society the same way one dropped a poker resting in the fire too long. Eventually the invitations stopped coming. He was in no hurry to see them renew. For the most part, the life he led suited him without complaint.

      “Dev?” Phin reached across the mantel and rapped his arm. “Are you with us this evening?”

      “Yes. Excuse me. Of course, we’ll get social.” Devlin took a moment to exhale and clear his thoughts. “Let’s just do it somewhere else.”

      “I can ask Mother to plan a ball for Father’s birthday, Phin. That’s only a week away and if we make a concerted effort we can arrange a small affair with the most selective guest list.” Julia leaned forward, more animated with each word. “I know all the most eligible bachelors, Alexandra, and I will be sure to see my mother invites each one of them.”

      Separating from where the ladies sat on the settee, Devlin turned to Phin with dark suspicion. “What is your sister up to? I don’t trust that look in her eye. I’ve seen it over the years and it never leads to anything good.”

      “I don’t know.” Phin glanced to his sister. “You don’t suppose she’s trying to make you jealous, do you?” Both men shared a withered look.

      “Good God, I hope not. Talk of eligible bachelors and the choicest men is exactly the conversation I want to hear. Maybe your sister can find herself a match while we seek a husband for Lexi.”

      “Lexi?” Phin raised his brow in question as a mocking smile broke loose.

      “Never mind the name. Figure out a solution. I have it in mind we get both girls wedded so we can enjoy some peace and quiet. Then I can continue to work on my golf game.”

      “And you think it’s that easy? I tell you, it is highly unlikely unless you are considering marriage yourself. My sister has a one-track mind. Make that a one-man mind. Do something to discourage her, for heaven’s sake. Golf and your other eccentric tendencies fail to mar your appeal. Take to drinking too much or chewing tobacco. Claim your seat in Parliament and oppose the Corn Laws. Stop looking so damnable dashing.”

      “Why, Phin, I had no idea.” Grinning, Devlin strode to the corner and lifted one of his clubs from the case. His friend followed, enjoying the foolishness of their banter.

      “How much do you spend on clothing anyway? It isn’t a masculine trait to be so preoccupied with one’s appearance.”

      Devlin pivoted, his club at rest by his side. “Oh, you remind me. Could Julia take Alexandra to a modiste? She arrived with the smallest valise in existence. I can’t imagine much is in there besides the horrid black gowns she keeps producing. There is no way she is going to any function, never mind your father’s birthday party, dressed like the Dowager Duchess of Darkness.”

      “Very clever.”

      “Not really. I just switched the name out. One of my old labels in the gossip rags. Mad Duke of Darkness. You remember?”

      To another, there wouldn’t have been notice, but Phin reached out and touched his shoulder, and Devlin knew his friend could read his emotion as easily as he knew his own.

      “By the by, you failed to mention how becoming your new ward is.”

      Devlin answered his comment with a malevolent stare and Phin stepped back with palms raised.

      “A simple observation.”

      His friend almost chuckled but better judgement changed his mind.

      “Don’t get any ideas.” Devlin’s growled response caused Phin’s eyebrows to climb; yet it was hard to deny his friend’s classic profile and rugged appeal irritated. “And stop looking at me like that. She’s too young for you anyway.” The well-known fact that a gaggle of women twittered over Phin’s golden brown hair and unique amber eyes at every social affair deepened Devlin’s annoyance.

      “Earlier today you said we weren’t much older than one and twenty.”

      Devlin knew his friend was jibing him but all at once he was in no mood. “That’s not what I meant. You should pay better attention.” And then he rapped Phin in the leg with his golf club, because it felt good to do so.

      “Ouch. What was that for?” Phineas leaned