Duke Of Darkness. Anabelle Bryant

as Devlin entered the main hall. “I expect Derwent at any moment. I will be in my study. Show him up directly.” He strode towards the mahogany staircase and only paused as Reeston replied.

      “Of course, Your Grace. Shall I have a room prepared? Are we to acquire another house guest?”

      It served well that his back was turned to his butler’s droll enquiries and Devlin stopped an appreciative grin with sufficient speed before he spun to counter the jest. His mood seemed much improved of late. For that matter, so did the butler’s. It would appear his ward was not only lovely, but infectiously kind. Her ever-affable nature affected everyone who came in contact with her, whether they liked it or not.

      He offered the servant a belated nod. “No, but it is a matter of great importance. We will take coffee. Send it up immediately. I hope this meeting is not a waste of my time.” The latter was said more to himself than anyone else, but then he raised his voice as he remembered another directive that need be given.

      “And do not allow Fenhurst to interrupt us. This is serious business. Somehow whenever Phineas enters a room, things go awry.”

      “Very good, Your Grace. If Lord Fenhurst arrives, shall I suggest he spend time with Lady Alexandra in the gardens?”

      “No.” It may have been a dose of male competitiveness that invaded his tetchy answer. Devlin did not ponder it further. Instead, he made his way up the stairs and into his study. He settled behind his desk set to accomplish the accumulated paperwork, but Derwent arrived less than ten minutes later. The solicitor appeared more at ease than the last time he’d visited, and he took a seat after accepting a cup of hot coffee.

      “I received your reply to my enquiry and expect you have answers to share. As I expressed in my letter, if I am to serve as Lady Alexandra’s guardian I need to know as much about her background as possible. Does she have any family? Brothers or sisters? If so, why doesn’t she ever speak of them? What circumstances brought her to The Willows? That sort of thing.”

      A palpable impatience laced his words. He’d hardly dispensed with pleasantries before requesting the results Derwent uncovered. Meanwhile the solicitor did not miss the cue and replaced his cup in the saucer before he reached for the packet of papers he’d previously set beside the leg of his chair.

      “I am afraid there is not much to share, Your Grace. Apparently, your aunt was not one to ask many questions. Her staff has been kind enough to speak to me on your behalf, but they knew very little about your ward. Grimley noted your aunt had no desire to pry into Lady Alexandra’s background and that she sensed the young lady possessed a good heart and a gentle soul.” Derwent cleared his throat after the last bit.

      Devlin would be hard put to argue with his aunt’s assessment, although it would have been prudent for Min to insist upon knowing more before she welcomed a stranger into her home. He cursed himself for the umpteenth time for not being more diligent in his visits. Had he ventured to The Willows at any time in the past two years the situation today might be entirely different. The notion gave him pause. Then he blew out a short breath and continued to interrogate the solicitor.

      “What of the reference list she offered pursuant to the position of companion? Were you able to discover anything about her past? Why am I paying you if you’ve shown up here to tell me absolutely nothing?” He made no effort to disguise his frustration, more than a little curious as to Alexandra’s past and how it might affect her future. He noticed whenever the topic arose, Lexi was rather circumspect about her years spent prior to The Willows, and she proved far too clever to get caught in any of his little conversational traps. It left him with few alternatives. Aunt Min specifically asked him not to beleaguer her with questions, yet hiring another person to uncover information seemed to fall into a sketchy area that neither bothered nor laboured his conscience.

      The sum of the facts didn’t make sense. What type of circumstance would prompt a young lady to leave home and apply for a position of companion to an elderly woman living in the countryside, virtually cutting herself off from the rest of society? Disappointment narrowed his eyes as he slued his attention to the solicitor. He’d hoped to learn more about his ward. Instead, Lexi remained a perplexing little mystery.

      “If you discover anything of importance, pursue it vigorously. It is inconceivable that Lady Alexandra originated out of thin air one morning on my late aunt’s doorstep. Look harder, Derwent, and uncover the answers I seek. Then act on them. Coming here to report nothing is a waste of time for both of us.” He stood to signal their time was at an end and the solicitor gathered his things and left.

      Devlin returned to the chair behind his desk and sat down with heavy thoughts. He steepled his fingers and stared into the vivid flames ablaze in the firebox. Answers. He needed answers. Perhaps Lexi confided in members of his household. It was a legitimate consideration. She did spend a bit of time with Cook on occasion and although Reeston would never admit to it, the butler had taken a liking to her. They chatted more often than not after breakfast before everyone began their busy day. Would it be so wrong to ask the man for a few answers? Reeston wouldn’t be easy to read, but at this point it was worth a try.

      With his decision made, Devlin stood up and made his way to the main hall intent on finding his butler. Unfortunately, when he arrived the area was empty. He glanced around the room, one dark brow arched at his quick observations, nary a detail unnoticed. A looming hallstand complete with mirror aligned against the far wall. A tapestry chair, overstuffed and upholstered in a faded print shot with sage green and goldenrod, complimented the hallstand’s position. A fringed pillow with a white floral design now graced the seat.

      There was no mistaking a female resided at Kenley Manor. Alexandra had hardly been present during the past few days due to shopping excursions and gown fittings, yet little traces a woman lived in the manor were now evident. Devlin donned a knowing smile at the vase of fresh pink roses gracing the entryway lowboy and summoned Reeston with a bellowing shout.

      “You need me, Your Grace.”

      Cocky fellow. He stated it rather than asked. “Yes, I do. I’ve noticed a few things …” His voice trailed off as his stare rested on the bouquet, two such bouquets actually, placed at opposite ends of the foyer.

      “Yes, the flowers. One of the maids heard Lady Alexandra comment on their beauty as she sat in the garden yesterday afternoon. I believe the maid thought it pleasant to bring them indoors.” When Devlin didn’t comment, Reeston continued. “It is a little thing.”

      “I suppose. But they are pink. Perhaps the yellow or white can come in tomorrow.” He brushed past his butler, slowing as he heard Reeston’s soft spoken enquiry.

      “And did you sleep well, Your Grace?”

      It was so like Reeston to enquire about his health, his sleep habits, the old man a makeshift father to him over the years. In truth, Reeston proved better. His father was nothing more than a source of disappointment.

      “Oddly, I have experienced only one episode since the news of my aunt’s death. It is a welcome respite with all the activity that has besieged my home.” He grimaced and tried to don a look of annoyance, but Devlin was no fool and knew Reeston could detect his reluctant pleasure.

      “She does add a bit of brightness to the manor, wouldn’t you say?” The butler cleared his voice and adjusted a flower in the vase to his right in an attempt to feign disinterest.

      “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He would be damned if he would admit how much the house had come alive with the addition of his ward and her slightly crazed puppy. “Remember yellow or white roses in the future. I won’t have people entering my home and thinking me a Mary.”

      He might have stormed off with that edict, as it was definitely a suitable exit line, but the knocker sounded. Reeston received the caller and several footmen were summoned to accept the multitude of packages flooding the foyer. And there were a ridiculous number. Gowns, shoes, boots, hats, the foyer filled faster than Reeston or any other servant could manage to pile them in order.

      “I would venture to say Lady Julia has been successful in aiding Lady