But she did not stop there. One wheaten brow raised. “I am afraid I did not hear your response, sir.”
That was because she hadn’t gotten one. And if she knew what was good for her, she would stuff her airs up her pretty arse and close her lips. She would not like to hear anything he had to say to her. Likely, it would make her petticoats curl.
“Evie, Devil is doing us all a favor,” Lady Adele was telling her sister in quiet reprimand. “We are fortunate indeed. No one can keep you safer than he shall.”
This time, the other brow went up, a full show of milady’s disbelief. Someone ought to take her over his knee, throw up her skirts, and spank her. Briefly, he allowed himself the fantasy of imagining her bare bottom, how lush and full it would be, her outrage as his coarse palm connected with her smooth, ivory flesh.
But it wouldn’t be Devil. He liked his women soft and seductive and knowing, not tart-tongued and elegant and arrogant.
“He looks as if he is the sort of person I ought to be guarded against, Addy. Rather than the opposite.”
This judgment, too, was delivered in a whisper. One she undoubtedly believed the simpleton in the corner could not comprehend. Milady was about to receive an education.
He would have risen to his feet had he not feared the goddamn chair would stick to his arse. Instead, he remained where he was, pinning his nemesis with a disparaging stare of his own.
“I am the guard, Lady Elizabeth,” he snapped, intentionally using the wrong name.
It was small of him, he knew. But enjoyable, nonetheless.
Her shoulders drew back. “My name is Lady Evangeline.”
He scowled. “Right. And my name is Devil. Not Mr. Winter. Not sir. Devil. Repeat it after me if you like.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Forgive me, but Devil cannot be your Christian name.”
Ordinarily, he didn’t give a bean when he irritated someone. But there was something about nettling the condescending Lady Evangeline that pleased him. And he hadn’t been pleased in…
A long damned time.
“Says who?” he retorted.
She stared at him, aghast.
That was what he thought. Not even a smart retort out of milady’s—
“Says Lady Evangeline Saltisford,” she said, her voice dripping with ice. “If I am to suffer this nonsensical guard nonsense, I must insist I cannot refer to you as Devil. It feels far too damning.”
Of course it did. That was the point. Enemies tended to think twice about attacking a man named Devil. Theodore did not have the same effect. He would eat his cravat before he would tell her his true name.
He shrugged. “Devil or nothing.”
“Mr. Nothing is a strange name indeed, but if that is truly what you wish…”
Lady Adele sighed loudly. “Evie, you are behaving abominably.”
At last, a voice of reason. That twin sister of hers was right shrewish.
Lady Evangeline’s attention returned to her sister. “I am behaving poorly? Heavens, Addy. Ever since you secretly married Mr. Winter, you are acting as if there are goblins hiding behind every corner, waiting to attack us all.”
“Suttons are goblins,” Devil rumbled, surprising himself by speaking again. “Look like them, too.”
Two sets of dark eyes flew to him. He ought to have held his sodding tongue. The chair seemed to grow smaller by the minute.
“Who are Suttons?” Lady Evangeline asked, her gaze never wavering from his this time.
She had addressed him. Without a cutting or condescending edge to her tone.
“Enemies of the Winters,” he said simply.
Her lips—full and pink and luscious-looking as a berry tart—compressed. “But I am not a Winter.”
“Someone shot at you,” he pointed out.
The obvious. He still wasn’t convinced it had been Suttons, however. Shooting at plump pigeons wasn’t their sport. They liked dog and cock fights, chopping off fingers, and setting buildings on fire. The small things.
“No one shot at me! I was on a drive in the park with my betrothed.” Her tone rose, veering toward melodrama as she turned back to her sister, addressing her once more. “I deeply regret Lord Denton ever mentioned it, as that single bullet has caused me no end of trouble.”
Lord Denton. Devil’s lip curled. Of course she would be marrying a soft-palmed twat like Denton who strutted about with a quizzing glass and a cravat tied up to his bloody eyebrows. The bastard had probably shat in his breeches when the shot flew by his curricle.
“He did no such thing!” Lady Evangeline was pinning him with an accusing glare, her face pale. “How dare you, sir? In the presence of ladies…”
Well, fuck.
Had he said that aloud? All of it? Hell of a thing. He had not spoken this much since…
Cora.
Double fuck.
A dark wave of memories hit him in the gut like a fist. It was time to extract himself from this cursed chair and go. He would find his brother and tell Dom this particular assignment was not for him. Loyalty and brotherly devotion had a limit. This was it. Lady Evangeline Saltisford could take her airs and her golden beauty and marry her silly fop and have his heir and spare and then cry into her embroidered handkerchief when she discovered he had a mistress.
He stood, narrowly hauling himself from betwixt the polished arms of the mahogany chair of death, and bowed. Devil knew he ought to say something. Likely an apology. But in the end, he couldn’t be bothered. He stalked from the drawing room with Lady Evangeline Saltisford’s indignation trailing after him.
Along with her scent.
She smelled like a damned fruit, sweet and ripe.
Curse her.
Chapter Two
“I know you are hopelessly in love with your husband, Addy, but this farce cannot continue.”
Evie paused in practicing the delivery of her speech to the cheval glass in her chamber, studying her reflection. Did she look angry? That would never do. She knew her twin. Addy did not like strife. Evie would need to be calm. Cool. Soft, even.
She took a deep breath and then made another attempt.
“After the improper manner in which he referred to Lord Denton yesterday, you cannot possibly expect me to suffer Mr. Winter’s presence.”
No.
That would not do either. Addy was quite protective of her new husband’s family. Because her sister possessed a heart of gold, it did not matter to Addy that the branch of the Winter family she had married into was scandalous. That their accents and lack of proper manners gave their upbringing in the rookery away. No, indeed. She believed it an excellent idea to bring more of them to Mayfair.
One great, surly beast in particular.
Devil Winter.
Nay, Evie refused to think of him as such. Instead, she would think of him as Mr. Nothing. And one could only hope that soon enough he would be nothing in her life, returned to the gaming hell where he belonged, along with his disturbingly blue eyes and the wickedest lips she had ever seen upon a man.
Why did he have to be so…
Oh, bother. She would not think it.
Another slow, deep breath, and she tried again.
“I know you are only concerned for me, my dearest sister. However, I am certain the shot that was fired in the park was not meant—”
Her words died.
Because in the next moment, the world exploded. Everything seemed to happen, all at once.