Page 95 of A Lady of Means
Devyn stared over at him.“Did you?”Took a sip of his fresh drink, becausegod damn it, calling himMoria’s Dukeeven in his head after making his fiancé moan his name?He should feel guilt, shame, maybe; but he didn’t.
And that was the roughest part of it all.She’d been there too, she’d been willing, they’d both wanted it.God, he’d nearly died with her name on his lips.But having her fiancé sitting next to him an hour later was not where he’d thought this night was going to go.
Devyn looked at Perry, who mouthed: “Sorry,” in his direction.
The Duke was talking.Several others in his party had wandered over.Apparently, he and Perry knew each other from Cambridge.Perry was the one who’d told His Grace, The Duke of Stolen Fiancés, that Devyn had gone down.For a second there, he’d thought Moria had mentioned it.He should have known better.
So now, here he was.An injured captain who’d given up the commission and leadership he’d trained and bled for, sitting next to the man who’d done what Devyn should have done.She deserved someone who’d choose her.That’s what the Duke had done, not Devyn.
“Glad you made it out, Captain,” The Duke said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
Devyn raised a brow.
“Alright, you’re… not a verbose man,” the Duke said, looking over at Perry for some sort of commiseration.
Devyn’s jaw clenched.Did this man misreadherlike he misread Devyn?Was he thick or just self-absorbed?Devyn felt anger spreading through his body like poison.
Someone called to him, the Duke held up a finger.“Clairville?You joining us for the stag party, or is your brother playing chaperone tonight?”
Perry met his eyes, chewed on his lip.
From behind the Duke’s back, Devyn mouthedStag Party?With incredulity.
It was Calum who spoke first.“Well, Yer Grace, ye won’t believe it actually, but I got meself engaged as well.Captain,” he said, giving Devyn a wink, “is takin’ me out for me own stag party tonight so I’m sure ye won’t mourn our absence.”
His Disgrace looked at Devyn’s best friend as though taking him in for the first time.“Oh, don’t tell me you’re the fellow Miss Dempsey is engaged to?”
The Duke called for a footman to bring another round of drinks.Calum tried to put him off, but the Duke wouldn’t hear of it.An empty display of power and generosity for an audience who could not have cared less, Devyn thought.
The Pompous Duke shook his head, “Lady Moria told me that her maid was leaving for…” he leaned closer to Devyn’s best friend until he felt Devyn’s glare and pulled back with a grimace.“You’ll forgive my future wife, ‘a redheaded Scottish soldier every bit as besotted as he is broad shouldered,’ is the description she gave.And I’ll tell you something,” he paused to take a drink from a tray proffered between them, “People can say all kinds of things about her, but she’s been more excited to plan Ella’s wedding, and to see her happy.I’m sure your Ella is a most deserving young lady.”
Devyn couldn’t hear any more.He stood, walking away from the table and the assembly in his brother’s club, without so much as a by-your-leave from the Duke.
“Peculiar though,” the Duke’s voice raised, stopping Devyn in his tracks.“She told me that Ella was marrying a Captain.Promoted after the former Captain was killed in action.But Clairville, you said your brother was the Captain, and this man is only a Lieutenant.”
Fuck.
Devyn blew some air out of his mouth.He read the other man’s face for signs of knowing, that look on a person’s face when they’ve registered something and you’ve been caught out.Couldn’t.His anger and loathing that they had come to this made it hard for him to be objective, the way a captain in Her Majesty’s Army had to be.He wasn’t one anymore.Guess that was for the best, then.He could get a dishonorable discharge or worse for what he was about to do.
Devyn threw his cane, Calum caught it in one quick hand.
“You want some fucking prize?”Devyn was standing so close to the Duke, his height and size making a natural buffer.A vein pulsed in Devyn’s neck, his forehead.
The Duke shook his head, didn’t back down or look away.“Think I’ve already got it,” he said, taking a sip of his drink as he kept his eyes locked on Devyn’s.
If Devyn had been standing at a cliff, contemplating jumping, what he did next was the equivalent to throwing his arms wide and taking a leap.Because Moria was not a prize for some arrogant toff and he’d lay his body down right here in some overly decorated club to prove there was no price he wouldn’t pay for her honor.
Devyn felt his muscles stretch and constrict as he reared back, planted his feet, and prepared to slam his cannon-sized fist into a Duke’s face.He was already going to lose her, had probably already lost her, so whatever came next, he was prepared for.
Only, he was prepared to make the other man bleed.
He wasn’t prepared for his best friend to wrap his own hand around Devyn’s, and for Peregrine and some other man he couldn’t see, to pull him back.
Lawrence Pembrooke tightened his hold on Devyn.“You and me, we’re going to have a little chat.My brother’s club.Tomorrow.Noon.”And backed him outside to a waiting carriage.
ChapterThirty-Nine
For days,the weight of both her Burn Book being publicly consumed, as well as her own secret reunion at the masked ball, held her down like it had strong hands pushing her under water.
