Page 40 of The Duke and the Darkness

Peyton intervened by taking Theodora’s hands and squeezing them. “But at least you’ll be able to attend.” She leaned forward to whisper into the girl’s ear. “And if a respectable young man very politely asks your brother for his permission to dance with you, he might just say yes.”

The girl impulsively hugged Peyton, who stiffened at the unexpected show of gratitude. Theodora stepped back but didn’t release her hands. She beamed. “Oh, you are very welcome at Dartmoor House!” Then she spun on her heel and raced from the room. “Mama! Mama, I have news!”

“Look at what you’ve done.” Devlin slid his gaze from the door to Peyton. “You’ve unleashed a monster.”

Peyton countered, “But she’s right, you know. Her first ball should be special.”

“Then you should be forced to attend with us.”

He was teasing, she knew. Yet the subtle nudge to put her further into society’s embrace spun fear through her. “No.”

Before he could say anything more, his mother, the Duchess of Dartmoor, glided into the drawing room, her hands extendedtoward Peyton in warm greeting. Behind her entered a bouncing Theodora, whose happiness over the ball was overflowing, and beside her came a pretty young woman who smiled but with a bit more trepidation than her younger sister and mother. She had to be Lady Margaret. Her resemblance to the duchess was undeniable.

“Mother.” Devlin went to Peyton’s side. “May I introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Wentworth?” He looked down at Peyton, but his face was unreadable. “Miss Wentworth, my mother, Her Grace the Duchess of Dartmoor.”

The duchess beamed at Peyton. “Welcome to Dartmoor House. We’re so happy to have you as our guest.” She placed her hand on Theodora’s shoulder to calm the girl and make her stop bouncing. “How are you finding your return to London, Miss Wentworth?”

“A bit trying, Your Grace.” That was the God’s truth. “The city has grown so much since I was last here.”

“And when was that?”

The duchess was attempting casual conversation, but Peyton found it fraught with pitfalls. “A very long time ago.” She dodged the specifics. “I was only a small girl then.”

“Well, I’m so glad we’re able to welcome back one of Devlin’s old acquaintances. Aren’t we, girls?”

Margaret smiled and murmured her agreement.

Theodora was too focused on the invitation she still clutched in her hands to notice that her mother had said anything at all.

“Miss Wentworth has spent a good deal of time in France,” Devlin commented as a way to start conversation.

“You will have to tell me all about your time there and how it compares to England,” his mother insisted congenially, “especially the fashions.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Peyton answered, “although I’m afraid I’m not very fashionable.”

“Nonsense!” The duchess cast an assessing glance over Peyton’s dress and hair. Then she stilled, her eyes narrowing on Peyton’s face. “You seem so familiar… Have we met before?”

“No, Your Grace.” Not technically a lie despite the spike of her pulse. No one knew her anymore.

But the duchess didn’t seem convinced. Peyton held her breath, waiting for the woman to remember who she was and what—

The butler came into the room and gave a low bow. “Dinner is ready, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Jennings,” Devlin called out, then gestured toward the hall. “After you, Mother.”

The group made their way through the house to the dining room, with his mother and sisters leading the way. Peyton lingered behind as she fought to calm her racing heart and steady her breathing.

Devlin briefly placed a reassuring hand to the small of her back as he led her forward. But the touch did little to put her at ease. Tonight was her greatest test of the last ten years, and God help her if she failed it.

Chapter Ten

Devlin leaned backin his chair at the head of the table and listened to his mother and sisters deliver a barrage of ideas of what Peyton should do in London during the season. They were finishing the dessert course, although he’d noticed that Peyton had done little more than push food around her plate all evening and was now doing the same with her strawberry cake.

He didn’t blame her for not having an appetite. Dinner tonight was proving to be an ordeal by fire for her, if only because it was nothing more than a typical Raines family evening. Embarrassing stories about their childhoods and assorted public faux pas as adults served as the main course, followed by extra helpings of merciless teasing and bickering. At every moment she must have been afraid of being discovered before she was ready to reveal herself—if she would ever be ready. The pallor that had gripped her face since his mother walked into the drawing room to meet her was testimony to that.

Fortunately, both he and Peyton managed to avoid specifics about how they knew each other, although Devlin was prepared to claim she was the sister of a school chum he met during holiday, if necessary.

Yet tonight wasn’t about giving Peyton a pleasant evening, nor was it the test Peyton accused him of earlier—to prove she was capable of holding her own in society. Hell, he knew she wasmore than capable of doing just that, having seen her in action at Barton’s and the opera.