Page 41 of The Duke and the Darkness

No, he wanted to see how she would react when faced with the past. If she could maneuver her way through tonight’s reminders of that, then perhaps she could find a way to move into the future.

“And you should attend the picture gallery at Somerset House,” Meg insisted. “It’s always good for a gawk.”

Peyton smiled, seeming to enjoy Meg’s company, and drawled almost beneath her breath, “Sometimes even at the paintings.”

But Peyton was sitting to Meg’s left side, and his sister couldn’t hear her comment, even though his mother and Teddy both laughed at the quip. Meg blinked. “Pardon?”

Peyton repeated louder, “Sometimes to even gawk at the paintings.”

Meg laughed with them then, the happy sound filling the room.

Devlin glanced up from the table as Jennings stepped into the room and stood at the wall near the door, his well-trained butler’s presence as unobtrusive as ever. Yet his appearance signaled that the coffee service was ready in the drawing room.

A lull formed in the conversation as his two sisters searched the corners of their minds to add to the growing list of places and things Peyton simply must do during her visit. Before they could inundate her afresh with questions about whether she planned on traveling to Brighton or Weymouth once the London season was over, his mother placed her napkin on her plate. “Shall we go through, then? Jennings’s coffee is not to be missed.”

The normally staid butler flushed faintly at the compliment.

“And Cook’s chocolate,” Teddy interjected as she slipped off her chair and stood. “She makes the best in Mayfair.”

“Chocolate is for children,” Meg baited her as she rose elegantly from her chair.

As Devlin rose to his feet, familiar guilt pricked him. Meg should have been married by now, but their father’s ghost still haunted her. She didn’t trust a man enough to marry him.

“Good,” Teddy called out over her shoulder as her sister followed her from the room. “Then I’ll take your share and enjoy twice as much!”

His mother gave a long-suffering sigh as she followed after, leaving Devlin to escort their guest.

Devlin saw relief drain through Peyton as her slender shoulders sank at finally having a moment’s peace—and a moment when she didn’t have to be on constant guard that his mother would recognize her.

“You’re doing well,” he assured her quietly as he slowly circled the large table to her.

“Is this how they used to torture prisoners in the Tower?” she muttered and drew in a deep breath to gather herself.

His lips curled. “Just a typical evening at Dartmoor House. But look on the bright side.” He took her arm to escort her from the room. “At least now you have an exhaustive list of places to visit while you’re in London.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“And the knowledge that you won’t easily be recognized,” he murmured into her ear, “if at all.”

“There is that,” she grudgingly agreed and walked with him into the stair hall.

Instead of following his family, Devlin tugged her aside into the alcove beneath the cantilevered stairs curling above their heads. His mother had placed a Chinese urn on a small table to give some sort of use to the otherwise wasted space, but shadowed and tucked out of the way, it also gave them a moment’s privacy.

“How are you holding up?” he asked. “Truthfully.”

“Truthfully?” She gave a long sigh. “If I wasn’t already dead, this evening would kill me.”

A chuckle rose from the back of his throat. He knew then that she would be fine.Eventually.

“How much longer will this evening last?” she asked, glancing past his shoulder at the empty hall.

“Another hour, and then you can feign a headache and beg off. Deal?”

“Deal.” Yet his compromise didn’t seem to please her. She hesitated before asking, “How long has Margaret been deaf in her left ear?”

Devlin’s chest squeezed, although he shouldn’t have been surprised that Peyton noticed, not with how keen she was on noting everything around her. “Since she was ten.”

“An accident or illness?”