Page 68 of The Duke and the Darkness

“You need someone like her anyway,” his mother clarified.

He grimaced, having been through this conversation with his mother too many times before when she’d prodded him in the direction of marriage. The reprieve he’d earned with his pursuit of Lady Catherine was apparently over. He recited the old litany. “Because she’s accomplished, refined, wealthy—”

“In pain.” His mother’s eyes turned somber. “You have suffered so much in your life, Devlin. If anyone can understand that kind of pain, I think she can.”

Devlin knew so. That same pain had drawn them into each other’s arms that morning.

But he also knew that what stood between them now wasn’t ghosts from the past but fears of the future. For both of them. He wasn’t at all certain they would be able to help each other through those dark days.

“You need someone who understands you, someone who can be your best friend and companion—”

“You’re suggesting I need a dog?” he asked, deadpan. This conversation was not going in the direction he wanted. Best to cut it short however he could, including by impertinence.

Her mouth tightened. “I’m suggesting you need a wife.”

Definitelynot in the right direction. “And you’re suggesting I consider Peyton Chandler?”

“No,” she corrected. “Not necessarily.” Her second correction made him feel no more assured than the first had. “But you need someone like her much more than you need someone like Lady Catherine.”

He bristled at that. After all, hadn’t his mother been prompting him for years to find a suitable wife? “Catherine is well-educated, polished, the daughter of an earl—she would have made a fine duchess.”

“Yes, she would have. But you need more than just a fine duchess. You need someone who understands you and challenges you. You deserve so much more than a peer’s perfect daughter.”

He arched a brow. “I deserve a peer’simperfect daughter?”

“Impertinent.” She set her tea down on the table and rose to her feet. “I’m not disappointed Lady Catherine broke off your engagement, no matter how scandalous the circumstances.” When he began to defend himself, she cut him off with a wave of her hand as she approached him. “I have heard the rumors regarding what happened that night. I am assuming the woman you visited in her private box was Peyton Chandler, because if there is athirdwoman caught up in all this, then—”

“There is not,” he said firmly and, with that, admitted to far more between him and Peyton than a simple desire to help her.

His mother knew it, too, based on the way her expression softened. “You need a true partner and a kindred soul. I’m notsaying that Miss Chandler is that woman. What I’m saying is to let your heart lead you to where you belong.” She cupped his face between her hands and emphasized her wishes for him. “Marry for love, not for a perfect duchess. You are under no obligations for the title.Absolutelynone.” She placed a kiss to his forehead, the way she’d done since he was a boy in leading strings. “But I also don’t want you to be lonely.”

He stepped back with a teasing grin he certainly didn’t feel. “How can I be lonely when I’ll have Megs and Teddy underfoot for the rest of my life?”

She pursed her lips together at that flat attempt at a joke. She returned to the settee and sank down onto the cushions, letting the subject drop, although he could tell from the determined glint in her eyes as she reached for her tea that this conversation was far from over.

“I will find a wife when the time is right,” he assured her, pressing the point to prevent any future discussion of the matter. He knew what a brilliant battle tactician his mother could be. Medieval sieges were nothing compared to her patience in wearing someone down to eventually win what she wanted. “Right now, my concern is simply being supportive of Miss Chandler. That’s all.”

“Well,” his mother murmured against the rim of her teacup as she took a sip, “I suppose it’s a moot point anyway, if Miss Chandler isn’t planning on remaining in London.”

“No,” he mumbled in quiet agreement, knowing Peyton thought her future lay elsewhere, some place far away from the ghosts of her past. “Most likely not.”

He turned on his heel and marched out of the room, praying there was enough whisky in his bottle of Bowmore to get him through the next few hours. But a sinking feeling in his gut told him there wasn’t enough whisky in all of Scotland for that.

Chapter Seventeen

Seated at asmall writing desk in the Malvern House drawing room, Peyton darted a glance at Crewe’s reflection in the wall mirror as he leaned against the arm of the settee behind her. “You’re staring again.”

“Can’t help it.” He nodded toward her and grimaced. “If you saw a ghost wrapped in silks and jewels, you’d stare, too.”

“I suppose I would,” she sighed.

She turned toward her reflection and swept another look over her hair and the jewels at her throat, at the fine silk of Margaret’s dress that had been quickly refitted for her by a very put-out dressmaker just that morning. Appropriate, she supposed. A borrowed dress to finish off a borrowed life. What would she wear tomorrow when she was once again herself?

But she felt dressed for a part in a play rather than an event in her own life. Fitting. Because tonight she played the part of bait.

The Duke of Crewe was currently her guard as she waited, hidden from sight, to make her announcement. Although he and Devlin hadn’t admitted as much, that was exactly what they were doing. The two had been inconspicuously trading off the responsibility all night so that she would never be alone, not even with Wilkins, who was faithfully in attendance somewhere in the crush of the ballroom. He’d insisted on being present tonight in order to provide as much support as possible and hadcome by the drawing room a few minutes ago to grudgingly wish her well…and to unsuccessfully talk her out of appearing at the party.

Her old friend knew she planned on revealing her identity tonight, but he knew nothing of the real reason why. He wasn’t at all happy about it, knowing that calling attention to herself would put her at further risk. But Devlin had insisted she keep the rest of their plan secret, and she knew he was right. They needed everyone in the ballroom to be shocked and surprised by tonight’s announcement. Including Wilkins.