Page 61 of The Devil to Pay

“Well, what the devil did you do? They hated the sight of each other, he wanted me dead, or at least disgraced, and he came here with the intention of wrecking my life. What did you do, Davenport?”

She shrugged, picking up two more glasses. “Nothing really. Just talked some sense into them.”

Jules watched her as she crossed the room and handed the drinks to the star-crossed lovers, shaking his head in amazement.

“Why are you looking at me so oddly?” she demanded, as she returned to his side.

“Because, my darling Boadicea, I shall never cease to be amazed by you. Not if I live to be hundred. You are the most remarkable female I have ever met. As if anyone but you could have talked sense into that pair.”

“Such flummery,” she said, sounding a little exasperated, but the little tinge of pink still lingering in her cheeks told him she liked it all the same.

“It’s no more than the truth. Now, do you mean to tell me that you have really reconciled those two, and Lord Haversham is not going to take me to court?”

“Of course he isn’t taking you to court. As if I would allow him to do such a ridiculous and ill-advised thing,” she said hotly. “Though, really, my lord, after all I have read about you in the past months' scandal sheets, it’s a wonder you’ve not landed there long before this. I cannot pretend I am not heartily ashamed of you. Your behaviour has been shocking and not at all what I would expect of a man I…” She broke off, staring at him with such an expression of regret his chest hurt.

“Yes, Boadicea?” he said softly, gazing down at her. His heart was hammering with fear, with the horrible realisation she might not forgive him, but what had she been going to say? A man she what?

She set her mouth in a firm line and shook her head. “Never mind.”

“But I do mind. You were giving me a well-deserved scolding. Don’t stop now.”

She sent him a look of sheer exasperation. Jules grinned at her.

“There’s no talking to you,” she told him crossly, picking up her drink and stalking out of the room.

Jules downed his in one large swallow, certain he was going to need a little bolstering, and hurried after her. She encountered Polly as she crossed the hall and, as was her way, began issuing orders.

“Polly, make sure no one enters my private parlour anytime soon, please, oh, and don’t forget to ensure Hubert’s valet’s room has a good fire blazing. You know what he’s like for catching chills and then Hubert will sulk if the silly fellow is laid up in bed and his cravats aren’t just as he likes them.”

“Yes, miss,” Polly said, and hurried to the servant’s staircase.

She had almost reached the library door when Owen, the footman, appeared. “Begging your pardon, miss, but Jacob had ordered the gig be made ready and—”

“In this weather? With his chest? I should think not,” she said indignantly. “He may not care if I have to sit up all hours nursing him, but I don’t relish the idea. He may take the carriage or stay home, and you may tell him to come to me if he doesn’t like it. Foolish boy.”

“Very good, miss. Also, I don’t like to mention it, but Mrs Hilson has dozed off and—”

“And you may take Benjamin to Miss Abigail and tell her to look after him until she wakes up, Owen,” Jules said firmly.

Davenport swung around, glaring at him in outrage. Jules winked at the footman, who grinned at him. “Yes, my lord,” he said, and hurried off.

“How dare you!” she exclaimed. “How dare you interfere in the running of my household?”

“I know, it was very bad of me,” he said soothingly. “Now, come into the library so you can scold me properly without anyone hearing. A fellow has his pride, you know.”

Davenport made a sound of outrage. “Ha! You’ve enough pride to fill an East Indiaman!” she shot back.

“True enough. Born to be a duke, you see. Comes with the territory, I’m afraid,” he said, ushering her into the library and closing the door firmly behind them.

“That does not give you the right to give orders in my house!”

“But it’s not your house, love, no matter how magnificently you run it. For the moment, it is your father’s, and then it will be your brother’s. Assuming the fool hasn’t lost everything by that time for I don’t reckon that day is so far off even now.”

She paled, looking up at him with hurt in her eyes. “You think I don’t know that?”

He moved closer to her, and she backed up, moving away as he prowled closer, until she found herself with a shelf full of books at her back and could go no farther.

“Of course you know it,” he said gently. “But you deserve so much more than this. You deserve a home of your own, an estate that is worthy of your full attention, a family who appreciates just how wonderful you are and a husband… a husband who would love and honour you, who would stand with you and share the burden, not wrest it from your grasp or allow you to run yourself ragged doing the work of ten men.”