Page 75 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

“Does Odham know why this masquerade has been enacted?” Adrian asked through his teeth.

Jane shrugged. “Julia was supposed to tell him, but I’m not sure whether she made it past Heath’s guard.”

He frowned at her. “Isn’t Odham in love with Hermia? How am I supposed to explain—”

“Into your carriage, my little flower of mischief,” Odham said, slipping his arm conspiratorially into Adrian’s. “Wonderful performance, Wolverton. It does remind me of my rakehell days. A little disguise only enhances desire, eh?”

Adrian suddenly found himself spirited across the street and into the earl’s waiting carriage. He barely managed to wrench off his pumps before Odham pushed him onto the seat, rapped his knuckles against the roof, and the driver urged his two grays into a smart trot.

Odham stamped his foot in glee. “We’ve done it! This is the most fun I’ve had in decades. Hermia has always been known for her daring. Heaven help me, Wolverton, the woman drives me mad, I tell you. And now I’ve tipped the scales in my favor.”

Adrian pulled the cloaked hood from his head, his expression morose. “I don’t wish to appear rude. Obviously I am indebted to you for life. However, I must ask—have we ever met before?”

The earl’s dark brown eyes lit up. “Speaking as one scoundrel to another—does it really matter?”

Adrian grunted and glanced out the carriage window. Jane stood on the sidewalk, a satisfied smile on her face. A tall man emerged from the house. He could not tell which of the Boscastle brothers it was. But one thing was certain, the devious Jane would undoubtedly keep him at bay.

And tomorrow there would be the devil to pay.

Heath stood behind his sister-in-law Jane, both of them watching the carriage bowl away into the night. A horrible suspicion entered his mind. What had he just witnessed? An escape? It wasn’t possible. At length, Jane turned to him, sighing deeply. “It’s late, isn’t it? I should be putting my son to bed. Is Grayson with Drake?”

Heath stared at the receding carriage. A reluctant smile flitted across his face. “As far as I know he is still upstairs.”

Jane glanced up at him, a remarkably convincing actress. “Upstairs? Doing what? I thought you held your male cabals in your study.”

An amused female voice called out behind them. “What have I missed that you two are whispering together?”

Heath pivoted. His heart never failed to lift at his wife’s presence. Even if, as he was beginning to suspect, Julia and the other ladies of the family had outfoxed him.

He shook his head. No. It couldn’t be, but—“Where is Aunt Hermia?”

Julia came down the steps and laid her head on his shoulder. “She’s still upstairs with Emma, I think.”

“But Devon said—who just left in Odham’s coach?”

Jane sailed past him back to the house. “Odham, of course. I shouldn’t think you would need to ask.”

Heath’s mouth tightened. “But I thought that Hermia—”

Julia drew away from him with a frown. “Hermia is with Emma, Heath. If you are worried about her, I’m sure she would not mind reassuring you that she is in good health, although I understand that her throat hurt earlier in the evening.”

“I see,” Heath murmured.

He walked slowly back into his house, then up the stairs to the hall to come to stand at the closed door of Emma’s suite. It was there, a minute or so later, that his brother Grayson found him.

“I say we storm her room,” Grayson said, his fist raised to the door. “This has gone on long enough. Wolverton cannot hide in there forever.”

Heath shook his head. A wise man knew when to lay down his hand. “Be my guest, Grayson. I would prefer, however, that you not break the door.”

Grayson pounded on the door.

It was Emma who answered, her brow furrowed in agitation. “Grayson,” she said in annoyance, “whatever is the matter that you are making such an ungodly noise? Is someone ill?”

He pushed around her into the room. “Why doesn’t Adrian come out of hiding and answer that question himself? Is he in your closet?”

She looked affronted. “Grayson Boscastle. I absolutely forbid you to take another step.”

He froze, such was the power of her command. “I do not blame you, Emma,” he said after a moment. “Wolverton is an alluring man. Duke’s heir or not, however, he will be made to—”