Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

We are no more than six feet from him, Roxanne thought, staring into those unbelievable violet eyes, which, she saw, held concern for his wife and good manners toward his doubtless unwanted guests.

“Yes, we are,” Sophie said, and to Roxanne’s eyes, she appeared unaffected by this god of a man. “I agree, Corrie is a heroine. However, I believe we have come at a particularly bad time. We will take our leave.”

“Oh, no,” Corrie said. “I am feeling quite fine now. Willicombe, please fetch us some cakes and tea. James, will you remain, or have you an engagement?”

He eyed her, seemed reassured. “I am meeting Father at Signore Ricalli’s. Mother might be there as well. She told me she needed to polish her fencing skills. You’ve never seen her fence, Corrie, she’s really rather good, fast as a flea, hops around my father, makes him curse and laugh. Try not to throw up on your slippers, sweetheart.

Your maid told me three pairs have already been sent to the dustbin.”

“I simply can’t figure out how I manage to do that, I mean, my skirts stick out a good five feet,” Corrie said, and took a quick look at her favorite Pomona green slippers. Not this time, thank the good Lord.

“You have big feet.”

She threw a pillow at him, which he plucked out of the air not six inches from his perfect nose. She said, “There is no reason to tell our guests all of my defects on their first visit. Now, after I have given you your heir, I should like to polish my fencing skills as well.”

“Why not? I like your feet, they’re substantial, they can waltz for hours, and I imagine they will support your growing weight.”

“Your wit fells me, James.” She threw another pillow at him when he laughed. He caught it as well, and tossed it back to her, smiled at all the ladies, and walked out of the drawing room, whistling.

“Sometimes I want to clout him,” Corrie said, smiling comfortably at both of them. “But he makes me laugh, you see, so what am I to do?” She sat forward in her chair, eyes sparkling, yet she’d been violently ill only five minutes before. “So tell me what you think of my vampire.”

Truth be told, Roxanne would have rather spoken at great length about Corrie’s husband, couching her interest in questions about his lordship’s work in astronomy, but it was not to be. Roxanne gave it up. “Ah, Devlin. He does enjoy shocking people, curdling their innards when he talks about otherworldly bloodletting, giving them little frissons of dread when he looks pointedly at their necks. All in all, I should have to say I find Devlin Monroe vastly amusing. How long has he been playing this role?”

Corrie said, “I heard he read some ancient books at Oxford. There was a drawing of a vampire, and he decided he’d make a better bloodletter than the monster shown—he’d be more discreet.” She laughed.

Sophie said, “Was he not one of your beaux before you married Lord Hammersmith?”

“Mayhap, but not really, if you know what I mean. I met Devlin when I came to London last fall for my practice Season. Unfortunately, I was not granted much of one, since—well, a number of strange things happened to spur James and me into marriage.”

Sophie said, “Lady Klister confided in me that Devlin was brokenhearted when Lord Hammersmith got kidnapped and you went haring off after him and were ruined and thus forced to marry him, not Devlin.”

“Marry Devlin? That brings strange sorts of images to the mind, doesn’t it? As for Devlin being brokenhearted, that is doubtful, since James told me he keeps three mistresses—yes, indeed, three mistresses—and all at the same time—at least he did last fall. I am being scrupulously honest here, since my husband assured me it was critical to our child’s future sense of morality.”

Roxanne was riveted. “Three mistresses? All at the same time? Are you certain about this? I mean, how could any gentleman have the time to go from one to the other to the other to the other? It is absurd. Surely it is one of those male sorts of exaggerations.”

“To the best of my knowledge, James has never lied to me. He said I couldn’t marry Devlin because when I found out the mistresses were still in the picture, I would kill him and then be hung, and he didn’t want me to end up dead because of Devlin’s excesses. I, of course, told him since Devlin is already dead, being a vampire and all, I couldn’t be hung.”

Roxanne was shaking her head. “I simply can’t believe it. Three, Corrie? As in three separate and different mistresses?”

Corrie gave a merry laugh. “Can you imagine? Three mistresses and a wife? The man would die of exhaustion, don’t you think?” Corrie tapped her fingers on her chair arm. “Forgive me for being indelicate. Since you are not married and do not know of marital sorts of things, I shouldn’t be speaking of—ah, but James—well, never mind that. I have known Lord Hammersmith since I was three years old. I know all his habits, good and rotten. Since the scales tip in his favor, I have no regrets. However, I envy both of you. You can sow wild oats until the bucket is empty, whereas I must be a proper wife and become fat.” She burst into tears.

Roxanne quickly rose and walked to sit beside Corrie, and pulled her into her arms. “It will be all right.” Pat, pat, pat. “Surely your husband does not have all that many rotten habits, and since you know all of them, you must also know how to punish him when he backslides into them. There is another thing about your husband—you can also simply sit and look at him, and surely that would bring great pleasure.”

Corrie pulled back. “Forgive me, it’s not the thought of being wedded to James that makes me weep, it is the babe. I burst into tears upon being presented to his majesty the king. He was quite without a word to say. My papa-in-law told his majesty the babe, even unborn, was so overcome in his presence, he made his mother weep.

“You cannot imagine the ruckus that caused. My papa-in-law laughed for a good week. About my husband, you’re right, Roxanne. I particularly like to look at him when he’s sleeping. Every contrary sin he’s committed during the day simply disappears when the candlelight flickers over his lovely self. I try and try, but I can only remain angry with him when I am at least one room away.”

“Not strange at all, I should think,” Roxanne said. “You feel all right now, Corrie?”

“Oh, yes, it comes and goes, as I said. Now, that is quite enough about me. I want to know about you and Sophie.”

Roxanne said thoughtfully, “I was considering staking Devlin out in the sun, to see what happens.”

Corrie sputtered her tea, wiped her chin, and grinned. “What an amazing idea. How I wish I’d thought of it. When can we do it?”

Sophie laughed. “How about I suggest to him that he take me out on the Thames at the Marksbury garden party on Saturday? I will feed him a sleeping draught and row back to shore. The three of us will remove him to a far part of the gardens and stake him out.”

“It will rain on Saturday.”