Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

Roxanne looked from Manners to Leah. She began to laugh. “You were pleasant for perhaps twenty minutes, Leah. I believe that might be a record. It was difficult for you, wasn’t it? Have you got what you wanted? Manners is blaming the prince? For kidnapping me, his one true love? Such a puzzle that is, don’t you think? Will you leave us alone now? Will you leave Ravenscar, filled with news for Richard?”

Leah turned on her. “How dare you say—”

Still laughing, Roxanne turned on her heel and the room, sending Tom back to protect Manners from Leah. It was certain Leah did not believe Richard had hired Manners to kidnap her, else she wouldn’t have slapped him. So who had? At the moment, it didn’t matter.

Roxanne was hiccupping when Devlin caught her at the top of the stairs.

He took both arms in his hands, shook her slightly. “What is this? Pouffer told me you went off with Leah. What happened? Why are you laughing like this, like you feel so much pain you can’t help but laugh because there’s nothing to be done?”

She said on a sigh, “It is Leah. She believes the prince is enamored of me, and yet Manners claims the prince had me kidnapped. It is all so ridiculous, you know.” She swallowed another laugh, looked him right in his dark eyes. He knew her well, and in such a short time, and he accepted her, loved her. Roxanne took his face between her hands and kissed him hard.

Devlin said, “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

She opened her mouth and poured herself into a kiss that nearly made her teeter herself off her heeled slippers with delight.

“That’s better,” he said into her mouth, his hands stroking up and down her back, then bringing her closer.

He pressed his forehead against hers. At the sound of Leah’s voice, he said, “Do you think that voice comes from a stray nightmare?”

“I now understand why the prince hired Manners to kidnap you, Roxanne. You have played him false with his nephew. His nephew! The prince is proud, I have been told, and he is well used to violence, all know it. Did he not kill his first wife because she betrayed him?”

Roxanne smiled at him.

“I counsel you to take care, Roxanne. It appears the prince doesn’t wish to have you around, either. Who knows what he’ll do to rid himself of you.”

She waved at Devlin. “I think I would prefer to have this one, since he’s the heir to a dukedom, not a miserable merchant.”

“You’d best take care, Roxanne. After he tosses up your skirts, he’ll leave you. He keeps a score of mistresses, all know it. You have no morals at all. I am ashamed to be your sister.”

Before Roxanne could leap on her, Leah brushed past her and went down the stairs, never looking back.

“Am I deceived in you, Roxanne? Are you a lady of low moral disposition?”

His voice, his words, calmed her instantly. She smiled at him. “Well, how can I be certain when I have never before had to examine my moral disposition?”

He kissed her again. “Perhaps you are skilled at deception? Is your sister right? Have you decided to leave Julian and come to me? Ah, imagine his rage.” He kissed her again, then once more.

“I fear,” Roxanne managed, when he raised his head for a moment, “that my sister is again herself. What’s sad is that it is not a surprise.”

“No, her display of finer feelings did not last very long. A pity, but in the long scheme of things, who cares? I daresay we shall never have to see her again. Do you mind if she is not invited to our wedding?” Devlin kissed Roxanne again, picked her up, and carried her down the corridor to his bedchamber.

He stopped cold, cursed. “There are servants everywhere, probably behind every door and around every corner. No, I’m not jesting. Haven’t you noticed that Julian has more servants than he knows what to do with? You want to know why? I’ll tell you. If anyone is in trouble, if anyone can’t find a way to feed himself, or his family, Julian hires him, and when he is not here, Pouffer is to hire those in dire straits.” Devlin touched his forehead to hers. “Do you think her grace is behind that door to my right? Is she tapping her foot, wondering if I am a dishonorable sot because we are not yet married and I want to strip you naked and kiss every white inch of you?”

He cursed. “I suppose Julian is right. We must wait, that is, if you agree to wed me. Get me out of my misery, Roxanne, agree to marry me, or shoot me. Before you answer, allow me to tell you the reason I want you around me is that I love you to the breadth and length of me. You fill me with joy, Roxanne. My life is yours, and my happiness. Ah, the children we will have. Say you will be my wife, my countess.”

58

Sophie was sitting on the carpet in Julian’s estate room, laughing as she lightly rubbed Oliver’s soft ears. She looked up at Roxanne, who was pacing. “Married to Devlin—this is wonderful. I am so pleased for you. Who would have guessed, since you’ve been a self-proclaimed spinster whose only goal was to see me well placed, so filled with common sense I feared you would collapse under the weight of it. But no longer.”

Roxanne said, “No more mistresses for him. He fancies we can all be friends. That is something I must consider carefully, and probably with a great deal of humor. Yes, he’s all mine.” She paused, frowned, and sank down on the carpet beside Sophie and began to lightly pat Beatrice’s belly. “I suppose we will take one of her pups, too. No, don’t growl at me, Cletus, I’m not hurting your one and only love. Oliver, why are you growling? Are you jealous?”

Sophie smiled. “Julian is convinced

Cletus is the father, but I wonder. Oliver has been prancing about lately, looking quite proud of himself. Both he and Cletus are very possessive. Would you look at Hortense, all by herself in the corner.” Sophie rose to fetch Hortense and held her on her lap.

Roxanne said, “Devlin told me the plans for our smuggling adventure. He believes I will quite enjoy myself. He insists we both cover ourselves with black and wear masks.”

“I only wish Julian would stop worrying that something will go wrong. Nothing can go wrong, I have told him over and over. I mean, the dastardly Richard knows nothing about it, nor does anyone else, save the four of us.” She frowned. “Still, everyone hears everything in the palace.”