Notorious. Nicola Cornick
advantages that you lack, Sir James, including good manners.”
“Once a knave,” Dev murmured, without any hint of apology. There was a glimmer of wickedness in his eyes. “But you knew that about me already, Lady Carew. You know all my secrets.”
“I have no ambition to know anything about you, Sir James,” Susanna said coldly. Her heart was beating a warning; how much would he risk, how much would he reveal?
“You must think yourself fascinating indeed to make yourself the subject of the conversation,” she said.
She could see what Dev was trying to do: he wanted to suggest to Fitz that there was more to her than met the eye, that she had a checkered rather than a romantically mysterious past, that she had been his mistress, even. He wanted to imply that whilst she might be a rich widow now she was not the sort of person a marquis would marry, especially when there was the far more suitable virginal debutante Miss Francesca Devlin waiting patiently in the wings …
“Lady Emma not with you today, Devlin?” Fitz asked pointedly. He tightened his grip on Susanna’s arm. Susanna found she did not like it but resisted the urge to pull away, instead smiling sweetly at Fitz and moving close enough to brush her body against his.
“No,” Dev said. “Emma dislikes horses unless they are doing something functional such as pulling her carriage.” He bowed, a sardonic light lurking in his eyes. “I can see that I am de trop here. I will leave you to throw your money away on a racehorse, Lady Carew.”
“How thoughtful of you,” Susanna said. “Good day, Sir James.”
She could feel the tension in Fitz’s body as they stood together watching Dev stroll away.
“I say, Lady Carew,” Fitz said, turning to look down at her, “Devlin is most frightfully disrespectful to you. Are you sure there is nothing more between the two of you than old acquaintance?”
Mentally cursing Dev and his meddling, Susanna plastered on her most convincing smile. “I met Sir James on his cousin’s estate at Balvenie in Scotland when I was little more than a child, my lord,” she said. “I am afraid I did not like him and I made the mistake of letting it show. Even then Sir James was insufferably conceited and wanted all the ladies to fall at his feet. He has never forgiven me that I did not.”
She had not fallen at his feet; she had fallen into his bed. But Fitz was smiling, she saw with relief. “Grant’s estate, eh?” he said. “Sound fellow, Grant, but barely a feather to fly. The whole family is ramshackle. There’s no breeding to speak of and bad blood in the Devlin family.”
Susanna was surprised to hear him dismiss Chessie thus, especially when his attentions to her had been so marked and could surely have been nothing but honorable. But it augured well for her own plans. Chessie was as good as defeated already and none of Dev’s interference could change that.
She smiled prettily, squeezing Fitz’s arm. “I wonder if you have the time to accompany me to the wine merchant, my lord?” she said. “I require to purchase a special gift of champagne and I know you have a knowledge of the best vintage.”
Fitz looked gratified and Susanna, her gaze falling on one of the shovels used to clear out the horseboxes, wondered just how thickly she would have to lay on the flattery before he became suspicious of her. Dev’s stringent wit and intelligence would have demolished her in an instant but there seemed to be no limit to the Marquis of Alton’s self-regard.
“Delighted, Lady Carew,” Fitz said. “And afterward perhaps we may celebrate with a glass together, eh?” His smile was vulpine. “I should enjoy that a great deal, just the two of us.”
“That would be splendid, thank you,” Susanna murmured. “I very much appreciate having a friend to lean upon when I am so new to London.” She slipped her hand from Fitz’s arm and walked a little ahead of him so that he could appreciate the sway of her hips beneath the luxurious fall of the velvet riding habit. She could feel Fitz’s eyes on her—and sense, too, his frustration that once again she had taken a step back from the intimacy he was trying to create between them. Frustration bred eagerness, and that was exactly what she wanted from him. Smiling, she turned the corner of the yard and walked straight into Devlin, who was lounging against the doorway, an appreciative gleam in his eyes.
“Beautifully done, Susanna,” he whispered. His breath stirred the tendrils of hair that had escaped from beneath her hat. She felt them brush her cheek with the lightest caress. “What a lot of practice you must have had in the art of seduction.”
“Endless amounts,” Susanna agreed. She saw that Fitz had stopped for a final word with Richard Tattersall and cursed the delay. The last thing she wanted to do was reengage with Dev again and to give him another opportunity to undo all her good work.
“I thought that you had gone,” she seethed.
“Alas, I could not tear myself away,” Dev said. “I felt an almost overwhelming desire to see in action the methods employed by the modern adventuress.” He smiled straight into her eyes. “You are a consummate professional, Susanna.”
“And you are a damned nuisance,” Susanna snapped.
Dev kissed her fingers. She tried to withdraw her hand but he held her tight. His touch seared her even through the material of her glove. Her palm tingled.
“Choose another victim,” he murmured. “You could have anyone. Leave Fitz alone.”
“No,” Susanna said. “It is Fitz that I want.”
Something flared in Dev’s eyes, something dark and dangerous and hot. It held her captive whilst her pulse raced and her stomach tumbled.
“Liar,” he said. “It’s me that you still want.”
Susanna raised her chin. It might be true that she was still damnably susceptible to him but it was also time to give him a magnificent setdown. “You are mistaken, Sir James,” she said sweetly. “You are so conceited that you have come to believe yourself irresistible.” She flicked her hand from his grasp. “You might do very well for Lady Emma Brooke as she is clearly too young to know any better,” she continued. “But I assure you that rich widows can do a sight better than a penniless fortune hunter.”
“I did not mean that you wanted to marry me—again,” Dev said pleasantly. His gaze fell to her mouth, lingered there. “I meant that you wanted to—”
“To see the back of you,” Susanna said. “Very quickly. Don’t make trouble for me,” she added, “unless you wish me to do the same for you.”
Dev laughed. “I look forward to it.” He nodded to her. “Good luck, Lady Carew.”
“I don’t need luck,” Susanna said. “I have skill. Hurry back to your winsome heiress,” she added, “before some other unprincipled adventurer steals her from you.”
Dev nodded. “Advice from the best.” He bowed. “Your servant, Lady Carew.”
“I do not believe that for a moment,” Susanna said.
The laughter fled Dev’s eyes. “Once I was yours to command, Susanna,” he said. “All yours and no one else’s.” He raised a hand in farewell and walked away, leaving Susanna feeling shaken by a minor earthquake. For in that moment she knew Dev had spoken the truth. He had been hers and she had destroyed everything that had been between them and she would never have that again.
CHAPTER FIVE
THERE WAS NOTHING, DEV thought, quite like a group of ill-assorted people who did not enjoy one another’s company pretending to be having a marvelous time. It was raining, they were in St. Paul’s Cathedral and they were looking at tombs because Susanna had expressed a wish to see some of the more esoteric sights of London. Dev had wondered what the hell she was playing at—until he had overheard Fitz praising her for her intelligence as well as her beauty. Cunning jade. Fitz was pretty stupid himself, Dev thought,