Duke Of Darkness. Anabelle BryantЧитать онлайн книгу.
to love sugar as he did. It required him to keep a rigorous schedule of exercise in order to avoid extra weight. Alexandra seemed to support all her weight in the very best places. She was slim but not without appreciative curves. He turned to his brandy with forced interest.
“What was it you wished to speak to me about, Devlin?”
Her use of his Christian name jolted him to attention and the liquor in his glass almost splashed over the rim.
Best have it out. Alexandra had to possess some idea, now that Aunt Min passed on. Perhaps Min had told her of the plan. Likely all this fretful consideration was for naught. He should state the facts and get on with it.
“Devlin?”
He realized he sat staring at the biscuit as if he’d never seen one before, lost in concentration about how to proceed until her soft-spoken enquiry broke him loose. He liked the sound of his name on her lips.
“We should discuss your relationship with my aunt. Her note was brief and her passing has ramifications. There is the will, of course, and the estate that reverts to me, but another matter exists.” His voice held a note of urgency that he fought to conceal. “In regard to your position and future.”
It was too much to hope she would supply the words to excuse him from the bitter explanation. If she already knew he’d been named her guardian, forced to relocate to Kenley Manor, much emotion and discussion could be avoided. Avoiding emotion was one of the things he did best. He finished the biscuit and reached for another.
“I’m not sure I understand. As you are aware, I served as your aunt companion’s for over two years. It was a very enjoyable time.” Alexandra dropped her eyes to her lap then picked up her dessert plate in a hesitant motion. She took another bite of the sugar biscuit before wiping her mouth daintily with the linen napkin. “At only one and twenty, I could look for another position.”
So very young. “What of your family, Lexi?”
Her lovely blue eyes flicked to his at the shortened form of her name, but she did not offer a remark. Devlin swore he saw the corner of her mouth curl.
“Oh, I really have no ties. That’s how I came to The Willows. I should seek another companion position with haste.”
He chose his words with caution. “Perhaps I am here to offer you a solution.” She would not like his next statement. He attacked another biscuit, determined to have out with it now.
“My solicitor met with me only days ago in regard to my aunt’s will. Everything was in order and, if you are not aware, Min arranged for a large settlement on your behalf.” Her only indication of surprise was the lift of her elegant brows. If he was a wagering man, and he never wagered, he’d bet it all she had no idea, and yet an even larger surprise awaited. She commented before he finished the thought.
“Your aunt was very generous. Her concern for my welfare proved she kept my best interest at heart.” Alexandra took another sip of her tea. Her eyes reflected genuine sorrow.
Devlin cursed under his breath. Having no family to speak of, the girl was truly alone. If he hadn’t arrived, if Aunt Min hadn’t arranged his guardianship…with disgust his feeble reasoning did little to assuage the statement he needed to deliver.
They both reached for the last biscuit at the same time. For a moment, they simply stared at each other and a subtle silent communication passed between them. Devlin wished he could read her mind, so clear were her eyes. Then she grinned at him, that troublesome dimple making an appearance, and she snapped the biscuit in half. They shared a chuckle and he returned her smile in kind. He doubted she would be smiling in another minute, though.
“I take it you are unaware my aunt arranged for your guardianship? For you to become my ward until such time as a suitable marriage can be arranged?” He spoke with tentative caution so one could only assume he was no more pleased with the delivery of the news than she might be.
Alexandra coughed, choking on the remainder of the biscuit.
Grimley’s timely appearance served to relieve the tension in the room. He swept in with the grace of an ever efficient servant and made quick work of clearing the service. Alexandra and Devlin sat in silence. And then her noisy little dog reappeared and launched himself upon the settee, failing miserably and flailing backwards. He rebounded and tried again, until Alexandra took pity and lifted the dog to her lap to stroke his fur. The pup answered with an eager jump to lick her chin.
Grimley left soon after, the only sound now the panting of a ridiculously energetic terrier.
“Just Henry seems to think you are his dessert.” Devlin envied the little animal. His declaration had chased away all conviviality and Just Henry remained a welcomed addition to the room, unlike himself.
“I must tell you, Your Grace, I’m surprised by your news.”
So he was Your Grace again. He grimaced, aware he needed to explain the more intricate details of the request within the documents he’d received.
Alexandra rose to pace the room, dumping Just Henry unceremoniously at her feet. “Marriage? And that is a condition to the settlement?”
“I believe it would serve as your dowry, the use of the money to be determined by your betrothed.”
Alexandra scoffed, a flush of anger warming her cheeks. So lovely. Who would have guessed Aunt Min kept such a stunning English rose hidden away at The Willows?
“And I am to accept this? I have no say in my future again.” Emotion riddled each word as she paced, her black skirts swishing around the panting dog who matched her every step.
Ah, so the English rose did have a past. It was an interesting twist in the unfolding story. He watched her strides slow, could almost see her mind at work. Truly, he’d underestimated her intelligence.
A determined glint lit her enchanting blue eyes as she strode forward. “I don’t accept. I refuse.”
She stated the five words as if they weren’t laughable and, devil take him, he laughed. He transformed the misplaced reaction with a gruff cough and regained his composure in a swift act of better judgement. “I don’t believe you have a choice. Not only was it my aunt’s dying wish, but it is legally binding. You are now my responsibility.”
Her answer clipped the final syllables of his response. “I’ll wager you for my freedom.”
“What?” He almost missed her meaning, ensconced in determining how she would fit within his unusual existence. “Oh, I never wager. Sorry, Lexi. It is what it is.”
“Don’t call me that, Your Grace. You claim I am your charge now. I would prefer Lady Alexandra.”
An aborted snort of amusement escaped before he could think better of it.
“That was uncalled for.”
Wounded eyes glanced in his direction and an apology bloomed on his tongue. Ridiculous. The Duke of Wharncliffe never apologized.
Yet she persisted.
“One game of chess. Or the best out of three. Winner decides my future.”
With due understanding, she would not let the matter drop, but her challenge immediately gained his attention. “You play chess?” Now that intrigued him. “How did you come by the skill?” He strode to the chess table near the far window and palmed the black king. He always played black. He always won. Hadn’t found an opponent yet daring enough to take the risks he did with his pieces. And so the game grew stale. Even he didn’t like to win every time. Where lay the challenge in that?
“Your aunt taught me, of course. We played often.”
His brow climbed in question. Aunt Min despised chess. Or at least she led him to believe it so. True, one’s interests could change over time. Temptation whispered in his ear. He hadn’t had a good opponent in ages. How well could she play? He surveyed her stance near the fireplace. She met his assessment with an inborn