A friend loveth for all times, and a brother is born for adversity.
King Solomon
October, ten years later
The London home of the Earl of Larkton
“Don’t dawdle, Devan.” The Earl of Larkton stood without ceremony and waved his youngest brother inside his massive study. “You’re late, and we’ve matters to discuss. There’s no sense in both of us having the entire day ruined. In order to salvage what we can of the remaining hours of daylight, I suggest you enter so we can finish this as quickly as possible.”
“Always the hospitable host. You haven’t lost your touch at charming your fellow man, Larrrkton.” Devan delivered his most insincere smile, then sauntered into the room as if it were his study and not his eldest brother’s domain.
“Will you quit calling me that?” his brother huffed. “When you mock me, you sound like a chirring grasshopper.”
“What, Larrrkton? Perhaps you’d prefer ‘Lord Larrrkton,’ or perhaps ‘my Lord Larrrkton’?”
“God save me,” Larkton mumbled under his breath.
“Earl of Larrrkton, then.”
“You are the bloodiest aggravating bastard of a brother a man could have.”
Devan counted the seconds. One. Two. Three.
“After all I’ve done for you, this is how you treat me.”
It was like clockwork. Three seconds after the usual “bloodiest aggravating bastard of a brother” comment, the dull but mandatory “how you treat me” always followed.
London at large could set their clocks and time pieces to Devan’s brother’s exclamations.
Mr. Devan Farris, the most dutiful vicar in the whole of London if he did say so himself—wait—in all of Great Britain—made himself at home, then reclined in the well-worn leather chair in front of the desk belonging to his brother, Gavin Farris, the Earl of Larkton.
“This is for you,” Gavin said as he handed a leaded crystal glass to Devan.
He took a sip of the excellent brandy, then sighed his contentment. “Where are the others?”
“Your brothers, Hearne and Niall, have taken Elizabeth out shopping.” Larkton eased himself into his desk chair and surveyed Devan from head to foot. “Your sister wanted you to take her. She says she enjoys your company when you escort her. Apparently, she likes your tastes in gowns.”
“High praise from Elizabeth,” Devan acknowledged. “I have a much better sense of fashion than anyone else in the family.” Too bad that all his talent was wasted since he was a member of the clergy, and they were expected to wear black.
“Spare me,” his brother muttered. “I’ve news for you.”
Devan took another sip, knowing that Larkton waited for him to show a least a hint of interest, but Devan wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that his curiosity was piqued.
Larkton drummed his fingers on the desk, then picked up his brandy and downed the rest of it. His face twisted into a scowl that no doubt resulted from the liquid burning his throat. “I’ve a new assignment for you.”
“New assignment?” That made Devan sit up and take notice. “Why?”
Larkton opened up the top desk drawer, then threw a copy of The Midnight Cryer to the edge of his desk. “Read it.”
Expecting to find a scathing article about himself seducing a milkmaid in the wilds of Northumberland where he was currently assigned to a parish, Devan scanned the rest of the articles, until one small tidbit caught his eye.
LADY CANDLEWICK IS INCREASING HER FLOCK OF LITTLE LOST DOVES WHO’VE DECIDED TO FLY THE COOP.
Devan wanted to roll his eyes at the name of Candlewick. Everyone within London who was anyone called Lady Avalon Warwyk Lady Warlock behind her back. He should know. He was the one who’d penned the name. At first, he’d called her that when she’d cruelly jilted his best friend, Will Cavensham. But it had turned into a name of honor after that day when he’d seen her face the humiliation of her husband’s ridicule. Avalon Warwyk had shown a strength of character the likes he’d never seen before.
“Since there isn’t a single scintillating article describing my exploits with the beauties of Northumberland, I wonder why you want me to read this one?” Devan released a feigned sigh of boredom, then took another sip of the brandy.
With nostrils flared, Gavin lifted a single black eyebrow. Such a look had caused numerous ladies to swoon around him. Tall, but not as athletic as Devan, Larkton could intimidate many a man with just such a look. However, Devan held an inch or two height advantage, which allowed him to look down at the earl. When they were younger, Devan could always best his oldest brother in a game of fisticuffs. He had little doubt he could do the same now.
Unfortunately, Larkton hadn’t given him reason yet to challenge him.
More’s the pity.
Thankfully, the afternoon was still young, and knowing his brother the way he did, Devan was certain—at the very least—an exchange of harsh words between them would occur within the hour. Though they cared deeply for one another as brothers, there was always a hint of Gavin’s self-assured arrogance that resulted from his status as first born swirling around them.
“Did you see the story about Lady Avalon Warwyk?” he asked.
“Lady Warlock, you mean?”
Devan’s brother nodded. “Lady Warlock—Warwyk I mean, recently settled two more prostitutes into her home village of Thistledown. I want to know why and where she’s getting the money.”
“Why do you care?” Devan challenged.
“You know why I damn well care.”
The sound that emerged from Gavin’s chest resembled a growl, like a dog ready to attack. Devan exhaled silently. That was the sign that he’d pushed Larkton too far too fast. Though his brother was only five years older than Devan’s thirty-one years, Gavin became more like an old man every day. He angered more easily than ever before. Devan would have to talk to his brothers and sister. Hopefully, the pressure of restoring the earldom to profit wasn’t taking too much of a toll on him.
“I’m the Marquess of Warwyk’s guardian, and the conservator of his estate. It’s my responsibility to ensure that the boy grows up ready to take over the marquisate. If there’s anything to take over and she isn’t spending it all on rehabilitating prostitutes.” Gavin leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment, clearly lost in his thoughts. Eventually, he returned his attention to Devan. “I should have never agreed to serve as guardian and conservator when Richard asked me. This is all too much work, but that’s why you’re here. I need your help.”
Devan still leaned casually against the back of his chair, but his senses grew acute, waiting for his oldest brother to explain. Gavin never asked for anyone’s help, particularly Devan’s. In his position as a vicar, he knew enough to wait. People seeking help from a clergyman would usually spill their guts within fifteen minutes. It’d taken Gavin twenty, as he was normally tight-lipped about private matters.
“Richard was nothing but an arse, but an entertaining one. He kept a bevy of beautiful women surrounding him at all times. With such easy influence and wealth, I’m afraid to admit, he swayed me as a young man.” He rested his elbows on the desk.
Devan didn’t answer but he could empathize. When he’d been at university, he’d become friends with young peers who hadn’t inherited their titles yet, but they were as rich as King Croesus. While he, the fourth son of the Earl of Larkton, had no wealth to call his own.
But there was one huge difference.
His friends were good people. They never excluded him from their revelries and didn’t seem to mind that he was practically penniless. But more importantly, if he needed anything from any of them, they’d have helped him with no questions asked.
And they would never treat their wives the way the Marquess of Warwyk had treated his.
Gavin hadn’t been so discerning in his choice of friends, it appeared.
“Be that as it may, I’ve accepted the responsibility,” Gavin admitted.
“What can I do to help?”
Devan’s offer was met with a look of surprise from his older brother. “That was much easier than I care to admit.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything,” Devan answered.
“You will, because of the money I’m going to offer you,” Gavin said.
“You have my undivided attention.”
The look on his brother’s face appeared comical rather than his typical sardonic visage. Devan just smiled serenely, then waited for his brother to continue.
“I need you to find out where she’s getting her money for the buildings she’s investing in. Rumor has it that she’s opening a home for former prostitutes alongside a nursery or foundling home of some type. If she’s somehow circumventing the Warwyk solicitors and dipping into the cash reserves, I want to know immediately.”
“Come now, Gavin. That’s preposterous. The estate bookkeepers would know when and if money was being spent.”
“Only if she doesn’t have them on her private payroll,” Gavin said. “You’re familiar with her reputation. Money runs through her fingers like water. Richard was forever complaining about her spending habits.” He ran a hand down his face. “Thousands of pounds she spent. I have to make certain she’s not doing the same thing again.” He straightened, then stared at Devan. “Why prostitutes? You’d think she’d hate them after Richard’s liaison with Mary Bolen.”
“Who knows? She’s always struck me as a woman with a keen sense of convictions. She doesn’t make any decision lightly, from what I’ve witnessed.” Over the years, Devan had watched her at events. A cool attitude and a subdued, strong bearing were her hallmarks. “She’s not the type to blame Mary Bolen for her husband’s vile behavior.” Devan took another sip of brandy, then looked around the room.
His brother hadn’t changed a single thing in the room during the last twenty years. It was almost like a memorial to their father, who’d been a loving parent and a dutiful husband to their late mother. They’d been deeply in love and Devan had found himself blessed to be a part of such a family, even though his oldest brother had the uncanny ability to rile a turnip with his meddling and arrogant attitude.
“Perhaps it’s Lady Warlock’s chosen charity, one she feels strongly about,” Devan added.
It was unfathomable that he was defending her. Particularly after she’d jilted one of his best friends, Will Cavensham, to marry Richard Warwyk. But Devan had enough life experience to know that not everything was as it seemed in such circumstances. He had little doubt that William was now ecstatic that Avalon had jilted him all those years ago to marry the wealthy Richard Warwyk. It had left Will free to marry the love of his life, Lady Theodora Eanruig, a Scottish countess in her own right.
“Try to see what you can find out for me?” Gavin asked. “That’s your parish assignment. You’re the new vicar in Thistledown. You’ll fill the post at the start of the new year.”
Devan stood abruptly. “I don’t want another assignment. I’m perfectly happy with my little parish in Northumberland. I consider it my home. You can’t just move me around like a chess piece on a board.”
“If you’re not satisfied with my help, then why didn’t you marry one of the heiresses I’ve introduced you to?” Gavin asked. “You could be living a life of luxury in town instead of the wilds of Northumberland.”
Why was he surprised that Gavin would choose now to bring up the parade of women he insisted Devan meet for the purpose of marriage? All of them were fair of face and came with massive fortunes as an inducement, but not a single one had interested him. It didn’t help matters that Larkton never accepted his reason for refusing each and every one of them.
Though Devan’s reputation was that he was a consummate flirt who adored the ladies, the truth was much simpler. He’d not settle for some type of an arranged marriage with an heiress he didn’t feel any affection for. He wanted to fall in love just like his parents had. But his well-cultivated reputation had a slight benefit in keeping his brother from constantly prying into his business—though Gavin had started to become annoying with his list of eligible heiresses.
“If you think your list of ladies is so titillating, then why don’t you marry one?” he taunted. “I understand Miss Barbara Overfield is still looking for a match.”
“Calm yourself, little brother. Let’s not fight over your lack of interest in marriage. But you should know that I’ve added a little something to whet your appetite. For extra money, you’ll tutor Lady Warlock’s son, Thane. According to his last instructor, the young lord’s Latin is atrocious. I want the boy out of her clutches and ready to attend Eton by the beginning of next year’s school term. The Marquess of Warwyk needs to become his own man and not coddled by his mother.”
“I’m tired of you manipulating my life.” Devan didn’t hide the anger in his voice. “Every time I settle into a new parish, you ask the bishop to have me reassigned.”
“One of the benefits of being friends with Bishop Marlowe.” Larkton continued, “Come now, I’m trying to help you in your career. Each new assignment is at a larger parish. It brings more money and more prestige. Marlowe has even suggested making you a rector. If you continue your climb within the church, you might find yourself a bishop someday. Besides, this is the first time I can recall asking you for anything in return. If you agree to this last assignment, I won’t ask you to move again. I’ll let you pick where you’ll go next if you want to move. You have my word.”
Devan examined Larkton. His brother nodded as if acknowledging Devan’s unease at agreeing to such an assignment. But Devan wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He enjoyed his parish in Northumberland. The people were warm, friendly, and giving of their hearts. The position had allowed him to visit Will and Thea after their marriage several times, and Devan valued that friendship immensely.
To give up his friends and community for Lady Warlock seemed harsh, but perhaps he could have fun with her. A little excitement in his life would make the winter pass by quicker.
“How much does the position pay, and what amount are you offering for tutoring?” Before Gavin could answer, Devan added his own demand to the offer. “You tell her you’re sending me to spy on her. Besides, you have enough resources to find out what she’s doing without my help. But the young lord is another matter. It’s admirable that you’re looking out for Lord Warwyk’s future. Since he’s under your protection, you owe it to him that he receives the necessary training and education. I’ll gladly help you with him but not Lady Warlock.”
Gavin sat back down and shook his head. “You can’t dictate the terms of the assignment.”
He finished his drink, then stood to leave. “I just did,” Devan answered.