Perhaps Cain had the right of it when he said he wasn’t his brother Abel’s keeper. Such a shame that my own doesn’t abide by those rules.
From the personal notes of Mr. Devan Farris
“Larkton, enough.” Devan strode into Avalon’s sitting room.
Leave it to his brother to make a bigger mess of the situation. Under no circumstances would Devan abide Gavin making Avalon a part of the farce he currently found himself embroiled in with Penelope Rowley. Without waiting for either Avalon or Gavin to invite him in, Devan sat next to Avalon. Her sweet scent rose to greet him, and he inhaled deeply. Since he’d left her Saturday night, her fragrance had left an indelible mark on him. Everything within him came to attention when he was by her side.
“What are you doing here?” Devan didn’t hide his displeasure. “I told you all I wanted you to know about the situation. I’ve decided to handle it directly.”
“And get your head shot off in the process, I’ll wager,” Larkton said. “If you’re too pig-headed to see—”
“What I see is an earl who acts more like an old hen.” Devan’s retort ricocheted through the room. “Go manipulate someone else’s life. Perhaps while you’re scratching around the proverbial barnyard, you’ll find someone else to control.”
“Devan,” Avalon soothed. “He’s just trying to help.”
Gavin’s eyebrows shot skyward. “You two are on intimate terms?”
“Is that so surprising?” Devan taunted. “Hard to believe that I could actually form a friendship with a woman?”
Avalon turned to Gavin and tilted her head. “What can I do to help?”
“Tell me your personal knowledge of what happened that evening.”
“Do not get her involved.” Devan made a move to stand.
Avalon’s attention stayed riveted on Gavin as her hand shot out and grabbed Devan’s arm. “This is my business, too.”
Her touch calmed the beastly urge inside him to pummel his oldest brother to pieces. “Avalon, do not become involved just for my sake.”
“He was with me,” she said, her voice clear and resolute. “We were locked in the wine cellar that night.”
“Don’t say another word.” Devan stiffened beside her.
Gavin’s eyes widened. “Can you prove it?”
“Yes,” she said.
Neither Gavin nor Avalon acknowledged his warnings. It was enough to make Devan growl. “Do not—”
Just then the door opened, and Mr. Neville entered with His Lordship, Bishop Marlowe. Devan felt his anger sail right out the window at the bishop’s entrance. By summoning His Lordship to Warwyk Hall, Gavin had blocked Devan’s growing self-righteous indignation at the earl’s interference. Any chance Devan had to handle the situation by himself had been stolen like a clipper ship blocking another’s access to the wind.
In essence, Devan’s position of strength was dead in the water.
The bishop controlled his career and standing within the clergy.
His Lordship approached and they all stood. Avalon extended her hand in welcome, and the bishop gave the perfunctory bow, then greeted both Gavin and Devan. He settled next to Gavin when they all took their seats.
In his mid-thirties, Bishop Marlowe was a handsome man, though the trials and tribulations of his position were readily apparent by the premature graying of his temples. By special assignment, he was responsible for parishes throughout the church that seemed to be floundering. That’s how Devan received his appointments. But a sense of calm always seemed to surround the bishop, and just by his presence, this incident would be resolved one way or another.
Unfortunately, his mere appearance in Thistledown this morning meant that the situation was dire for Devan.
Gavin spoke first. “Thank you for coming.”
Bishop Marlowe waved a hand in the air. “It was the right thing to summon me.” He turned his attention to Devan. “What’s this I hear that you’ve managed to attract a little trouble?”
“It’s nothing you need concern yourself with, Your Lordship.” Devan sat on the edge of his seat while he addressed the bishop. “My brother reacted too quickly in calling you here. I’m about to go to the young woman’s house and settle the situation myself.”
The bishop regarded Gavin, then turned to Devan. “Whenever there’s an allegation of compromising a young woman, it’s never too soon to react. I know the answer, but protocol requires I ask anyway. Is it true?”
“No, sir,” Devan answered.
Avalon straightened in her seat. “He was with me all night.” At the bishop’s quick intake of air, she held out her hand in an appeal to be allowed to continue. “I was explaining to Lord Larkton that Mr. Farris and I were locked in my wine cellar the night that Miss Rowley claims to be compromised. There’s no way he could have been with her. We have corroborating witnesses in my staff. My son was the one who found us the next morning.”
“Thank God,” Gavin sighed.
The bishop shook his head. “It’s not all good news, Larkton. While he didn’t compromise the girl, clearly, there is still the allegation. There’s only one solution by my way of thinking.” His gaze bounced from Devan’s to Avalon’s direction. “He marries the young woman.”
“What?” Devan shot off the sofa. “You can’t force my hand.”
The bishop narrowed his gaze on Devan. “Otherwise, you can’t continue in your duties to the church. You’ve already managed to attract enough scandal swirling around you to blow asunder the good work that this parish has accomplished in the past several years.” He leaned back against the sofa. “From the simple fact that Lady Warwyk has chosen to help ladies of questionable reputations make a new life for themselves here, your unfortunate circumstance will forever tarnish her good deeds.”
Avalon released a sigh, then stood. She crossed the room to her desk, then opened a drawer and brought out a journal of some type. His gut tightened with the elegance of her movement. Whatever he had to do, he’d protect her even if it meant giving up the only career he had. Immediately, an image of him working the fields as one of her tenants intruded. By God, he’d do manual labor for the rest of his life if it meant he could still be near her while protecting her reputation.
To hell with his own.
The cruel reality was he faced real ruin. There was no one who would welcome them into their society if they thought him a lecher who would ruin a young woman then refuse to marry her. Penelope Rowley had executed a perfect plan when she came up with the ridiculous tale. She would force his hand into marrying her or he would be without a livelihood.
By then, Avalon had returned to her seat. Her soft gaze fell on his, and the warmth of her smile made him believe that whatever decision had to be made, they’d do it together. He let out a tense breath.
“You don’t have to do this,” he murmured for her ears only.
She nodded slightly. “Devan, if you’d be so kind as to allow me to converse with Lord Larkton and His Lordship privately, I’d be in your debt.”
“What are you about, my lady?”
“I’m trying to save your career.” She lifted one eyebrow as her spine straightened in defiance. “Now, will you leave on your own or shall I have two footmen escort you out?”
Avalon watched silently as Devan left her study. She set her accounting journal on her lap.
“Your Lordship,” she addressed the bishop. “Unfortunately for me, Lord Larkton is the male guardian of my son and the conservator of the estate. He orchestrated Mr. Farris’s move to my village for the sole purpose that Mr. Farris discover where I receive the funds to do the work around the parish. He believes that I may be using the marquisate’s funds for my own.”
Not refuting her statement, Larkton had the decency to look ashamed.
Coyly, the bishop smiled. “Larkton and I became friends as boys. I’m very familiar with how he operates. Mr. Farris’s appointment had to be approved by the church.”
“And you were the one to approve it on recommendation from the earl?”
The bishop nodded.
A movement caught her attention. With his head bowed, Devan cut across the drive, heading back to the vicarage. She’d hated to send him away, but he would have protested every word or thought she’d present to undo the damage that Penelope had inflicted on all of them today. There really was only one way out of the situation, but before she’d agree to anything, she would negotiate on Devan’s behalf. Though the two men before her thought they could force Devan to do their bidding, they couldn’t force her to do anything.
But she’d do the honorable thing and protect Devan’s reputation. Though his every action had been designed with her in mind, Devan was mistaken when he thought he had to protect her. The truth was she had to protect him.
“We recently had our annual benefit auction, and I’m proud to say it was a monumental success.”
She handed the journal to the bishop. His Lordship pulled a pair of glasses from his waistcoat, then proceeded to look at the page that she had opened the book to.
After a few minutes, he looked up and shook his head once in disbelief. “This is a staggering amount of money.” He passed the book to Larkton.
The earl looked up and gave the journal back to Avalon. “Fine. You’ve proven you know how to run a successful charity.”
“I’ve never taken a shilling from the marquisate other than what was needed for the upkeep of the property and the welfare of the people who live here.”
“And the point of this?” Larkton asked warily.
“Before we proceed any further in our discussion over your brother, I want to make something perfectly clear. I resent the fact that you thought I’d take those funds for my own use. From my own son, no less.”
“My lady,” he said smoothly. “I know your reputation.”
She nodded her head vehemently. “Indeed, you do, sir. Because you helped create it when you were best friends with Lord Warwyk. You allowed him to say whatever he wanted about me without trying to discover the truth. You two were thick as thieves then.”
“What do you mean?” Larkton asked.
“Richard provided the town house and the jewels to me so I’d keep quiet about his mistress. He moved her into our home, into my bedroom, and forced me elsewhere. Not to mention, to keep quiet about his abysmal treatment of me.”
The bishop’s eyes widened in shock. “My lady, these are matters best left for another time.”
“I respectfully don’t agree, Your Lordship.” Avalon would not back away from confronting Larkton. “Everything we discuss, every bargain presented will not have my agreement unless we all understand each other.”
“I promised Warwyk before Thane was born that I’d look after his son if the need ever arose. I thought you preferred to live here.” The look of utter shock on Larkton’s face took her aback.
“You truly didn’t know, did you?” For the first time, she saw the man before her not as an irritation but as someone who was trying to do what was right for Thane and his legacy.
He shook his head. “Richard was always one to exaggerate, but he showed me the bills and said you’d left him. He told me that he begged you to come back to London, and you refused.”
“Hardly. You were there the day he threw me out of London and away from my sister. I was sent here to Warwyk Hall to have Thane with specific instructions not to leave. I had no support, company, or even a single confidant. I found no succor in my situation. That’s why I’ve worked so hard on this community. The people on the estate and in the village welcomed me with open arms. They were my salvation.” She forced herself to take a deep breath. “I want you to know all this because we can’t find a solution to Devan’s problem without you knowing the truth about me. You’ll never trust me otherwise.”
Larkton rested his elbows on his knees and buried his head in the palms of his hands. “I had no idea he’d done that to you.”
“I was seventeen years old, Larkton. What experience would I have had in terms of spending money? My father and mother kept me under lock and key.” She snapped her journal closed. “However, it’s water under the bridge.”
The bishop, who had kept quiet during this time, cleared his throat. “My lady, from what you’ve shared today on how you benefitted from Thistledown, it’s easy to see that its people benefitted greatly from you and your endeavors.”
“Thank you,” she answered. “But the parish has blossomed under Mr. Farris’s guidance, also. He brings a vigor and energy sorely needed by the town’s residents. He’s a good man who deserves to continue in his chosen career. I say this not only as a concerned member of the parish, but also as a person who knows what it feels like to have someone else ruin their standing and reputation within society. My deceased husband was a perfect example. I won’t let such a thing happen to Mr. Farris. He doesn’t deserve it, nor does he deserve to be pushed into a marriage that’s doomed to failure from the start.”
“My lady, that’s all well and good, but he’s a member of the clergy. He’s held to a higher standard,” the bishop argued.
“As he should be,” Avalon agreed. “However, he should be allowed to make the decision. He’s the son and brother of an earl. If Miss Rowley has her dates wrong and what she says is true, he’s aware of what’s expected of him.” She let that last little bit hang in the air. “But at the very least, let him defend himself.”
When Larkton wiped his hand down his face, she knew she’d hit the mark. “Perhaps there’s another way to save Devan’s reputation without him having to marry the Rowley woman,” Larkton said cautiously.
“Penelope is young.” Avalon sat on the edge of her seat. “Let me speak with her and try to discover why she’s said those things. I can try to persuade her to withdraw her allegations.”
“I’m afraid that won’t work.” Devan’s brother shook his head. “The damage has been done. Even if you refute Miss Rowley’s claim, you put yourself in jeopardy.”
“But her uncle’s anger would be diffused,” Avalon argued. “Besides, it’s the truth I was with him.”
“My lady, you could marry him and explain that you were locked together in the cellar the night she claims she was ruined.” Larkton turned to the bishop. “What do you think, Marlowe? It’d save his career. If the Rowley woman doesn’t make any further accusations, then everyone would win in this situation.”
The bishop’s eyes flashed, and a smile graced his face. “That’s brilliant, Larkton.”
They both turned to her with such eagerness on their faces, it reminded Avalon of dogs begging.
“And why, pray tell, why would I want to marry Mr. Devan Farris?” She was quite pleased with the calmness of her voice.
Larkton leaned back against the sofa with a new ease. “You have to marry him or both of your reputations will suffer. People will talk.”
“I’m a widow in control of my own fortune.” She clasped her hands a little tighter. “I have a young son to raise.”
“A young son who happens to be my ward,” Larkton responded. “I could whisk him off to London at any time.”
“Are you threatening me?” She stared at the earl, then raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not, my lady,” the bishop said smoothly. “Larkton is many things, but devious, I think not.” The bishop clasped his hands together and a peaceful expression colored his visage. “Lady Warwyk, the church has invested a great deal in Mr. Farris’s career, not to mention we have high hopes for his advancement. Whenever there’s a special project that is a delicate matter to handle, we assign Mr. Farris. I know he seeks to have a more permanent position within the church. If he was married to you, Mr. Farris’s career would be saved, and he could assist me in London since he’d be living so close. Your interests and charities could continue as they are, and everyone could go back to normal.”
“But I’d have a husband, one who would control me and my fortune just from the fact that we were married.” She straightened in her seat. “Why would I do that, gentlemen? If either of you were in my position, you’d have walked out the door by now.”
The bishop slowly swung his gaze to Larkton. “What would you offer to help the marchioness make the right decision?”
Larkton nodded curtly, then turned to Avalon. “I’ll offer not to send the boy to Eton for another year.” He leaned back against the sofa, but the tension in his shoulders was readily apparent.
“That’s not enough,” she shot back in answer. “Your brother would be my husband and have constant contact with Thane,” she argued. “You’d still have control.”
Larkton shook his head. “Come now, my lady. I have control now and always will until the lad reaches his majority. Marriage to Devan wouldn’t change that. Besides, you’ve personally seen how Devan and I relate to one another. He doesn’t do anything I ask. You’d still be raising the young marquess the same way you are now. Marrying Devan will at least give you more time with your son before he goes to school.”
“Only a couple of months,” she said.
“My brother is quite fond of the boy,” argued Larkton. “He’d not contradict the boy’s interests. You know that about him. If he says Warwyk isn’t ready, I’ll listen to him.”
Indeed, Devan had not only tried to charm her, but he’d completely captivated her son. Thane would be delighted if they’d married. But what about her? She couldn’t deny how lonely she’d been over the years. It’d be wonderful to share her interests and life with someone, particularly Devan. With a single word, he could tease her into laughter. But he could also be a good listener when she was troubled.
But a husband?
“Think of my brother as an ally you’d have an opportunity to woo. I have every faith you’ll be able to do the impossible.”
She couldn’t bear to have another marriage like she had with Richard. She’d not do it. She’d not give up her freedom just for another man. She’d have to find another way to wrench Thane’s guardianship from Larkton.
But the truth wouldn’t be denied. She’d yearned for someone to hold her close on cold winter nights and hold hands with her on long summer walks. When Devan glanced her way and smiled, he made her feel as if she were the only person in the world.
Which was probably what he did with all the women who caught his eye. What if he found someone else?
He called her “Warlock,” for heaven’s sake and thought her prickly. At first, his teasing was unmerciful, then it became playful and affectionate. Devan cared for her—of that she had no doubt. But she couldn’t risk another marriage where love hadn’t been openly declared.
Yet, Devan had also held her and felt anger for what she’d gone through with Richard. It would be wonderful to have a willing partner to experience life with plus share the physical intimacy of marriage while never having to fear she was always second best. Yet, how could she secure such a promise from someone like Devan?
He was a pure rake, albeit a religious one. He loved women and thrived on flirting and made no secret about it.
She released a sigh.
Larkton cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. “What’s it going to take, Avalon?”
“Twenty thousand pounds,” she announced without hesitation. Let them think the worst of her. “I want twenty thousand pounds to marry him.”
Larkton choked on her words. “Why am I not surprised you asked for that?” He stood with such a force that she felt a gentle wind blow across her face. “I don’t have that type of money. It’s a fortune.”
She’d clearly upset him, as he started to pace in between the two sofas.
“I know. Your brother wanted to marry an heiress. Since my fortune is tied up in investments that pay for my charities, I don’t have anything to give your brother.” She stood and returned her journal to her desk, then returned to her seat. “Surely you understand my reasoning.”
“I do,” Larkton admitted. “That amount would bankrupt my estate.” He stopped pacing and stared at the floor. After a long moment, he returned his attention to her. “I could take out a mortgage,” he said reluctantly.
“Don’t worry yourself over bankrupting the earldom. I have some discretionary funds available plus money of my own. I don’t want to lose a man like Devan.” The bishop’s focus settled on Avalon. “I’ll make certain you receive it, Lady Warwyk, but on one condition. You must marry by special license by tomorrow evening. I don’t want any more of a scandal to erupt in that gossip rag, The Midnight Cryer. It wouldn’t do any of us any good if we let this situation fester, particularly the church.”
“I’ll have my solicitor draw up the marriage agreement,” Larkton said with a tone that indicated that the matter was settled.
“Though you didn’t ask for my answer, I’ll marry him.” She didn’t care that her tone sounded curt. “But I’ll have my solicitor draw up the documents.” Then she smiled sweetly, hoping to disarm them from becoming suspicious. “We don’t want any loose ends, do we, gentlemen? If you’ll excuse me, I’ve business to attend to.”
Namely, asking Devan to marry her. Without another word, she gracefully walked out of the room, leaving the earl and the bishop with their mouths open.
As soon as she was out of the bishop’s and Larkton’s sight, she found herself walking briskly all the while hoping she was doing the right thing. She hadn’t had feelings for Richard and he’d dismantled her into pieces with his loathing. She blew out a breath. Devan was a different man, a better man, and she cared for him. But still, there were no guarantees for a happy life. With her affections already engaged, wasn’t she risking her happiness, her future if things turned ugly?
She was risking everything. Avalon donned her cloak and gloves, then continued walking to the vicarage because she wanted him.
The unbelievable circumstances that she would be married tomorrow to a devilish, dashing vicar consumed her thoughts.
Of course, that was only if he’d have her.
She didn’t care if she did have a tendency to use an excessive number of words that began with d.
Moreover, Avalon wouldn’t delude herself.
Devan Farris was a delicious devil, and she’d have him in her bed tomorrow.