Sweet Torture (Fated for Love) (3 page)

“I won’t be another one of your conquests
, Devon.” Lydia stepped back. Her mind was reeling. This was Devon, the charming rogue of the ton, the rake who loved to irk her.

“That’s not what I
want, Lydia. This is different... you’re different.”

Lydia was silent. She didn’t know what to say and there wasn’t time to think here. “We should get back to the ballroom.” She turned away from him a
nd was relieved when he said nothing more and followed her.

They reached the door where Oliv
ia and Captain Colton waited. “Anything amiss?” Olivia asked.

“No.”

“Yes.”

They both answered in unison.

“I stubbed my toe on a pot. We need to leave, Olivia.” Lydia stated.

“Oh
, dear, that must hurt!” Olivia was instantly all concern.

“It’s not bad at all
, but I certainly don’t want to stand around a crowded ballroom the rest of the evening with the ever present threat of it being stepped on.”

“Certainly, o
nce inside I will find Lady Covvington, and we will leave straight away.”

*~~~

Devon was confused by Lydia’s sudden subterfuge and her wish to leave. When they re-entered the ballroom he was no longer puzzled. Lydia was clearly in no mood for a ball and looked upset. He felt like a wretch for being the cause of her state but what could he do? The words had been as spontaneous as the kiss. They had just erupted from him as if his heart had something so urgent to say that it bypassed his brain.

With Lydia and Olivia gone
, Devon and Colton quit the ball and headed for Whites gentleman club. He had never realized how much time he spent in their company until now. Without them, there were few people Devon called friends, and thus no reason to remain in that musky overcrowded ballroom. Colton hailed a hack, and as they rolled down the cobbled street, Colton raised a speculative eyebrow.

“Yes?” Devon asked.

“Have you decided to take on a wife then?” Colton bubbled over with mirth at the mere idea.

“H
ave you gone mad, old chap?”

Colton wiped a tear from his eye. “I could not help but notice y
our attention to the lovely Lady Lydia, or the lull before you met us in the conservatory.”

Devon deflected
, “Lydia thinks you have impure notions towards my sister.”

“What man wouldn’t?” Colton deadpanned.

“That is not the reassuring answer I was looking for.”

“There seems to be energy between the two of you. I can’t tell if she wants to hurt you or
throw herself into your arms. Very peculiar…”

“I would say that is a very good description of my relationship wi
th Lydia Covvington.” Devon stared out the window at the passing buildings.

“You both
address each other rather informally. Has it always been that way? I don’t remember it being this awkward last Christmas.”

Devon shrugged. “Olivia and Lydia took to each other at Olivi
a’s come-out ball. Lydia is an only child and spends much of her time with our family. We dispensed with formality some time ago as it grew tedious. But something has definitely changed between us—this stays between you and I, right?” Devon met his friends gaze.

“Of course.” Colton nodded
. “I just want to have time to order a new coat for your wedding.”

“You’re not as witty as you think you are.”
Devon glared.

“Olivia laughs at all
my jokes, and that is all I care about.”

Devon sighed in exasperation. “We’ve kissed twice now.”

Colton sobered. “That’s rather serious
, Devon. You’ve had your pick of beautiful women, and I can certainly see why she would tempt you, but what game are you trying to play with a lady of her ilk?”

“I’m not playing a game. Tis true
, the first kiss was born of pure want, simply to irritate her, but something happened.” Devon shook his head in bafflement.

Colton laughed. “You kissed a woman to irritate her? Tell me, how did that work out?”

“Like a bloody blow to the head. Have you ever had your world turned upside down in a single moment? One moment, you are completely sure of who you are and what you want, and the next…”

Colton leaned back against the squabs
, and shook his head. “I do, unfortunately.”

“One moment she was just Olivia’s friend
—a frigid, bristled woman who was enjoyable to needle. Hence the kiss to irritate her.”

Colton nodded sagely. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

Devon threw him a glare. “It was all innocent but then… I did kiss her and… it no longer felt innocent.”

“Kisses given to beautiful women rarely do Devon. You’re in over your head
,” Colton warned. “So you wish to court her now?”

“I haven’t gotten that far.”

“But you got far enough to kiss her again?”

“She baited me. If she hadn’t been flirting with you
, I never would have had the compulsion to do it.” Devon ran his fingers through his hair in agitation.

“You sound
smitten; I’d be careful, old man. As your friend, I should warn you to stay away from her. Find a woman who can ease your suffering, and forget about Lady Lydia. She is not a woman to be trifled with.”

Lydia moved to sit beside her mother after dropping Olivia off at home. She leaned her head on her shoulder, and took her hand as she had so many times as a little girl. Her mother may be the paragon of propriety in polite society, but Lydia never wanted for affection growing up.

“Does your foot bother you
, dearest? Should we fetch Dr. Malroy?” Her mother stroked her hair.

“No
, its fine. I’m just tired.”

“Lady Dolltrams
’ guest list was unforgivably crowded, and with quite a few undesirables, I might add,” Lady Covvington said scornfully.

“Really? I had noticed the crush
of oppressive heat, but no one terribly scandalous. Who was there?”

“
I thought my vision was failing me when I saw Mrs. Flatfield on the dance floor with Lord Crimmson. They were behaving as if discretion were a word never introduced into the English language. She is not the first young bride to be married off to man thrice her age, nor is she the last, but that does not give her license to parade it before polite society. How one behaves is their true nobility. Blood, ancestry… those are good on parchment, but ones decorum is their true nature. Take your father for example—.”

Lydia inwardly cringed. She felt no love for the father she didn’t know
, but still loathed the tedious and depressing lectures her mother gave regarding his impeccable lineage and heinous behavior. He was the model for which her mother judged all men, and often found them lacking, or perilously close, by comparison.

“
He was a true nobleman worthy of the name with the exception that he was a shameless reprobate. He was the catch of the season and the most handsome, as well. I was young and easily fooled by his charm and wit. When he asked for my hand, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. But a man who has everything is never satisfied. I hired and fired six maids in two weeks because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He would go out every night and drank, gambled, and frolicked with whores and wastrels. I gave up after a month. I couldn’t take the whispers, the feminine letters reeking of cheap perfume… I would never be enough for him and I had too much pride to be a throwaway wife. He would never care for me, and the family we would have, so I banished him, picked up the pieces of my shattered dreams, and started over with the only gift he ever gave me.” She turned to Lydia and stroked her hair.

Lydia moved away. “Why do you tell me these things? Do you t
hink I truly wish to know how awful my own father was?”

“I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I don’t want you to ever be as unhappy as I am
—was. Those weeks were torture, being in the public eye was torture, but I held my head high. Society may accept the wilder nature of privileged young men as their due, but I would rather die than see you married off to any man like your father no matter how titled he is. All mothers should be so considerate of their daughters, but alas, my experience is a familiar one and these days, even young, new wives feel it is perfectly acceptable to betray their husbands.”

“One can’t help but feel sorry for a young woman
who is married off to a man twice her age… Lady Patrick for example.” Lydia replied.

“She should be so lucky. A man passed his prime is stable, safe, and won
’t embarrass you in society.”

“Mother!
But what about love and… passion?”

“Oh
, dear me, Lydia, have you no sense? There is no place for love and passion in polite society. Such things are grotesque! Perhaps it is time you consider a husband, if you are having such thoughts. Lord Woodrich would suit you admirably. He has five thousand a year and rarely comes to town. He spends his time bird watching from what I here.”

“A love match is not grotesque
,” Lydia argued

“You would learn to love Lord Woodrich in time. Real love grows from respect
, not this instantaneous spark, so many young fools write poems about. Those romances don’t last, and before they know it, those poor fools are married to each other, and one of them is hopping from bed to bed while the other is miserable.”

Lydia turned away from her mother and stared out the window at the passing street lamps. Thank the Lord they were almost home.

“Lord Wilhelm is a perfect example of one not to marry,” Lady Covvington continued unaware of Lydia’s lack of attention. “I realize you are dear friends with his sister, and Olivia is a delightful young woman, but her brother certainly reminds me of your father. He carries that aura of devilment that draws the foolish young women like moths to flame. He will break his future wife’s heart, no doubt about it.”

Lydia remained silent but squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Her mother couldn’t see her expression
, thankfully. Lydia mentally kicked herself over and over. If her mother only knew she had shared two sinfully delicious kisses with Lord Wilhelm, she would disown her. And what he said to her tonight, well… Lydia was in danger. It seemed she had already lost her wits, if not yet her heart.

“The way you talk about father, I do not think Lord Wilhelm resembles him. He is a very kind and attentive brother.
Surely, that gives him a sense of morality when it comes to the treatment of those who care for him. Wouldn’t that extend to his wife?”

“One would hope. I am relieved you are such close friends with his sister
, as that will earn you protection from his baser behavior. I will give him that much.”

Oh dear God
, if her mother only knew how wrong she was. Lydia pressed her feverish brow against the cool window and closed her eyes once more. Devon had kissed her twice already, and Lydia had a feeling that unless she went into hiding and avoided all society, he would find a way to do it again. The possibilities for dalliance at the gatherings they attended were many, and Devon seemed to be a master. Lydia felt caught by him—like a cornered mouse—only, instead of being scared, she was intrigued. She didn’t know she could feel like this, and she didn’t yet understand how suddenly it was Devon making her feel this way. She should avoid him at all cost, and yet… she didn’t want to. The things he said tonight… the way he said them… it spoke to a part of her she didn’t know existed; a part of her that was a giant witless fool who easily succumbed to the kiss of a rogue. It felt as if the world she once knew were fading away, revealing one that was much more complicated and filled with intense emotion. A week ago, she was sure of whom she was and of her place in the world. She was a model of ideal behavior for a young woman, and now… now she was burning up at the sight of a man’s smile, and her heartbeat was erratic at the mere thought of him. How could this be?

“I have a sneaking suspicion you should be mine.”

“Devon, how can you say that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this yet
, but I don’t want to fight it. I want to explore it.”

“I won’t be another one of your conquests
, Devon.”

“That’s not what I
want, Lydia. This is different... you’re different.”

Lydia shivered.

“Are you cold, dearest?” Her mother touched her arm as the carriage stopped before their home.

“No
, Mama. Just tired,” She replied as a footman opened the door and pulled down the steps.

“I will have Melinda make a toddy for you. By morning
, you will be right as rain.”

Lydia grimaced. The last thing she wanted or needed was one of the
housekeeper’s slimy concoctions. “I just want to go to bed, Mother, there is no need to wake her.” Lydia waited while her mother was assisted out of the coach, and then they climbed the steps together and entered the townhouse.