really good friend, honest and reliable, and he would never disrespect Fanny or us by mistreating her in any way. And isn’t it said a reformed libertine makes the best husband?”
“You might be right about Devlin as a friend,” Jamie said sternly, “But it doesn’t mean he would be a good husband for her.”
Sebastian nodded in full agreement. “I say we watch them closely, but let them have a little room for a possible proposal. If what you say about Devlin is true, Rake, then she couldn’t do any better.”
“Agreed?” Rake asked, and the other three men nodded silently. They would let Devlin in a bit closer than anyone else, but every last one of them made a silent promise to make sure nothing out of the ordinary ever happened between the two.
Sin lifted Fanny into his arms, and with a short “Night” he walked out of the room and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, where he gently placed her on her bed and tucked a comforter around her.
“Good night, sweet pea,” he whispered as he quietly closed the door behind him.
Chapter 6
The Hereford townhouse at Grosvenor Square stood cold and dark when Devlin entered it at three o’clock in the morning.
Quietly, he closed the door before he went on into the large hallway, where a footman slept in a chair. Devlin took off his heavy coat and laid it on one of the marble benches at the side of the enormous room.
Someone with regrettably bad taste had ordered the townhouse built more than two hundred years before Devlin’s birth, and he had many times wished he could rip it apart, the whole house, and build a new one. Something more elegant and sober and not so overwhelmingly large, and especially not stuffed with expensive but tasteless artifacts.
His own father, the fifteenth Duke of Hereford, had made it clear he thought this house was the essence of nobility. Everyone who entered the front door got the message of power and wealth.
To Devlin, the townhouse said more about his father as a person than about the standing of the Ross family.
Conan Ross had been a selfish man, a brutal and unloving father, and an abusive husband, and even though Devlin never spent any time in London as a boy, the house still reminded him too much of all the horrible years under his father’s thumb.
The memories of Conan hadn’t been the easiest to erase, as his wickedness had spread everywhere, even down to the lowest scullery maid. It had taken Devlin six months merely to get the servants to look at him, as they were too used to crawling in front of Conan, too aware of what he would do to them if he saw something he thought was wrong. Living with Conan had been like living in the darkness under a large, unyielding, smothering blanket.
However, this evening Devlin had seen the light of Lady Francesca Darling.
She had been something special as a child, so filled with energy and so utterly stubborn. Her childish crush on him had embarrassed her relatives, but for him it had been heaven to be adored like that.
No one had ever wanted him the way she had.
He slowly climbed the grand staircase and proceeded to his bedroom, where it was cozier, thanks to the large fire spreading its warmth through the room.
“Had a nice time?”
Devlin looked up as his valet appeared from a dark corner.
Bear was a gigantic man with broad shoulders, limbs like tree trunks, and waist-long brown hair.
Devlin had met him his first day in France when he happened to come upon the cheering group of enemy soldiers who had caught Bear. Without a second thought, he had made an attempt to save the big Englishman.
Due to his inexperience, he had failed miserably.
Instead, he too had been caught and had to listen to Bear repeatedly sighing over his stupidity until they finally were able to escape.
To Devlin’s surprise, Bear did not leave his side. Somehow Devlin had won the trust of the beast, and they had been inseparable ever since.
“What do you think?” Devlin rolled his eyes, and
“You might be right about Devlin as a friend,” Jamie said sternly, “But it doesn’t mean he would be a good husband for her.”
Sebastian nodded in full agreement. “I say we watch them closely, but let them have a little room for a possible proposal. If what you say about Devlin is true, Rake, then she couldn’t do any better.”
“Agreed?” Rake asked, and the other three men nodded silently. They would let Devlin in a bit closer than anyone else, but every last one of them made a silent promise to make sure nothing out of the ordinary ever happened between the two.
Sin lifted Fanny into his arms, and with a short “Night” he walked out of the room and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, where he gently placed her on her bed and tucked a comforter around her.
“Good night, sweet pea,” he whispered as he quietly closed the door behind him.
Chapter 6
The Hereford townhouse at Grosvenor Square stood cold and dark when Devlin entered it at three o’clock in the morning.
Quietly, he closed the door before he went on into the large hallway, where a footman slept in a chair. Devlin took off his heavy coat and laid it on one of the marble benches at the side of the enormous room.
Someone with regrettably bad taste had ordered the townhouse built more than two hundred years before Devlin’s birth, and he had many times wished he could rip it apart, the whole house, and build a new one. Something more elegant and sober and not so overwhelmingly large, and especially not stuffed with expensive but tasteless artifacts.
His own father, the fifteenth Duke of Hereford, had made it clear he thought this house was the essence of nobility. Everyone who entered the front door got the message of power and wealth.
To Devlin, the townhouse said more about his father as a person than about the standing of the Ross family.
Conan Ross had been a selfish man, a brutal and unloving father, and an abusive husband, and even though Devlin never spent any time in London as a boy, the house still reminded him too much of all the horrible years under his father’s thumb.
The memories of Conan hadn’t been the easiest to erase, as his wickedness had spread everywhere, even down to the lowest scullery maid. It had taken Devlin six months merely to get the servants to look at him, as they were too used to crawling in front of Conan, too aware of what he would do to them if he saw something he thought was wrong. Living with Conan had been like living in the darkness under a large, unyielding, smothering blanket.
However, this evening Devlin had seen the light of Lady Francesca Darling.
She had been something special as a child, so filled with energy and so utterly stubborn. Her childish crush on him had embarrassed her relatives, but for him it had been heaven to be adored like that.
No one had ever wanted him the way she had.
He slowly climbed the grand staircase and proceeded to his bedroom, where it was cozier, thanks to the large fire spreading its warmth through the room.
“Had a nice time?”
Devlin looked up as his valet appeared from a dark corner.
Bear was a gigantic man with broad shoulders, limbs like tree trunks, and waist-long brown hair.
Devlin had met him his first day in France when he happened to come upon the cheering group of enemy soldiers who had caught Bear. Without a second thought, he had made an attempt to save the big Englishman.
Due to his inexperience, he had failed miserably.
Instead, he too had been caught and had to listen to Bear repeatedly sighing over his stupidity until they finally were able to escape.
To Devlin’s surprise, Bear did not leave his side. Somehow Devlin had won the trust of the beast, and they had been inseparable ever since.
“What do you think?” Devlin rolled his eyes, and
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