The Marriage Wager by Karla Darcy

Author:Karla Darcy [Darcy, Karla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780985761455
Publisher: Glades Publishing
Published: 2012-09-22T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Devereaux Havenhurst smiled smugly as he stared up at the stone facade of his townhouse. He was rested after his week's sojourn with his friends but he suspected the new Lady Havenhurst had had a bad time of it. He could imagine the shambles that would greet him. Hopefully by now she had given up her quest for respectability and was prepared to be reasonable. Perhaps his dismissal of the servants had been less than sportsmanlike. He felt no compunction at the trick he had played, feeling that the conniving young woman had asked for that particular strategy. His friends did not call him the Grey Fox for naught.

He brushed a particle of lint from the sleeve of his tan superfine jacket, then fluffed the lace edging on his cravat. Max's valet had turned him out particularly fine for his interview with his wife. Dev suspected he would be subjected to tears and hysterics over the loss of the wager. He was prepared to be gracious, of course. He would wipe her tears and coax her to confide her troubles. At that point she would be more amenable to the annulment. And once Jena realized he was even planning to provide her with a generous settlement, she should be in a decidedly amiable frame of mind to entertain his newest proposal.

Now that the black haired temptress was chastened, she should make an admirable mistress. Unless his memory was faulty, the girl was a prize indeed. He remembered the petal soft skin that had begged to be touched, the pouting mouth ripe for his kisses. He groaned as he had all week when he imagined the lush figure writhing in his arms. Dev cleared his throat, passing a tongue over his suddenly dry lips. Enough of these puerile fantasies. It was time for action. He straightened his shoulders and with the head of his cane, tilted his beaver hat to a more jaunty angle. Briskly he mounted the steps and raised his cane to alert the house of his return.

Before the cane could touch the wood, the door was pulled open from within. Dev's eyebrows raised in surprise as he stepped over the threshold.

"Welcome home, Lord Havenhurst."

The harsh whispered voice came from behind Dev and he whirled to face the speaker. At the sight that greeted his eyes, he inadvertently stepped back a pace. An enormous figure stood at attention in the marble hallway. The servant, dressed in bright yellow livery, had the body of a behemoth and the face of an unrepentant murderer. Hands the size of hams were extended for Dev's hat, gloves and cane. Behind him the door closed, cutting off any hope of escape.

"I am your new butler, milord," the man said in a voice with the rasp of sandpaper. "The name is Lamb."

"Devil, you say!" Dev blurted out.

Immediately his eyes flew to the expressionless butler but Dev could see no flash of hostility to signal an imminent attack. He was mesmerized by the eye-catching splendor

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