Chapter 8
Eight
D ev’s head spun with mad ideas as he walked Kit through the streets of Mayfair. It was a risk to walk through even the edges of Mayfair when Kit’s pursuers might still be searching for him, but Dev was careful to keep them to the less-traveled streets and far from the more illustrious squares.
“You…you are not taking me to gaol, are you?” Kit asked when they had been walking in silence for too long. “Or to Bedlam?”
“Of course not,” Dev said, fighting not to be offended that Kit would think so. Because in truth, that was precisely what nearly everyone else who might discover Kit’s secret would want to do.
Dev was not like everyone else. He never had been.
He had seen too much of the world and enjoyed too many things that he should not have liked.
Hearing Kit confess that he wished he could become Miss Kitty Dryden more often, perhaps permanently, filled him with a particular sort of excitement instead of putting him off.
He had not been lying when he’d told Kit that he knew precisely what needed to be done.
He knew exactly where to take Kit to keep him hidden as well as possible while still in the middle of London.
And if he had his way, Kit would be given the chance to live out his dream and to determine whether it was truly what he wanted.
Mrs. Torrance wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, she might take a liking to Miss Kitty Dryden. The woman had a past in the theater after all.
Dev had not thought about Marianne for a week, but as they approached the townhouse containing the flat where she had lived, and where his past mistresses had lived before her, he smiled.
Perhaps fate had driven the wedge between him and Marianne at the precise moment it did because some greater power knew that Kit would be dancing into his life.
“Here we are,” Dev said, stepping forward so that he might hold the door open for Kit.
Kit crossed warily into the building, glancing askance at him. “And where precisely is this?” he asked.
Dev grinned. “Your new refuge.”
Kit was clearly still confused. He eyed Dev warily as he marched down the hall toward the room Mrs. Torrance kept as her study. Fortunately, the woman was there, sitting at her desk working on accounts, when Dev stepped into the doorway.
“Mrs. Torrance,” he announced himself amiably. “I am in need of the key to my rooms.”
Mrs. Torrance glanced up from her work and gave Dev a bright smile. “Lord Deveraux. How good to see you again. I never imagined you would be back so soon.”
Her smile turned into a cheeky grin as she glanced past Dev to see what new mistress he’d brought to occupy his rooms .
Her brow flew up and she gave Dev a second, even cheekier look when she spotted Kit.
“Well, that’s a bird of a different feather,” she said, rising from the desk and stepping to the side, where she kept various keys in a box atop a low cabinet.
“As you might imagine,” Dev said, enjoying the interaction more than he should have, “there are extenuating circumstances and something of a story behind my friend here.”
“No need to tell me,” Mrs. Torrance said, taking the correct key and heading for the doorway, then past Dev and Kit and into the hall. “You know that I have seen more than my fair share in my day and that I am the soul of discretion.”
Dev laughed. “Of course you are. That is why I recompense you so generously.”
Mrs. Torrance hummed and peeked over her shoulder at Dev as she started up the stairs.
“Everything is just as Mrs. Elmswood left it,” she said as she started along the hallway to the proper door.
“I had my girls go in and tidy things up a bit more a few days ago. We had no notion that the rooms would be occupied again so soon, so it is possible that the bed might not be made up and the fireplaces not well-supplied.”
“Items that are easy to remedy,” Dev said with a nod.
He paused to glance back at Kit as Mrs. Torrance unlocked and opened the door. Poor Kit was wide-eyed and confused. “ Mrs . Elmswood?” Kit whispered. “A married woman?”
“Heavens, no,” Dev laughed. “A professional woman who is called ‘Mrs.’ as a guise of respectability.”
“Oh.” Bless him, but Kit looked hopelessly, deliciously lost. He truly was an innocent to the ways of the world, which Dev found he adored.
“Here we are,” Mrs. Torrance said, handing the key over to Dev once the three of them were in the front room of the suite.
“Just as you’d like.” She looked at Kit as she continued with, “If there’s anything else you might need or want to furnish the rooms, do let me know.
This one is extraordinarily generous with his friends and will pay for anything within reason. ”
“I—” Kit’s mouth dropped open, but he did not seem to have the words to express his clearly startled thoughts.
Dev laughed. “Mrs. Torrance, allow me to explain,” he began. “And allow me to introduce you to my good friend, the Earl of Castleton.”
Mrs. Torrance blinked and stiffened. “Good Lord. What are you on about, my lord?”
Dev was grateful that Mrs. Torrance seemed to take the unusual situation in stride.
“Lord Castleton is in grave danger,” he said, growing serious.
“We believe that his father, the Duke of Bedminster, is attempting to erase his name from the family tree so that his younger son might inherit the title.”
“Gracious!” Mrs. Torrance said, clasping a hand to her bosom. She looked at Kit with different, kinder eyes, but also with clever assessment.
“Lord Castleton and I have only just evaded two would-be assassins in Hyde Park,” Dev went on, though he was well aware that his words sounded like a gothic novel.
“I thought it best to bring my friend here as quickly as possible so that he might find some respite, and so that he might make certain decisions about how he wishes to proceed from here.”
“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Torrance said, starting toward Kit with a mothering air. “You poor thing. You will be safe under Lord Deveraux’s roof. He owns this entire building and lets the rooms to those who truly need them.”
Dev blushed slightly at the way Mrs. Torrance framed his landlording tendencies as something altruistic.
In fact, the properties he owned throughout London and the income he had from them provided a generous addition to his finances since, unlike his brother James, he did not have an estate with an income of his own.
“I thank you for your kindness,” Kit told Mrs. Torrance, clearly bristling with awkwardness. “I have yet to fully discuss the matter with Lord Deveraux, however. There are some…extenuating circumstances.”
“Put those aside,” Mrs. Torrance said with a wave of her hand. “Why are we put here on this earth if not to help our neighbors when they are in need? Whatever circumstances are troubling you, they can be forgotten.”
“I do not know,” Kit said, looking uneasily at Dev.
There was much still to discuss, and Dev knew it.
“Perhaps a spot of tea would be the thing,” he told Mrs. Torrance. “And some of those jam tarts you excel at?”
Mrs. Torrance’s mouth quirked slightly. “I will make a batch fresh for you,” she said.
Bless the woman for knowing when two people needed to be alone to discuss delicate matters.
“All will be well,” she told Kit, patting his arm as she turned to go. “You are in the very best of hands now.”
She sent Dev a final smile before leaving the two of them alone.
Kit blew out a breath and took a step forward, like he would sink into the settee placed near the center of the room. “My head is spinning,” he said, choosing to pace and look around the room instead. “Where are we? What is this place?”
“Er, to be honest, these are the rooms where my mistress lives,” Dev said, wincing slightly.
He did not know why it mattered to him that Kit knew about Marianne and the women who had come before her.
He had never worried about the new object of his fancy knowing he’d been a man of the world in the past.
Perhaps it was the fact that he did fancy Kit, more than he had yet examined, that had him so much on the back foot.
Kit had been glancing around at the room’s admittedly ostentatious decoration, but he whipped to face Dev with wide eyes. “Your…mistress?” He swallowed, then quickly added, “Is she here now? Will she return? Will she mind that I am here?”
“Settle yourself,” Dev said, striding across the room to stand in front of Kit. He grasped Kit’s arms to steady him before he could stop himself. “I do not have a mistress at present. These rooms have always belonged to whomever fulfilled that role, if they required rooms, that is.”
“You do not have a mistress,” Kit said, looking pointedly at Dev. “But you have had them in the past.”
“Correct,” Dev said, unable to shake the sheepish feeling his admission gave him.
“Oh,” Kit said. He glanced down and gently pulled away from Dev’s hold. “I see.”
Dev frowned, then sucked in a breath when he thought he understood the cause of Kit’s disappointment. “I have also been known to enjoy the company of other men,” he said bluntly. They had passed the point of politeness at any rate.
Kit snapped another wide-eyed look up at him. “You have?” he asked, his tone strangled but his eyes bright with hope.
Dev laughed. “Come. Sit with me so that we might discuss things.”
He started over to the settee, then took a seat, patting the cushion beside him.
Kit moved warily to sit on the other end of the settee, as stiff as a board. “I…I believe I am as confused now as I ever was,” he said, folding his hands demurely in his lap .
For a moment, Dev just sat there, watching him and adoring everything he saw.
Kit’s awkwardness should not have charmed him the way it did.
He was not a cruel-hearted man, but there was something powerful in knowing that he had Kit in a tizzy.
He liked it because he knew he had the power to alleviate his lovely friend’s fears.