Page 3 of The Devil Himself (The Devil You Know #1)
Three
“ H e won’t help?” Hannah sat stiffly on the settee in the parlor, hands clenched in her lap.
“He says not.” Disappointed he might be, but not surprised.
Rys had been ill-treated by his family, and no one could deny it.
Perhaps only Luc and Hannah knew how much Owen had regretted their lost relationship in the past few years, but Owen had never acted on it, had he?
Having a brother who ran one of the most notorious gaming hells in London was simply too scandalous for a reconciliation.
Owen hadn’t been able to move past that and reach out, and now it was too late.
His best friend’s widow made a low, distressed noise. “What am I going to do?”
“I shall help you,” Luc told her, trying for a gentle tone. “You know that.”
“I do.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “And I adore you for it. But you have your own affairs to attend to. Your own title and an heir to boot. I cannot expect you to spend all your time keeping me and Gareth safe.”
“Mmm.” That was true enough. Dammit. “Damien is at school, though, as you know. So I do have some time to commit to you.” He missed his son like a sore tooth, but he was an heir to an earldom and would benefit from attending Eton and learning to deal with his peers. So off to school he had gone.
She chuckled. “You are very kind, Luc.”
“I am worried about you and about Gareth.”
She nodded, pulling at a wrinkle in her black bombazine skirts. Sadly, widow’s weeds washed her out, making her appear even more pale and tragic. “I am afraid to send him back to school.”
Luc pondered that. “You’re afraid of him being attacked while he’s there?”
“Yes. He’d be all alone.”
“He would be… But he would also be away from— from everything here.” One never knew who might be lurking, so he and Hannah tried to refrain from mentioning her brothers-in-law.
“I worry about that too.” She shook her head. “I worry about everything. Oh, Luc, I miss him.”
“I know. So do I.” He and Owen had not been as close in recent years as they had been as children and young bucks at university, but they had seen each other several times a month to play cards and have a brandy, and he had attended all of Hannah’s functions at the house. Owen had been a good friend.
“Perhaps I can engage a guard for him,” Luc said.
“To watch over him at school?”
“Yes.” He would have to find someone he could trust, which he had no idea how to do, since bribes were easy enough to accept, but surely it could be done. “Then he could be away from here and less of a temptation. It would be harder to get to him at Eton.”
“Then we should proceed with that. I’ve had Mr. Helstrom tighten down on the accounts, moving money about so there is less of it to access. I can pay a salary.”
“Then I shall try to engage someone as soon as possible.” He rose from the armchair he’d planted himself on. “As soon as I have someone, you can make the arrangements to send Gareth back to school.”
“Thank you, Luc. I do not know what I would do without you.”
“Neither do you need to know.” He smiled, even though he did not feel up to it, and sketched a bow. “You have a companion coming for the day?”
“Lady Kerrington. She and I grew up together. I trust her.”
“Good. I shall see you again soon.” He left before he could offer even more help. He had promised Owen, many years ago, that if something should happen to him, he would aid Hannah and her children.
And he was trying to live up to that promise.
He turned on one booted heel and headed for the foyer, where the butler handed him his hat and gloves. “Thank you, Lawson. By the by, where is Gareth?”
“His lordship is with his sisters in the playroom, my lord. They are working some sort of dissection.”
Luc assumed that meant a puzzle made of wood and paper, not some hapless animal like a mouse or a bird that the children had found deceased. The governess might object to that.
“Perfect. Thank you. Should Lady Hannah need me, I will be at my club.”
“Very good, my lord.”
He walked to the door, and Luc was on his way down the townhouse steps when he saw Daffyd Grey step out of a carriage and start toward him.
“Angelsey,” Daffyd said curtly, stopping him at the foot of the stoop. “What the devil are you doing here?”
He firmed his mouth into a straight line for a moment, showing his disapproval of the greeting. “Paying my respects to your brother’s widow.”
“Bah. You’re sniffing about her like she’s a bitch in heat.”
“Daffyd! You will not speak so about the lady.” He clenched his hands to keep from grabbing Daffyd’s cravat in one hand and shaking him.
“She is my sister-in-law, and I am the guardian of her son’s sizeable fortune. I will speak as I please.” He got a sneer that made him nearly blind with anger.
How had this man come from the same family as Owen and Rys? How? Their father had been a stern old fool, but he hadn’t been… dissolute. Not like the middle two sons.
Daffyd had been afforded the military commission Rys had so desperately wanted, and he had been sent down from it in disgrace for striking a superior officer. He was simply a ne’er-do-well and a wastrel.
“And if I were interested in her after her mourning?” He wasn’t, but Luc had a burning curiosity to see Daffyd’s reaction.
“Don’t even attempt it, Angelsey. If anyone is to marry the bitch, it will be me.”
Stunned, he almost rocked back on his heels. He began to understand the depth of Daffyd’s depravity. Marry the widow and possibly somehow dispose of the only boy child, and Daffyd would have the title neatly sewn up. Dastardly, but effective.
“She won’t have you,” he pointed out.
“She won’t have a choice. Those widow’s weeds protect her now, but they won’t forever.” Daffyd brushed past him, shoulder glancing off his and forged into the house.
Picking up his hat where it had fallen on the ground and dusting it off, Luc changed his mind about where he was headed.
It looked as though he needed to pay another visit to the Devil’s Playground.
Luc had to see Rys, had to convince the man this was dire. He needed the goddamn help, because he had no idea what to do next.