Read Online A Wild Night's Bride by Victoria Vane - Free Book Online

finished.
    This was, however, the last place she wanted to be—in the prince’s presence. She didn’t know if she was more hurt or relieved that he hadn’t recognized her. Still, she dared not reveal her face for fear of what might be said. She’d suffered enough humiliation at his hand—lost her position, her reputation, her hopes of a husband and family. He’d cast her aside without a second thought. She had only come here out of concern for Ned. When DeVere had received that frustratingly cryptic message about finding him in a gutter, she feared he had been assaulted...or worse. Now reassured of his well-being, she was sorely tempted to slink away and hope that DeVere might call on her again.
    She had not given up hope of engaging his interest, although her own feelings were decidedly unengaged—all the better for such an arrangement. While she thought she had known what to expect in meeting him, something about the man was truly disconcerting. He was perpetually restless, almost manic in his quest for diversion, as if he feared that in resting even for a moment he might be forced to take stock of himself.
    At first, she was befuddled by the close relationship between him and Ned, but now realized Ned’s steadiness served as a perfect foil for DeVere. Although he might mock his friend, deep down, he admired and, perhaps, even coveted that quiet reserve. DeVere was a man who hadn’t grown up and likely never would. Yet he would, assuredly, be entertaining if he chose to take her as his mistress. Moreover, she had absolutely no fear of losing her heart to him.
    Ned, on the other hand, was dangerous.
    Their brief time together in the garden had only made her realize how lonely she was...had refreshed the longings she’d once had...awakened new cravings. Without even touching her, he had ignited a smoldering fire low in her belly. Knowing she would do well to avoid his company, she was glad he would be only a few days in London. Still, she couldn’t avoid stealing a glance at him across the room. She found him staring back at her. Caught, he hastily looked away. Though he fought the attraction, she knew he felt it too. Phoebe’s heart raced with the confirmation that he was not indifferent to her. Whatever his reason, it was definitely not aversion. She wondered why he had refused her in the garden. Perhaps it was lack of money, but he didn’t seem to want for it. Or perhaps he found such a business arrangement distasteful?
    “Well, gentlemen,” DeVere said. “I’ve just dropped a gauntlet. No horses, cocking, cards, dice, or seducing women, as there’s no challenge for me there. Do I have any takers?”
    The loser of five hundred guineas earlier that night, Lord Malden perked up at the opportunity to win it back and then some. “Then what kind of challenge are you proposing?”
    “Whatever quest your feeble minds can conjure. If I don’t accomplish the feat, I am a thousand guineas poorer.”
    “I confess a vivid imagination.” Lord Carlisle chortled. “Perhaps you could try to beat Fox’s record of posting to Paris and back in thirty-six hours. What the devil was it for, Fox?”
    “A particular chartreuse waistcoat I had admired. Had gold frogs embroidered on it. You know what a dandy I am.” Fox laughed.
    “In almost thirty years, no one has yet beat Lord March’s racing chaise record.”
    DeVere dismissed the notion. “I said no horses.”
    “Steal a lion from the Royal Menagerie?” Lord Malden suggested.
    DeVere looked to Ned with a grin. “If I recall, we both agreed that roasted lion had a rather unpleasantly gamey taste.” He gave a dismissive wave of the hand. “No. Nothing further with animals. It’s all been done before. Come now.” His eyes gleamed. “You can do better.”
    “I have a proposal.” All eyes turned to the Prince of Wales, grinning like a monkey escaped from the aforementioned Royal Menagerie. “And one that has certainly never been done before. But I fear, even