A Rake's Ruin (Devilish Lords Book 1) Read online

  A Rake’s Ruin

  Devilish Lords

  Maggie Dallen

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  A Duke’s Distraction

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Claire Cleveland watched from the upstairs balcony as the guests clustered on the dancefloor below. Everyone was here, it seemed, either to revel with the Earl of Davenport and his new bride at their newfound wedded bliss or to gawk at the reformed rake and his scandalous wife.

  The scandalous wife in question was Claire’s younger sister Anne, the new Countess of Davenport. Their other sister, Georgie, was the first to say what Claire was thinking. “I do believe your first ball is a success, Anne.”

  Anne wrinkled her nose. “Are you quite certain?”

  Claire patted her arm reassuringly. “Without a doubt.” She knew what this ball meant to her sister. Anne and her husband, Frederick, were trying to turn over a new leaf within society. Her husband, who’d long been known as the Devil of Davenport, had decided to reform his image and attempt to become an upstanding member of society.

  And all because of her sister.

  Claire shook her head now, still in shock all these weeks later at the sudden change of fortune in their lives.

  Anne was lovely, no one could doubt that. With her fiery red hair and her pretty figure, she was a beauty beyond compare. But, despite that, no one had thought for a second that she would marry well—certainly not well enough to save their family from the debts their eldest brother, Jed, had gotten them into with his gambling.

  For though she was beautiful, Anne was one of the younger Cleveland siblings, which meant her parentage was up for debate. In fact, in Anne’s case, there was no doubt that she was illegitimate, despite the fact that their father had taken her in and their mother had raised her as one of her own. But of course, that was only common knowledge within the family. No one openly acknowledged her illegitimacy in society, but the whispers had been enough to damn her from the start.

  As the only one of the siblings to have a spotless reputation, it had been assumed that Claire would be the one to marry well and, hopefully, save their family and their home. But as luck would have it, the earl—who Anne had picked out for her to marry—had fallen head over heels for her sister, and vice versa.

  Even now, she caught Anne’s gaze flickering to her husband down below as he made the rounds and, more shockingly, made nice with the ton.

  The smile that Anne wore could only be described as witless. The poor girl was besotted. And with her own husband, no less.

  Claire shook her head again. She was still in awe at her sister’s lack of good sense. Anne was quite possibly the smartest of them all so the fact that she had fallen for this love nonsense made it that much more remarkable.

  Georgie, the middle sister, who shared Claire’s blonde hair and blue eyes but not her jaded views, seemed oblivious to Anne’s distracted husband-gazing. “Yes, I do believe this ball is the best of the season.”

  Claire and Anne exchanged a quick look of amusement. “It’s the only ball of the season,” Anne pointed out. “The season has only just begun.”

  “Still,” their sister said loyally, “I predict it will be the best of them all.”

  Georgie was a sweet girl and just about as cheerful as any one person could be. Even when their fortune had been lost and they had been in danger of losing their home, Georgie had been in good spirits, eternally hopeful that they would somehow miraculously be saved.

  And they had been saved, and by the Devil of Davenport, no less. But no one aside from Georgie would call the earl’s sudden descent into madness a miracle.

  Anne called it true love.

  Claire called it good luck.

  Claire might be the luckiest of them all. As Anne liked to point out, there was now no desperate need for Claire to marry well. Or at all, even. Davenport had paid off all of Jed’s debts and given the family ample money to get them back in the clear.

  Jed had told her the details of the deal, which included that Jed work off the money. She knew without having to ask that Davenport made that stipulation to ensure that Jed learned his lesson and did not fall victim to his gambling addiction in the future.

  The condition was sensible and she approved. The thought of her elder brother with his wicked habits and dangerous friends threatened to dim her happiness on Anne’s first successful ball. She sought Jed out in the crowd below them. Fear nagged at her, making her stomach twist when she should be reveling in Anne’s triumph.

  Instead she warily searched for her brother. She knew Jed had good intentions, but good intentions were rather meaningless, along with well wishes and words of love. All sounded pretty but held no substance.

  Claire spotted Jed’s dark blonde head in the crowd, but her temporary relief fled when she saw who he was speaking to.

  Lord Nicholas Galwin, second son of the Duke of Roxborough. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the handsome, sharp features, the dark hair and that devilish grin.

  Galwin might be a gentleman by birth, but he was a scoundrel by nature. A notorious womanizer, a shameless flirt, and, worst of all, a fellow gambler who sat by and watched as Jed nearly destroyed their lives.

  Anger made her stiffen at the sight of him, affronted by his stylish clothes as much as that superior smirk. But, as always, she reined in the fiery emotion and hid it behind a simper, the way she’d been taught.

  Simpering was an art, really. For Claire to find that balance between coquette and innocent was her mother’s greatest wish when she’d been a girl, and Claire had done her best to succeed. Now it was second nature to don a simpering smile even as she raged inside when an old, married gentleman leered at her behind his wife’s back, or when a lady of the ton slighted one of her younger siblings.

  Gathering up her skirts, she murmured an excuse to Anne and Georgie before making her exit. Hurrying down the stairs, she kept her gaze fixed on the two men. They were both tall so it was easy to keep them in sight.

  Add to the fact that Lord Nicholas was ridiculously handsome and she could keep track of them by the murmurs and stares of the ladies she passed when she lost sight of their heads in the crowd.

  Lord Nicholas was one of her brother’s closest friends. He was also the bane of her existence. She had no proof to offer that Galwin was behind her brother’s gambling problems, but she was willing to wager that he’d done little to help matters.

  At best he was an enabler, at worst he was a wretched influence on her weak but loveable brother. And there he was now, whispering in Jed’s ear about who knew what.

  If she didn’t know better she’d think she was looking at a religious tableau come to life. The Temptation of St. Anthony. Oh, not that her brother was so very saintly, but Galwin could quite accurately be described as a devil.

  She drew closer, watching as the handsome rake smiled at something Jed said.

  The man had a beautiful smile—all pearly white teeth despite his rotten soul. His dark hair was neatly cut, though there was that one lock that insisted on falling into his face, as if even his hair knew that he deserved to have a roguish air.

  He was too handsome, she decided as she drew close. Too handsome and he knew it. His every move held a swagger, as if he was God’s gift to mankind.

  Or womankind, rather. She didn’t miss the way all female eyes in the vicinity watched him.

  Please stop encouraging his ego, she wanted to tell them. But she wouldn’t say something so appallingly rude, obviously. She couldn’t.

  Could she?

  She stopped midstride, causing a gentleman to bump into her at her abrupt halt.

  “My apologies, miss,” he said.

  She gave him a smile. Or at least, she hoped she did. She intended to. But at that particular moment she was incapable of simpering, for she had been struck with a revelation.

  Why couldn’t she say something rude? Her breath came in rapid bursts as the full weight of her newfound freedom struck her. For weeks now, ever since her betrothal, Anne had been trying to tell her this but only now did it truly occur to her that she could step outside the well-ordered boundaries of society.

  She wouldn’t, she told herself quickly. But she could.

  For most of her life, she had known that her family had an air of scandal about them. Thanks to her philandering father and his propensity for procreation, they had all been raised under scrutiny. As the eldest and most eligible female, she had been told time and again that her actions would determine the fate of the family. It had fallen to her to be the perfect lady, the epitome of righteousness and decorum.

  And now? She blinked at the man who’d bumped her though she could not focus on him long enough to remember his name. Lord…something or other. That did not matter. Not now. For now, it was truly becoming clear to her. Anne had married an earl. Their financial woes were over. No one needed her to be perfect, not anymore.

  She should not let this go to her head, she told herself even as her breathing grew so shallow she thought she might faint. She should not take advantage
of this newfound freedom and do something scandalous.

  Why shouldn’t she?

  She blinked rapidly once more and then smiled brilliantly at the man who was now backing away from her, regarding her with the sort of wariness one normally reserved for pickpockets or the criminally insane. “Are you quite all right, Miss Cleveland?”

  She tried to bring his face into focus. An older silver-haired gentleman, he looked remarkably like every other old man in this place. For the life of her she couldn’t remember his name. Caulwell or Cauliman…Cauliflower, perhaps. I’m quite all right, Lord Cauliflower.

  She bit her lip to keep from uttering such absurdity, but she couldn’t hold back a laugh at the audacious thought.

  Lord Cauliflower frowned at her and she swallowed down another laugh. “I am quite all right, my lord, thank you. If you will excuse me, I must find my brother.”

  She spun away before another laugh escaped. But really, after a lifetime of being acutely aware of maintaining a demure demeanor, the notion that she might let down her guard was overwhelming.

  Claire had always known she was the family’s great hope—at landing a title and then, as their brother’s gambling led them into financial distress, at saving their land and their home. Even as a child she’d been decreed a beauty and her mother had ensured that she had the best dresses, the latest hairstyle, the finest creams and lotions for her skin, and that she maintained a perfect figure, even if it meant going hungry.

  But it wasn’t just her looks that made her the family’s most marriageable asset, as Anne used to call her. It was her reputation. Out of them all, she was the sole female sibling whose lineage had never been questioned by the gossips who kept the rumor mill running.

  As the eldest girl, no one doubted that she was truly her mother’s daughter. It certainly helped matters that she was the very image of the great Mrs. Cleveland. Her parents may not have held titles, but their combined wealth had given them a fair amount of pull in society.

  But then their wealth was gone and Claire’s marriage prospects were all they’d had…right up until Anne shocked them all by marrying the Devil of Davenport. Or rather, the Earl of Davenport. His real title took some getting used to after knowing him as the devil for so long.

  But he was the very reason she needed to seek out Jed. She spotted her brother’s blond hair through the crowd. The earl had given him a second chance, and in doing so he’d given them all a second chance.

  Now it was up to her to ensure that Jed didn’t ruin it.

  Was it up to her? This new voice, the one that had apparently been set free tonight, taunted her from the back of her mind. Why did she have to be the responsible one? That wasn’t her role anymore. At least, it didn’t have to be.

  She shushed that voice as she drew close enough to hear Jed’s voice as he spoke to that reprobate, Galwin.

  “I cannot go back there, George, you know that,” he said.

  She stopped at his side. “You cannot go where?”

  Both men whirled to face her with varying shades of surprise. Jed’s eyes widened and he blinked repeatedly.

  He looked guilty. She pressed her lips together and tried to rein in her temper. Out of habit, she began to count backwards slowly from ten. It was a convenient tool her mother had taught her that helped her to maintain an air of dignity and poise no matter what emotions roiled beneath the surface.

  She stopped when she reached seven. What did it matter if Jed saw that she was irritated? She spared a glance at Galwin, with his smug smile and his devilishly handsome features. She certainly did not care what he thought of her or her temper.

  Tilting her chin up, she resolutely ignored her brother’s irksome friend and focused instead on her clearly guilt-ridden older brother. “You cannot go where?” she demanded.

  Jed’s eyes widened at the rare show of temper. Granted, she hadn’t so much as raised her voice, but her tone held an edge that was previously unheard of from her.

  Simpering and docile. That was the way Galwin had described her at a party the year before. She’d overheard him laughing at her with some of her brother’s other friends.

  Simpering and docile. They’d been true, which had made them all the more hateful.

  The words taunted her now and it took all of her will to keep her gaze locked on her brother rather than face Galwin.

  She wasn’t at all certain what she might say in this state. Not only was she angry but she was…Well, she felt out of control. For quite possibly the first time in her life, she could not see and feel the boundaries she’d long since set for herself.

  No, that wasn’t quite right. She could feel them, but for the first time she questioned them. She doubted them. Did she always need to be simpering and docile?

  And if she wasn’t, what then? How would she act if her reputation was not the crux on which her family’s fortune hung?

  “I, uh…” Her brother looked to Galwin as if for help.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Does Lord Nicholas hold all the answers, Jed? Surely you can answer such a simple question on your own.”

  She didn’t have to see Galwin to know that he was staring at her in shock. She could feel his mocking gaze focused upon her.

  “Yes, Jed,” he drawled in that teasing tone she knew and despised. “Do tell your eavesdropping little sister what we were discussing. Surely it’s her right.”

  She stiffened at his tone. What gave him the right to sound so judgmental? It wasn’t his family who’d very nearly lost everything to Jed’s gambling while he’d stood by and watched.

  Jed’s gaze shot to his friend before returning to her. “Claire,” he said quietly. “I’ll explain everything later.” His eyes shifted to the people standing around them. He looked uncertain and afraid, as if he worried about how this might appear or what they might overhear.

  Ha! She pressed her lips together to hold back another laugh that bordered on hysterical. Jed was worried about appearances and she was not. It was as though the world as they knew it had been flipped upside down.

  Jed leaned in closer, studying her with obvious concern. “Are you feeling quite all right?”

  A short laugh escaped from between her lips. “You sound just like Lord Cauliflower.”

  “Lord who?” Jed’s brow furrowed in confusion and concern as he looked from her to Galwin, as if that rake understood her better than her own brother.

  “Jed, we don’t have time for this,” Galwin said, all mockery and teasing gone from his voice as he addressed her brother.

  Of course, her brother the reprobate gambler deserved Galwin’s respect, but heaven forbid he look at her as anything other than a pestering little sister.

  A simpering and docile pestering little sister, that new voice pointed out.

  Jed gave her an apologetic wince. “He’s right. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  She reached out for him, clutching his sleeve as panic edged her voice. “Please, don’t leave.”

  She didn’t know where he was going but she didn’t need to. Wherever he was going, he was heading toward trouble. The fact that Galwin was goading him on told her as much, as did the fact that he didn’t feel comfortable telling her the truth.

  He gave her another apologetic grimace as he gently pried her fingers from his arm. “I’m sorry, Claire. I promise we’ll talk later.”

  He turned his back and started weaving through the crowd before she could protest again.

  He’d left her there. To do heaven knows what.

  Worse, he’d left her alone with Galwin, of all people.

  “Don’t worry, darling,” Galwin said. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

  She turned to her brother’s friend, truly looking at him for the first time since she’d approached. She’d ignored him on purpose. Standing so close to Galwin had always made her uncomfortable, not just because of his constant teasing and mockery, but because he was too handsome for his own good. And he knew it.

  That was what made her so uncomfortable. She didn’t mind being around handsome men, in general, but with Galwin it was different. He was different. He held himself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.