Regency Wagers Read Online Free Page B

area best known for housing Cyprians of the ton and, therefore, acceptable for a gentleman.
    His entourage spilled out into the street, the little maidgrabbing the portmanteau before Devlin could reach it. He began to chuckle. To anyone passing by at this hour, the women would appear as two more fancy pieces under protection. As long as the bundle in Miss England’s arms remained covered, that is.
    Devlin walked to his entrance halfway round to the back.
    Wait until Bart saw what he had won at cards. The sergeant’s face when they came in the door would make this whole escapade worthwhile.
    Devlin had once saved Bart’s life on the battlefield. Ever since, the older man made it his mission to take care of him. Primary among Bart’s self-imposed duties was tempering Devlin’s rash, impulsive nature—a task at which he was doomed to fail.
    Live for the moment. As a creed, it was as good as any.
    Hmmph, more like a curse, Devlin thought. That particular creed had gotten him sent down from a school or two, but, from the time his late father had purchased his colours, it had meant survival. Now, however, it meant he had the charge of two women and a child.
    He glanced over his shoulder. The women were not following. They stood on the spot where the hackney had left them, looking as lost as waifs.
    Devlin cursed himself. They presumed he would abandon them. When had he ever passed by a creature in need? In his youth, one of his impulsive habits had been collecting stray animals which he’d then had to conceal from his father.
    He walked back to the women. Three more strays to add to his collection.
    ‘This way, if you please.’ He wrested the portmanteau from the maid again. ‘My abode is humble, to be sure, but will have to do.’
    Miss England stood her ground. ‘You need not trouble yourself, Lieutenant.’
    ‘Nonsense,’ he replied. ‘We shall contrive something. The streets are too dangerous for you.’
    With halting steps she followed him through the narrow alley. Her maid crept close behind. The sky had brightened, showing signs of becoming a magnificent day.
    Devlin knocked on the door and only a moment passed before it opened. ‘Good morning, Bart,’ he said in a cheerful manner. ‘I trust you have not been up all night waiting for me.’
    ‘Half the night is all, then I consigned you to Jericho and took to—’ Pale brown eyes in a weathered face widened.
    ‘I’ve brought guests.’ Devlin smiled as he dragged in the portmanteau. Bart’s astonished expression was as rewarding as he could have wished. ‘Not guests, really. Charges, you might say.’ He stepped aside to let the women enter. ‘Bart, may I present my charges.’ He swept his arm in a graceful gesture. ‘Miss England and Sophie.’
    The little maid stepped forward cautiously and curtsied.
    Devlin tossed Bart an amused glance as he shrugged off his coat. ‘Where are your manners, Bart? Take the lady’s cloak.’
    Bart, mouth open, did as he was bid.
    Devlin turned to Miss England. ‘Allow me to assist you.’ He stepped behind her and unclasped the fastening under her chin, removing the garment.
    As the cloak fell away, the child in Miss England’s arms whimpered in her sleep.
    ‘My God,’ exclaimed Bart.
    Devlin laughed. ‘This is Miss England’s daughter…um…’
    ‘Linette.’ Miss England turned to face Devlin, and he had his first good look at her.
    His memory had not failed him. Her face was almost regal in its loveliness. Her skin shone like fine porcelain, except for finger-shaped splotches of blue. Her lips were the identical colour to a rose that had grown in his mother’s garden. Her lush mahogany-coloured hair cascaded down her shoulders, the perfect frame for a perfect face. She met his appreciationwith a bold gaze, her intelligent blue eyes reflecting both youthful innocence and knowledge far beyond her years.
    Devlin’s breath left his lungs.
    ‘I…I do not know your true name…’ he managed, feeling his