Let Love Find You by Johanna Lindsey Page B

come before love, and I’ve regretted that to this day. Yes, I let it be known that she’d married and her husband died just after you were born. She was soangry at me that she wouldn’t use the name I created for him, though she did use the story, merely telling people she preferred her maiden name since she hadn’t been married long.”
    His uncle’s words stirred a memory that Devin had long forgotten. “She told me once, ‘You don’t know what it’s like to love like this. I hope you never find out.’ I’d asked about my father that day. That was her excuse for not wanting to talk about him. But she was talking about my real father, wasn’t she?”
    “I honestly don’t know, Dev. I don’t doubt she loved him. I think that’s why she wouldn’t come home. She wanted to be near him even if he wouldn’t—couldn’t marry her.”
    “Lord Wolseley, the bloody landlord?”
    Donald’s eyes snapped open, hearing the hatred in Devin’s voice. “Wolseley? He was a friend of your mother’s, yes, but he wasn’t her landlord. She owned that house. Your father gave that to her.”
    “Then why would she say—never mind, just a lie, obviously, to explain his many visits late of a night. He was her lover! She sent me away because of him!”
    “Devin, no, that wasn’t it. She sent you away because you were starting to ask questions and she felt you were too young to hear the answers. When she asked me to come get you, she told me what you mistakenly thought, and that when you were older, she would explain to you about your real father. I don’t know if she loved Wolseley, but I’m sure she loved your father. She never would tell me who he was. She was afraid I’d try to kill him and I probably would have. He paid for your schooling, you know. I could have done so. I almost threw away that anonymous missive that arrived, telling me your entire education was already paid for and the name of the school that was expecting you.”
    “Why didn’t you?”
    “Because I wasn’t going to spite you just because I hated him. And your aunt convinced me that it was the best thing for you. What you learned there and the contacts you made would allow you to move in the highest echelons of society. And to be honest, I felt he owed you that, at least, since he otherwise didn’t want to be part of your life.”
    Devin still didn’t believe it, that Lawrence Wolseley wasn’t his father. His mother had lied to him. Why wouldn’t she have lied to her brother, too? All to protect that bastard that she loved so much she’d abandoned her family for him, her entire family. Someday he was going to confront Wolseley about it. But he wasn’t going to upset his uncle further over a subject that had no resolution—yet.
    For five years he got so involved in the day-to-day running of Donald’s large estate that there wasn’t much time to think of unresolved issues. Donald didn’t just turn it all over to him, he and Lydia were leaving Lancashire for good! They wanted to do some traveling before they got any older, and they were gone for three years doing that. But Lydia also wanted to live again in the city she’d been born and raised in, London. All her old friends were still there and had begged her over the years to bring her talents back to them. She had mostly bred dogs in the country, but she actually excelled at training them as well, and her skills were quite in demand now in London. And Donald had taken up painting, of all things!
    His aunt and uncle had lived in London for four years now—Devin had only been there half as long—and they were happy there, especially now that Devin pretty much lived with them again. That was the real reason he hadn’t fixed up the house on the farm yet.
    His uncle’s town house was nicely located on the west end of Jermyn Street, not far from St. James Square and just south of Piccadilly, which connected to Bond Street, so his daily ride to and from the farm wasn’t long.
    He left