The Tempting of a Devilish Lord (The Lords of Scandal Row Book 2)

by Samantha Holt

  Like congregate in the country to escape this bloody scandal that was beginning to haunt every one of them.

  Adam peered at him. “Why are you here then, Alex?”

  “I fancied some country air,” he said vaguely.

  “Ha, you never come here. Mrs. Jones said the last time you were here was two years ago.” Leo thrust a finger toward him. “You are escaping London.”

  “And women,” Adam added.

  “And you two aren’t?”

  “I fancied some country air,” Leo mimicked.

  “Me too,” Adam confirmed.

  “If you two are so convinced you can avoid temptation, why not return to London?”

  “I do not see why I should have to leave.” Leo folded his arms.

  Adam shook his head. “Nor I.”

  Alex drew in a long breath. All three of them were famed for being stubborn almost as much as they were famed for being rogues and rakes. It would take a tidal wave from the lake to force them back to London. He didn’t have a chance in hell of ridding himself of them.

  He turned to head inside and paused. “Say, do you know why the town is swarming with women?”

  “Maybe they followed me?” Adam said, offering a devilish smile. “London is likely missing me already.”

  “Then perhaps you should return to London after all and they can all follow you back there,” Alex retorted.

  Adam’s smile widened. “I told you he would struggle.” He nudged Leo. “Alex cannot resist the lure of the opposite sex.”

  “I can resist just fine. Much more easily than you can, I would wager.”

  Adam rubbed his hands together. “Oh, you know I cannot resist a wager.”

  “And you?” Alex looked to Leo.

  His brother glanced at the house, his expression distracted, then shook his head. “Not for me.”

  Alex shared a look with Adam. Something strange was occurring with Leo. He might not have seen either of his brothers for some time, but he knew when they were up to something. But what could it be?

  ∞∞∞

  LUCINDA PAUSED FOR breath and twisted to view the path they had taken up the hill. They hadn’t gained much height yet, but her breaths already grew short.

  “Are you certain the ruin is up here?” she called to her sister who marched on several paces ahead.

  “Oh yes. Mrs. Gleeson from the tea shop said as much.” Mary-Anne turned to face her and motioned impatiently. “Come on. We need to make haste if we wish to meet Mama for supper.”

  Lucinda glanced past Mary-Anne and grimaced. “I’m not so certain I want to see this ruin.”

  “Lies!” Mary-Anne snatched her skirts and closed the gap between them, taking awkward, stomping steps toward her until she could grab Lucinda’s hand. “You love castles. You love all things medieval. Why would you not wish to see this ruin? Mrs. Gleeson said it was built by a nobleman in the thirteenth century whose ancestors all survived the plague because they remained in the castle.”

  “Mrs. Gleeson says many things. I would not take them all for granted.”

  And Lucinda knew enough of the history behind the ruins to know that was an exaggeration. When their mother had announced their visit to the town, Lucinda had hungrily gobbled up every ounce of information she could on the area.

  That did not mean she wanted to hike a blasted mountain to see the thing.

  Mary-Anne tugged on her hand. “Does it matter? It’s a castle, Lucinda. Is there anything you love more?”

  “It’s quite the distance. I do not think Mama—”

  Her sister made a dismissive noise. “Will you cease caring what Mama thinks for one moment?”

  Shoulders straight, Lucinda stared her sister down.

  Well, up technically thanks to the steep slope, but she plastered on her most imposing older sister look, one that had always been guaranteed to quell her sister’s argumentative nature while Mama was resting with one of her many, many headaches.

  “I am charged with looking after you, Mary-Anne,” she said. “I am not going to let you do something irresponsible.”

  Mary-Anne rolled her eyes. “There is nothing irresponsible about a little walk, and I think if I have to sit at tea with Mama’s friends any longer, I might very well scream.” She released Lucinda’s hand and folded her arms. “Besides, I’m a woman. I hardly need looking after anymore.”

  “You are scarcely a woman,” Lucinda muttered.

  “I heard that.” Mary-Anne put hands to hips and set her with a bold look.

  Lucinda poked her tongue out briefly. “I meant for you too.”

  Her sister shifted her hands, gesturing vaguely. “I do not understand you, Lucy. All I remember from when I was little was you speaking of castles and knights and how you were going to explore and document every single one. Recall all the gruesome stories you told me? Especially the one about Edward, where they shoved a poker—”

  “Cease!” Lucinda begged. “I most certainly should never have told a little girl that story. It was reckless of me.”

  “It was not reckless—it was fun.”

  Fun? Lucinda drew in a long breath. Perhaps it had been. But she learned the hard way that one should not live for fun when one is a young lady. If she wanted better for her sister, her dreams of castles and adventuring simply had to be consigned to the past.

  “Let us continue,” Lucinda pleaded.

  She could not bear for her sister to poke at the past any longer. That young lady who had spoken of travelling the country was long gone, taken in one night by her own silliness, and she did not wish to dwell on it any longer. “If we are to ever find this castle, we should make haste. It looks as though it might rain.” She eyed the clouds ahead critically, spying one particular gray one that did not look welcoming at all.

  Mary-Anne waved a dismissive hand. “We will be fine.”

  Gathering her skirts, Lucinda took a few more steps up the slope of the hill. Mary-Anne blessedly ceased arguing and followed suit, moving at pace. They reached the top of the hill and the gray cloud vanished, so Lucinda allowed herself a little moment to relax and take in the views of the generous lake below and the hills and mountains spread out about them. She allowed herself a smile.

  “I saw that,” her sister said.

  “Saw what?” she straightened her lips.

  “You were imagining things. I know that look.”

  “You know nothing.” She was not some silly girl who dreamed of silly things like knights and castles and days of old. “I’m simply enjoying the view.”

  Mary-Anne pursed her lips. “I do not see this ruin.”

  Lucinda frowned and put a hand to her bonnet as a gust of wind whipped about them, ruffling their skirts. “Neither do I and it’s getting a little blustery up here. Perhaps we should return.”

  “It must be here somewhere. Mrs. Gleeson was quite emphatic about it.”

  “Perhaps she was mistaken.”

  Mary-Anne pointed to a large rocky outcrop, jutting from near the very top of the next hill. “Why do we not walk over there? That looks like a fine vantage point.”

  The great slabs of stone looked as though they had been laid by giants once, rather like dominos angled together. Lucinda could not deny that Cumbria was a beautiful place. However, they also looked a fine spot for her sister to get into some mischief of some sort. She wasn’t certain what Mary-Anne could do with some rocks, but trouble found Mary-Anne in the strangest of places.

  “I think we should return to Mama.”

  “Nonsense. We have come all this way. It shall not take another ten minutes.”

  “Mary-Anne,” she warned.

  “Please, Lucy,” her sister begged. “I cannot stand another afternoon of tea and dull chatter, and we are so close. I’m sure this castle is here somewhere.”

  Lucinda eased out a breath, tried to harden herself to her sister’s pleading gaze, then sighed. “Very well. Just to that rock then we are returning to town.”

  Mary-An
ne’s grin turned triumphant and Lucinda regretted giving in. It would not make life any easier in future.

  They made their way up to the next hill, following a tiny worn path through the grass. Sheep grazed on the hill, scampering as soon as either of them came near. Thanks to their father’s work, they tended to spend most of their time in London so a visit to the country had not been unwelcome, and were it not for her sister’s determination to have an adventure, Lucinda would be enjoying the sights.

  She also, admittedly, would not mind finding this castle. But there was only so long two ladies could trek across the hills of Cumbria before they ran into trouble.

  Mary-Anne paused at the base of the gray rocks and pivoted around. “I wonder if the ruin is very small and we simply cannot see it.”

  “We have a fine view.” Lucinda scanned the area. “I do not see how we have missed it.”

  Grabbing her skirts, Mary-Anne stepped onto the first rock. “I’ll get a better view.”

  Lucinda snatched her sister’s arm. “You will not. What if you twist an ankle and I have to cart you down the hill somehow?”

  “I will not twist an ankle. My ankles are exceedingly strong.”

  “And you are exceedingly prone to injury.”

  “Very well.” Mary-Anne jumped down from the rock. “You go instead.”

  “Or we just return home.”

  “Are you scared?”

  Lucinda fixed her sister with a look. “Of a rock? Hardly.”

  “Well, then you go.”

  Lucinda peered up at the large slabs. They looked conquerable but young ladies did not spend time climbing giant rocks in search of castle ruins that may or may not only exist in Mrs. Gleeson’s head.

  “Please, Lucy. Otherwise we came all this way for nothing.”

  She exhaled slowly. “Oh, very well.” Once she had confirmed there was nothing of interest, they could return in one piece.

  She clambered her way to the top, rather wishing she had at least removed her bonnet and handed it to Mary-Anne when a strong gust threatened to tear it from her head. Once she reached the final slab, she paused, drew in a long breath and smiled.

  “Goodness.”

  “Do you see anything?”

  “No castles,” she called down to her sister. But what a view it was. She supposed allowing her sister to bully her into the climb had not been so terrible. Below, the lakes and hills were spread out like a feast for her senses. It was hard to believe a lake could be so large, splitting the scenery almost into two.

  Another gust of wind tore around her, sending ribbons into her face and her skirts wrapping around her ankles. She put out a hand to steady herself but there was nothing to snatch at and she lost her footing a little, wavering for a movement.

  “Eeek.” To save herself from toppling over, she dropped hard onto her rear, lest the wind tear her from it entirely. A hand to her chest, she felt the rapid thud of her heart and grimaced at what was likely going to be a bruised bottom.

  “Is everything all right?” her sister called, her voice scarcely audible above the gale. “It’s getting frightfully windy.”

  Lucinda grimaced and pressed herself up from the rock to peer down the path she had taken. “Yes and no.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She grimaced. “I’m not certain I can get down.”

  Chapter Three

  Alex narrowed his gaze and drew his horse to a slow stop. Wonderful. Now he was hearing women on the wind. Considering the level of noise coming from the village this afternoon, perhaps their voices had carried.

  They were all still there. In the shops, the tea room, out on the lake. Swarms of them, young and old. According to Mrs. Jones, some bloody bright young chap had written of the town and the healing nature of the air. Now every woman in Christendom had descended upon it.

  There was nothing healing about the place. Yes, the air was a darn sight cleaner than London but no more so than any other village in England. The man had practically sold snake oil to the women of England.

  He clenched his jaw. If it were any other time, he wouldn’t complain one jot. But not right now. He could not afford to be distracted. It might have been his mother’s tears that persuaded him to come to Langmere but there was no doubting the rumors of Miss Kingsley’s state and whoever put her in such a situation had encouraged him to agree with her. He’d already suffered lectures from a few friends and one of his regular lovers had even refused to meet him. This whole business was ruining his fun.

  Before he ordered his horse on, the sound reached him again. Definitely feminine and certainly not coming from town. He wasn’t hearing things.

  He twisted in the saddle and scanned the hills, finally spotting a lone figure upon Salt Rock, one of the largest rock formations in the area. He closed his eyes briefly. What the devil was a woman doing all the way up there? He’d climbed it many times as a boy and even without the encumberment of skirts and corsets, it was no easy ascent.

  Of course, he could turn around and head home. Pretend he had not seen anything. If some old crone wanted to climb a rock, who was he to stop her? However, from the wailing sound carrying on the wind, it did not sound as though the woman was too happy about her predicament. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tapped Beau with his heels.

  “Looks like we should go and play rescuer.”

  He covered the distance swiftly enough, having followed the paths worn into the hills hundreds of times since childhood. He dismounted not far from the rock formation and gave Beau a pat. “Won’t be long with any luck,” he assured the gelding.

  From his position at the base of the rock, he saw no sign of the woman until a bonneted head peeked over.

  “Mary-Anne?” she asked hopefully.

  He lifted a brow and eyed the woman.

  “You’re not Mary-Anne.”

  “No.”

  A wide, wary gaze met his. He couldn’t ascertain the color of them from here, but red curls fluttered beneath the bonnet. He cursed his luck. The redheaded woman from by the lake, the one who had drawn his attention.

  Of course.

  Naturally.

  Who else would it be? It could not be some wizened old thing. No, it had to be a pretty woman wrapped in delicate green with hair the color of fire.

  His favorite.

  All he had to do was offer her aid then walk away. How difficult could that be? Given his history, pretty darned difficult but a man could change, could they not? And he had vowed he would to his mother. At least temporarily. After the death of his wife, many years ago, he had little desire to be a one-woman man.

  “My sister has gone for help.” She waved a hand. “You may go.”

  He let his lips slant into an amused smile as she waved him away as though she were a queen dismissing her subjects. Given she had to be lying flat on her front, the regal nature of it all rather impressed him.

  “I see no sign of her.”

  “Well, she walks very fast. She might well be in town by now.”

  “I could have you down and safe before she returns. Would that not be better?”

  “I’m quite well.” She waved a hand again. “Do go on. The views are spectacular from here.”

  He nodded. “I know, though they are better enjoyed when one is not lying on their stomach.”

  “I—” She paused. “It is a little windy. I risk being pushed over if I stand.”

  “Shall I come up to you?”

  She shook her head vigorously. “Oh no. Please do go on, sir. I am quite well.”

  He glanced up at the clouds and pointed east. “It’s going to get worse. Maybe even rain. This area of the country is known for being windy.”

  She craned her neck, and he swore he heard her sigh over the wind. “I shall manage, I am certain.”

  This was getting silly. She had no reason to deny his aid. In fact, most women would be practically begging for it, whether they were in trouble or not. “I’m coming to you.”

  �
��No, sir,” she protested.

  He whipped off his hat and jacket, stashing it near the base of the rocks.

  “Sir,” she continued, “there is really no nee—”

  She shut up when he flicked open his cufflinks and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He glanced up to find her head gone. Had the woman been blown off the top of the rock entirely? He shook his head to himself and began to climb the rock.

  Once he was one step from the top, he spotted her, lying on her back, her arms and legs splayed out like a starfish. The green dress he’d spotted spread out about her, a soft feminine splash against the hard, gray rock. He spied gentle curves and surmised her to be fairly tall.

  “You’re still here then.”

  She pushed up on her elbows. “Yes, I’m still here.”

  Her cheeks were red and her eyes blue. All she needed was some touch of purple and she would practically be a rainbow.

  A tempting rainbow.

  Her slightly wide jaw held lips that were currently pursed with annoyance but were generous and her eyes were huge—so big he feared he might get lost in them.

  Alex stretched out a bare hand. “Twist around and I can aid you down.”

  “I think I’m stuck.” The woman lay her head back down, apparently resigned.

  He frowned. “Your gown is caught?”

  She rolled her head back and forth against the rock. “No, I cannot move. I’m not certain why. Maybe I should just stay here.”

  “Ah.”

  He recognized this. He’d seen it on his climbing expeditions. One could be perfectly fine then the next moment frozen in fear. Men who were entirely capable and experienced would find themselves on one particular bit of rock and suddenly they were frozen.

  He eased out a breath. He supposed he was going to have to haul her down somehow. “Stay where you are,” he ordered and then realized the stupidity of such a command. “We shall get you down, do not fear.”

  ∞∞∞

  LUCINDA HADN’T FELT fear until she had decided to sit on the rock while she got her bearings. Then it had swooped over her suddenly, pressing down on her chest as she surveyed the height of the rocks and the expanse of the land about her.