Mama would have a fainting fit if she knew what had happened.
Which was why she needed to get Mary-Anne back before Mama returned from her trip tomorrow. With any luck, sleepy Mrs. Hilton would have little idea either of them had gone anywhere.
She hoped anyway.
“What exactly is it about this castle anyway? The ruins are in rather an impressive location but there are better ruins to be seen elsewhere.”
Alex glanced at her, and Lucinda almost wished he did not. The wind ruffling his hair peeking out from underneath his hat combined with the strong, determined lock of his jaw, dashing seemed too simple a way to describe him. No doubt Mary-Anne would come up with some much more romantic manner of description, likely stolen from one of the gothic novels she read. Lucinda would be hard pressed not to agree with the description either.
However, it was irrelevant. Lucinda loathed rakes. All of them. Even if they were ridiculously handsome and willing to leap into action to rescue one’s sister. She wasn’t ungrateful for his help but that did not change who Alex was.
It did not change the fact that a rake had nearly ruined her life once. She could not let that happen again.
“We read about the castle in a book once,” Lucinda explained. “Mary-Anne somehow remembered this and has been desperate to see it ever since.”
“And she was that desperate, she did not wish to take you?”
“I had not wanted to go again.” Lucinda bit down on her bottom lip. “I should have just agreed. I should have known she would try to find it herself.”
“She’s a determined sort of young lady.”
“Something like that,” she muttered.
“So you used to read to her about castles? Interesting topic for a young girl.”
She lifted a shoulder. “We covered all sorts of medieval history. I loved it so much I just wanted to share my interest with someone—even if it was my little sister.”
She smiled slightly, recalling how Mary-Anne had crawled into her lap as a girl and begged for Lucinda to read all about battles and knights and how they lived in the past. Lucinda hadn’t been certain how she would get along with her little sister when she was born but it had been easy to love the wild, funny little girl who would rather know about a gory battle than learn her scales.
Which was precisely why she should have tried harder to protect her, to somehow prevent her from following the same path Lucinda had taken. Mary-Anne had little interest in romance, despite having read too many gothic novels for her age, but it would not be long before she paid attention to the opposite sex and with her willful disposition, she did not think it a stretch of the imagination to believe Mary-Anne might follow in her foolish sister’s footsteps. The trouble was, Mary-Anne might not be so lucky as herself. Lucinda had managed to survive it. Mary-Anne might well not.
“If you loved it so much, why did you not wish to see the castle?”
Her throat tightened. It seemed silly for it to hurt. For her to miss feeling that same passion Mary-Anne felt. Though, when her thigh brushed Alex’s yet again she could not help feel, that part of her was not as buried or hidden as she had thought. Though why a mere brush of a leg should make something so long tucked away arise, she did not know.
“Lucy?” he pressed.
She blinked a few times. The man must think her mad, tearing up over the thought of visiting a ruin. She shifted in her seat and tweaked her fichu. “As I mentioned before, I am not so interested in history these days.”
He eyed her for so long that she had to meet his gaze. “Should you not be concentrating on driving?” She peered over the edge of the buggy where the slope of the hill dropped down and would surely mean death if he navigated them wrong.
Alex chuckled and turned his attention back to the narrow path. “I only wonder why you protest so much. Did some beau once tell you they preferred ladies to remain quiet and empty-headed?”
“I have no beau,” she snapped back and then felt guilty when she thought of Bernie. But it was hard to think of Bernie as a beau. His no-nonsense letters were hardly full of romantic prose, and though they had been writing to one another for years now and everyone assumed he would propose one day, the thought of him doing as much did not fill her with unbridled joy.
He was safe, though. And he would certainly never drive at far too fast a pace across a narrow hilltop road.
“I’ve travelled this road many a time,” he said, and she uncoiled her hand from the seat where her knuckles had turned white.
“You drive very fast,” she commented.
“We are in a hurry, are we not?”
“I suppose.”
“Besides, what is the sense in having these marvelous vehicles if one cannot drive fast in them?”
She put a hand to her bonnet as she felt the ribbons tug against her hat. Was it her imagination or was he moving even faster?
“If one does not arrive at one’s destination, it all seems rather pointless.”
“But who knows on what day one will not reach their destination. I could be doing something incredibly dull and drop dead.”
“Well, that’s rather grim.” She glanced at him and noticed the briefest flash of something cross his face—a little pain in his brow perhaps. Mrs. Barker had mentioned the marquis had been married in the past, but she died suddenly, though the conclusion from his rakish reputation was it had not bothered him much.
But perhaps Mrs. Barker was wrong.
“Life can be grim.” He cracked a smile. “Which is why I am determined to make it less so.”
“By killing us on this hilltop.”
He chuckled. “Enjoy the ride, Lucy. You never know when it will end.”
She rolled her eyes, but she could not deny there was the tiniest, tiniest part of her that agreed with him. Clearly, she had learned nothing over the years.
Chapter Eight
“Not too much farther,” Alex assured Lucinda.
“This would be much easier without...” She tugged her gown from where it had snagged on a thistle. “Skirts,” she huffed.
“Well, feel free to take it off.”
She glared at him and he let his grin expand.
“Why are you here anyway?” she demanded.
“I do believe you requested my help...”
“No. In Langmere. Mrs. Jones said you are rarely in residence.”
“Ah.” He paused for a heartbeat. He wasn’t certain he wanted to tell the story of the scandal that had chased him here. Why, however, he did not know. He had done nothing wrong.
Maybe because he still had some vague hope he would win the uptight Lucy over.
Maybe because he could not cease thinking about how perfectly pink her lips were.
It would be better to tell her. If she thoroughly disapproved of him it would make staying away from the female of the species much easier.
“My brothers and I decided we needed a break from Town.”
There. That wasn’t a lie.
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that many, many lovely women have decided to come to Langmere?”
He chuckled. That was a better excuse than he could have come up with. “Actually, I had little idea the place had become a haven for young women. It rather surprised me.”
“Is that why you looked so dour the first time I saw you?”
“I’m glad to know I am not so easily forgotten.”
“That is not what I meant!”
“Why did your mother bring you and Mary-Anne here?” he asked, enjoying the little spots of red on her cheeks, perhaps from exertion but more likely from her frustration with him. Teasing Lucy was fast becoming his favorite pastime, mostly because he had a growing suspicion the dull dresses and tightly wrapped fichus were some kind of disguise. Something else lay under the plain fabric. He just wasn’t certain what yet.
“Mama likes to do anything and everything for her health and several of her friends are here.”
“But you are all well?
”
“My mother worries that one day we will not be, but we are all hale, thank you.”
“You certainly appear to be.”
She blushed anew, ducking her head but not before he saw the color. She enjoyed the flattery, of that he was certain. She might even enjoy their traded words. If she let herself, anyway. A large part of him wanted to grab her, pull away the fabric around her neck, loosen the laces of her gown and unleash whatever was beneath it. The girl that liked castles and knights and gory battles. She had to be there somewhere still.
“Oh.” She paused a few steps behind him, and he turned to find her gazing ahead, her lips parted.
He twisted and followed her gaze toward the ruin. Not much more than some gray, tumbled down walls, the castle offered only a hint of what it once was. The base of a tower rose the highest, up to the level of the first arrow slit. An arch led the way through to low walls, no higher than calf height, but revealed the spread of hills and mountains behind it. He knew the ruin intimately having played in it many a time as a boy, but he never really thought much of it.
It seemed Lucy felt differently. It seemed that young girl was not so deeply buried.
“It’s quite wonderful,” she said on a breath.
Alex shrugged. “I have seen more vast ruins.”
“So have I but what a setting this is. Can you imagine what it must have taken to haul the stone all the way up here?” She twisted a few times, taking in the surroundings. “And what a marvelous defense. The natural hills and gullies would make it virtually impossible for someone to have sacked it.”
“I do believe it was never taken by siege.”
She nodded. “I read as much.”
“So you do still read history books?”
Lucy straightened her shoulders. “That was a long time ago.”
“Why did you say you have no interest in it anymore then?”
“It is hardly proper for a lady to read of such matters, is it?”
“I wouldn’t know much about what is proper for a lady.”
“Yes, I doubt you do,” she said dryly.
“Now, Miss Evans, are you judging me on gossip?”
She fixed him with a look. “The mere fact there is gossip surrounding you tells me all I need to know.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“There is no gossip surrounding me!”
“No, but you have affected this prim young lady persona to perfection. I, however, do not judge merely on appearances.” He let his smile grow smug.
“Well, if I was to judge you on appearances, I would likely not even be on this hill with you right now. After all, you are mightily handsome and—” She clamped her mouth shut and her throat bobbed.
“Will you repeat that last part?” He took her hand and aided her over a tumbled down piece of wall allowing them access to what once would have been the inner bailey of the castle. “I’m afraid I did not catch it.”
She snatched her hand back. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Liar,” he murmured.
“Pardon?”
He smiled genially. Lucinda Evans thought him handsome. Not that he thought otherwise. He was not blind after all. But he liked that fact very much. Too much perhaps.
∞∞∞
LUCINDA COULD NOT help herself. Her imagination had taken flight the moment they’d come upon the castle ruin. Especially with the way Alex strode around it as though he was some Scottish laird or knight in armor. Hard-pressed not to imagine him in one of the suits of armor from Eastwick Hall, she admitted he certainly had the build and confidence of a knight.
Shaking her head, she forced her attention to the task at hand. She should not even be thinking of such things when her sister was missing. She blew out a breath. It did not appear she was at the ruin so where on earth could she be? Where else had her sister shown an interest?
Alex came to her side. “Any sign of her?”
Lucinda shook her head. “There are no secret passageways are there?”
“In this ruin? No.”
She pushed a curl from her face and pressed her lips together. “I cannot think where else she would be. She’s already seen your armory and apart from the castle, she did not tell me of anywhere else she wished to visit.”
“She does not have her eye on a boy, does she?”
“Mary-Anne is not really interested in the opposite sex yet, and there are few boys her age here.”
He lifted a shoulder. “It might be worth going back to town.”
She grimaced. “What if we never find her, Alex? Mama will be distraught and I...” A lump began to gather in her throat. “Lord knows, she’s a handful but she’s my handful.”
“Knowing Mary-Anne, she’s more than well and will be back before long.” He put a hand to her shoulder. “But we will find her before then.”
Swallowing hard, she glanced into his dark eyes, the sincerity behind his expression almost convincing her that, with him at her side, they might well find her before long.
“Very well, let us head back.” She took another look around the castle and smiled softly. “Perhaps if we find her, I shall bring her back here.” Lucinda twisted on her heel and she paused and frowned. “Alex, did it feel like—”
The ground beneath them rumbled, like when a fast-moving carriage went past. But there were no carriages here.
She scarcely had time to comprehend what was happening when the ground shifted beneath her. She instinctively reached for Alex’s arm and dragged him toward her as the ground tilted then dropped abruptly beneath her.
In a tumble of dirt and grass, she dropped before splashing into water deep enough for her to plunge entirely under. She pushed up to the surface, the cold water biting so hard she could barely draw breath. She floundered briefly and shoved her hair from her face, her bonnet long gone, before a firm arm wrapped itself around her waist.
“What...what happened?” She looked to Alex, his features shadowed by gloom. He trod water beside her, his grip on her waist tight, and peered up.
“I should have remembered.”
She followed his gaze and spied the small circle of light above them.
Far too far away.
“A well?”
“Yes.” His breaths were harsh and echoey against the stone. “I forgot it was even here. My father always warned us it had been covered over and not to walk near it.” He paused. “Of course, we always wanted to find it but never did. I assumed it was too buried to be found.”
“We certainly managed to find it.” She put her hand to the slick stone, unable to find purchase with her fingers. Her skirts were growing heavy and the cold made her legs tired already.
“Thank the Lord there was water in here or else we could have wound up with numerous broken bones.”
“Yes, though now we have to stay afloat somehow.” Her teeth chattered so she clamped her jaw together hard.
“Here, hold on to this.” He took her hand and navigated it toward a stone that jutted out. She managed to grip it with her cold fingers, giving her body a little relief from the exhaustion already seeping through her.
“It’s s-so cold.”
“I know.” Alex moved around the edge of the well, water sloshing about the tight confines of their cold, dark prison.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing if I can climb.”
She peered up at the daylight once more and had to crush down a swell of panic. “It’s too far.”
“I’m an excellent climber.” She saw the flash of a smile.
“I-I had heard that, but I think mountains are rather different to old wells.”
As if to spite her, he gripped the wall and hauled himself out of the water.
“Don’t you dare leave me here,” she managed to quip, though the lightness she’d intended to use barely made it to her voice. The thought that this dank, bottomless pit might end up her grave would not leave her. Before long she would lose her grip and the water was de
ep enough to drown in. It was not the sort of end she might have imagined for herself.
“Never,” he assured her. “I have a rope in the buggy.” He cursed softly and she could not tell what he was doing, but he eased himself back down into the water beside her. “I can’t get enough of a purchase to go any further.”
“Oh.”
“Never fear, someone will notice I am gone before long and Quigley knows where I am.”
The unnaturally buoyant tone to his voice did not reassure her. He was lying. By the time someone figured out they were gone, she suspected the cold will have taken hold of them both.
“You should stay up there, out of the water.”
“And leave you? Not likely.”
“My fingers are cold, Alex. I do not know how much longer I can hold on.”
“Well, I can hold on for you.” He moved against her, his chest to her back, and shifted his arms about her so he could grip the wall.
Wrapped in the cocoon of his strong body, for a brief moment she felt safe again. But as she peered at the dark, damp wall of the well, she could not help the fear clawing its way back up her throat.
“Alex,” she whispered. “A-are we going to die here?”
Chapter Nine
The raw vulnerability in Lucy’s voice near broke Alex. He felt his heart clench as though preparing to shatter in two. Whatever it would take, he would get her out of here. He only needed to find a way to climb up. The trouble was, he felt the weakness in her body and how heavy her damned skirts were and feared if he left her clinging to the stone for long, she’d drown.
And it would take him quite a time to make his way to the top, even if he could find enough footholds.
“We will not be here long,” he promised.
“I-I thought it was going to be your driving that would be the end of us.”
“This will not be the end of us, and my driving is excellent, thank you.”
He kept his body pressed close to hers and his jaw clamped tight, so she didn’t hear his teeth chatter. Being so far down in the ground, the water was like ice, biting through his clothing. He’d already divested himself of his jacket and managed to work off his boots, losing them to the dark water beneath so they didn’t weigh him down, but he could not imagine how Lucy felt, surrounded by petticoats and tight corsets.
The Tempting of a Devilish Lord (The Lords of Scandal Row Book 2) Page 6