The Taming of a Wicked Rogue (The Lords of Scandal Row Book 1)

by Samantha Holt

  “Rebecca…” Leo warned.

  “If this lady is owed money, I would see that debt settled.”

  “She could be lying,” he muttered.

  “I doubt it,” she said on a sigh. “My father owed money to about every business here.”

  “Your father?” the woman squawked. “He was your father?” She shook her head and wagged a finger at her. “You should stay away from this woman,” she warned. “If she has her father’s blood in her, no doubt she will take you for all you are worth.” She glanced them over. “It seems you are both already set on living most scandalously.”

  “Please,” Rebecca lifted both hands, “I shall see your debts paid. Just do not tell anyone I am here. I promise I have no ill intentions.”

  The woman set down her walking stick and leaned heavily on it for a few moments. She swung her gaze between them then nodded curtly. “See the debt is paid and I shall be silent.” She gestured with her stick toward a small, white cottage some way up the hillside. “My husband and I live at the farmstead.”

  Rebecca nodded vigorously and watched the woman amble off toward the cottage.

  “She moves fast for an old lady,” Leo commented.

  “And she loathes me and my family.” She closed her eyes briefly. If she believed she had been mistaken in her assumptions for even a moment, she had been proved wrong.

  Chapter Seven

  “How are you enjoying the country, Brother?” Adam dismounted his horse and hastened up the steps to the house with his usual energy. They were close in age, having been born scarcely a year apart and so similar in looks that sometimes people mistook them for twins but, in truth, Leo had not seen Adam in over a year. Whilst Leo enjoyed balls and dinner parties, Adam could more often than not be found in the gaming hells of London.

  He could usually be found winning too. His brother had turned taking money from unsuspecting men into an art form.

  Leo debated telling him of Rebecca, but he had a good several reasons not to. Firstly, Rebecca had no desire for her presence to be known, and after the encounter with that old lady a few days ago, he was beginning to understand why. Secondly, if anyone knew how bruised and battered she had left his heart, it was his brother. The last thing he wanted to do was recount his heartbreak or potentially listen to some lecture on why he should send her away.

  Especially, when Adam might be right.

  “You know how it is. Sheep here, a few hills there,” he said. “Though a darned sight more women.”

  Adam handed his hat over to the butler and ran his hands through his hair. It had grown longer since Leo had seen him last, so at least they’d be less likely to be mistaken for each other during their stay here. “I noticed that. What the devil is going on?”

  “Someone wrote about the place in a book. Apparently they declared it good for one’s health or some such.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I have yet to read it.”

  His brother smirked. “Mother would not be happy to know she sent us away to a place that is now more populated with women than ever. Some quite fine ones too. How will you resist temptation, Leo?”

  Leo rolled his eyes. “Worry about yourself.”

  Despite their more simplified social lives, both of his brothers had reputations as rakes. Which was precisely why they had been implicated in this blasted scandal. He wondered if Rebecca was going to ask why they were all here before long and he rather dreaded explaining it all, though he supposed it would ensure Rebecca maintained her distance from him and he wouldn’t find himself at risk of being heartbroken all over again.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here until I spoke to the gatekeeper,” Adam admitted, peeling off his gloves and finally his jacket. “Seems Alexander is on his way too.”

  Leo nodded. “Mrs. Jones received word that he is due any day, though, I had little idea either, but I won’t complain about being stuck here if I do not have to do it alone.”

  “Seems to me Mother has been scheming.”

  “Or she wants all of her sons out of London and confined to one place. So we do not embarrass her anymore.”

  “I am not the embarrassment, Leo. After all, I had nothing to do with Miss Kingsley’s unfortunate situation.”

  “Well, I did not get her with child.” Leo scowled. “Surely you know me better than that?”

  Adam lifted his shoulders. “You hardly have the reputation of an angel.”

  “Good Lord, Adam, I might indulge in pleasure where I can but not with a damned innocent and I would never abandon a woman to her fate. Hell, for all I know, it was you.”

  “It was not me,” he said firmly.

  “Then it must have been Alexander.”

  Leo made a face. “You really believe so?” He shook his head. “I cannot see him doing such a thing either though, Lord knows, it’s been that long since I’ve seen him.”

  “Last I heard he had climbed Scafell, Snowdon, and Ben Nevis all in two months.”

  “Rather him than me.”

  “Indeed,” Adam agreed. He stretched his arms. “I need to do something active after that tiresome journey. Are the targets set up?”

  Leo smirked. Of course the first thing his brother wanted to do was archery. The last time they played, Leo had beaten him. It was a sport they always played together and there never seemed to be a clear winner, but Leo would happily beat him again if he so wanted and prove his prowess once and for all.

  “Are you certain you want to do that?”

  Adam’s brow lifted. “Beat you? Most certainly.”

  “Unlikely,” he muttered.

  They headed out of the rear doors while Quigley ensured all was set up for them and around the side of the house, toward the large stretch of land that faced the lake. When they were younger they had taken turns trying to fire arrows into the lake, never succeeding but most certainly losing enough arrows that Follet, the groundskeeper, would scold them.

  He glanced at the window of Rebecca’s room and spied no sign of movement. He’d seen her when he brought her food for lunch, but she had grown melancholy after not being able to find this bloody diamond and the encounter with the old lady. Despite himself, he wanted to comfort her. This older Rebecca was more serious than the one he had known and slightly...harder, he supposed. He rather regretted life had done that to her.

  Yet, before everything had gone to hell, they had been laughing together at their dip in the moat. It left him with no doubt that the old Rebecca he’d loved still existed.

  He drew in a breath, notched an arrow and pulled aggressively on the bow. The arrow flew wild, missing the target by a good few feet.

  Beside him, Adam chuckled. “You are rusty, Brother.”

  “Just warming up.” And not thinking about Rebecca. Too much time had passed, and they had both changed. It made no sense to ponder what could be. Especially when he had promised his mother his utter penitence.

  “You had better warm up quicker. Looks like Alexander has arrived.”

  Leo turned to see his brother, the marquis, striding across the grass toward him. He supposed at least with both of his brothers here, he would be thoroughly distracted from Rebecca.

  With any luck, at least.

  ∞∞∞

  REBECCA COULDN’T DECIDE if her heart jolted when the door opened because she feared she had been discovered.

  Or because it was likely to be Leo.

  He ducked in and shut the door behind him. Rebecca remained on the bed, her fingers twined together. He gave her a flash of a smile that did nothing to untangle the knot that counted for her stomach.

  He filled the room with his presence much like he probably did in even the largest and grandest of ballrooms. Despite herself, her gaze flitted over his relaxed attire—the loosened cravat, the lack of a jacket and the uncuffed sleeves.

  “I’m beginning to feel like the mad aunt, locked away for fear she would do something hideous,” she said. “Of course, you never read books like that so you would likely n
ot know what I’m talking about but there was one particular title...”

  A dark brow rose, and Rebecca clamped her mouth shut. Blathering on about books did nothing to calm her racing pulse nor did it make her look any more sane than this fictional mad aunt.

  His lips twitched. “If you wish me to lock you away properly, that can be arranged.”

  “Certainly not.”

  “At least you smell better than a crazed aunt.”

  “I smelled for all of one day. Will you never let me forget it?”

  “Never,” he vowed.

  She nodded to the tray in his hands. “This certainly does not make me feel like a normal guest. How did you steal away with the food?”

  “I have my ways.”

  “How mysterious.”

  He chuckled. “I have not lost my ability to sneak about this house like we used to.”

  She did not want to think about all the things they used to do. All the stolen kisses in the library or the orangery, all the promises of more once they were older and married.

  He set the food on a mahogany drum table near the empty fireplace and then strode over to shut the curtains before lighting several lamps and candles about the room. She had not been cold, but the sudden warm light sent a shiver through her.

  “I feared your brothers might spot me,” she confessed, nodding to the lone candle on the dressing table that had burned down to a mere dribble.

  “It did occur to me it was a little odd to be secreting away a woman in my brother’s home, whilst he is in residence.” He moved across the room and drew the curtains more tightly. “But you can see little through these.”

  “I’ve scarcely moved since they arrived,” she confessed.

  “I should have warned you. Forgive me.”

  “I could have left...” She gestured vaguely.

  “Why do you think I did not warn you?”

  Rebecca had little idea how to respond to that, so she finally rose from the bed and drew out the delicate chair to seat herself at the table. She picked at the food, her appetite stolen most likely by Leo still being in the room.

  “You do not have to stay,” she murmured between forkfuls of lukewarm but beautifully spiced duck.

  “I told Alexander I was taking a stroll about the parkland.” He lingered by the window, his hands clasped behind his back, despite there being nothing for him to view from such a position.

  She sighed and gestured to the chair opposite. “You had better sit then. It feels mightily odd eating with you towering over me.”

  He lowered himself onto the chair, his frame seeming too big for a piece of furniture that had likely been designed for a woman.

  She forced her attention to the food. Tomorrow she had intended to hunt down a woman with whom her father had been connected, and it would likely involve walking into Grasmere so she would need her strength.

  “How are your brothers?” she finally asked when the silence stretched too long.

  Not that it was uncomfortable, at least not in the traditional manner. It left her feeling oddly achy and desperate for the days when they had been able to talk and touch freely.

  “Well enough, though I cannot say they would confide in me were they not.”

  She frowned, gesturing with her fork. “But you used to be so close, especially to Adam.”

  “We are all busy these days.” He lifted both shoulders. “Alexander is forever hunting out his next adventure, probably determined to kill himself so he does not have to worry about siring an heir, and Adam still enjoys cards.”

  “And you, what do you do?”

  “I thought you knew all about me.” He smirked. “You have read all about me in the gossip columns after all.”

  “Well, yes.” Warmth spread into her face, and she eyed the glossy table top until she could get the heat under control. “But only briefly,” she lied.

  Leo leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. “Then I am sure you know it all.”

  “The horses,” she blurted, motioning so fast with her fork that a few remnants of meat flung off it and splattered against the curtains. She grimaced and gently lowered the fork.

  His lips curved but he said nothing of her disastrous manners.

  “What I was trying to say was there are so many horses. Are they yours?”

  He nodded. “We are so seldom here that Alexander does not mind me using the park land for the horses.”

  “For racing?”

  “No. They are too old. I purchase those who are at the end of their racing or working careers and they live out their retirement here.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Rebecca should not have been surprised really, but she almost wished there was some selfish reason. It would make it all the easier to ignore this pull toward him as though he had lassoed a rope around her and was slowly hauling her in with his every word and action.

  He lifted both brows. “You sound almost disappointed.”

  “Well, it does rather ruin your image as the seductive rake.”

  “And that disappoints you?” His gaze clashed with hers, making her chest feel tight.

  “No, it is just—”

  “You want to know why I bedded all those women over the years?”

  “Leo—”

  “Because of you, Rebecca.” His jaw twitched. “To forget you.” He shoved a hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray. “I needed to get you out from under my skin, but I’ll be damned if I succeeded.”

  She inhaled a sharp breath that seemed to sear her lungs. It all could be a lie, she supposed, but she did not think so. His confession had the loop tightening, drawing her closer still until she could fight him no longer.

  Perhaps, just for now, she did not want to fight him.

  “I never forgot you either,” she confessed.

  The words escaped without thought and she should have regretted them, but when his gaze darkened and she knew precisely what his next move would be, she could not bring herself to.

  She held herself still and waited.

  Chapter Eight

  Leo froze, his throat drying. Maybe it was the confession. Or the way the candlelight caught her hair and brought out the red in it. Perhaps it was the flush in her cheeks. Or maybe it was because it had never faded. They had been young, naive and entirely unaware of how the world worked.

  But it had always been real.

  It still was. Pulsing between them like waves beating the shore—inescapable, powerful, unconquerable.

  And for the first time in a long time, he no longer wanted to conquer it. No longer wanted to deny what he’d been trying to for all these years. There were no stranger’s petticoats to bury his love for her in, no amorous words to hide behind.

  He shoved back the chair and strode toward her, closing the gap. She rose at the same time or perhaps a beat after. All he knew was they met in a clash. When his hands clasped her face, she gasped, and flung her arms about his neck, her mouth already willing when he pressed his lips to hers.

  “I missed you,” he said, voice gravelly.

  “I missed you too,” she murmured between kisses.

  He pressed his lips to hers, again and again, taking small tastes, reacquainting himself with her while heat surged through him. It was the same but different. Her lips seemed softer. Her body certainly was. Her breasts were pressed hard against him, her thighs molding to his body.

  He kissed her more deeply and she moaned, so he moved his mouth down the soft arch of her neck. Her hands worked their way down his arms, digging tight then skimming up and over his shoulders, drawing him as close as humanly possible.

  He needed more.

  Breaking the kiss long enough to take a breath, he peered down at her flushed features, her eyes wide. Her pulse fluttered in the base of her neck, her breasts rose and fell. He waited a beat, just long enough to let her know he could walk away if she so wished.

  It would kill him, but he would do it if she asked it of him.

>   “Kiss me, Leo,” she begged.

  With a groan, he curved his hands around her waist and drew her hard against him. Air rushed from his lungs at the contact, but he didn’t have time to draw a breath. Not when he had so long apart to make up for. Not when he had Rebecca willing and needy in his arms. She wanted his kisses, wanted his touch, and he’d be damned if he could deny her anything.

  The kisses were deeper, more fervent, maybe led by his desperation but he suspected they were equally as wanting. She staggered back a few steps until her back met the wood of the door and she sucked down a breath. He used the resistance behind it to his advantage, allowing him to trail kisses down her neck, across her decolletage and up again while he moved into her, rocking against her. She laced her fingers into his hair.

  “Rebecca.” He let her name linger in her ear briefly before nibbling her lobe and feeling the little shudder caress through her. Many things had changed, but she had not. A mere touch still made her shiver.

  She arched her neck, tilting her head back against the wood. He nipped and kissed down, cupping her full breasts in a hand and working his fingers down, down. He gripped the fabric of her skirt and hauled it high until his fingers met the silk of her stockings then finally the small strip of flesh above them. Rebecca gripped his neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on his jawline, urging him to take her lips again with heated, urgent kisses.

  His breaths felt raw in his throat. The blinding, pounding desire fairly sizzled through his veins. In truth, all of him felt raw, vulnerable, desperate. If he never saw her again, it might well break him, but if he never saw her again and did not give her what she desired, he might regret it for the rest of his days.

  Working his fingers up the soft, soft flesh of her thigh, he met her heat with a groan in the back of his throat. She gasped against his mouth and her kisses grew erratic when he touched her, circling her heat and finding her slick for him.

  He had always been aware of this desire between them—so strong even when they were younger—but it had never been like this. Perhaps it was time or maybe experience, but their sweetly passionate kisses together were nothing like this moment.