Delightfully Dangerous (Knights Without Armor Book 1)

by Marly Mathews

  They’d be back in London soon, and he didn’t want to give her up. He wanted their adventures together to continue. And that was what marriage to her would be like—one constant thrilling adventure. Pain twisted in his gut. He’d never forgive himself for putting himself on the path he walked right now. A wise man would have noticed her longing for him well before he had. A wise man never would have gone off chasing another woman.

  Right at this moment, a kidnapping never looked so tempting. No. He’d have to let her go back to her brother. He could never do that to her. If she continued pretending to be Jamie, he would have plenty of time to court her, and besides, he never lost a bet. James Newson wasn’t the man she thought he was—and he couldn’t wait to prove that to her.

  Now all he had to do was acquire a special license—and wait.

  ydia awoke with a start.

  They were back in London, and would be at Maidstone House shortly. Dread clawed at her. She stole a glance Richard’s way. Could he sense how desperately she wanted this day to continue?

  “Same time, tonight?” he asked roguishly. She’d never thought of him as a rogue before, but right now, he had that devil-may-care look on his face that most of the rakes of the ton wore as everyday expressions.

  “I think I shall be tucked up in my bed tonight,” she yawned rather indelicately. “I am awfully tired from today’s adventure.”

  “But you haven’t given up your need for deception.”

  “I am not deceiving anyone.”

  “You are sneaking out of your brother’s house to go on outings he would not approve of.”

  “How do you know? Do you think you know my brother better than I do?”

  “I have a headstrong sister, and as a brother I would not approve if she’d ever had this foolish idea in her head.”

  “You could never hope to control Julia.”

  “She was rather a pain in the backside when I was responsible for her. Fortunately, that is no longer my concern.”

  “Do you honestly think that Lord Knightwick controls your sister?”

  “It is none of my concern.”

  “Admit it. You know and I know that no one would ever tempt to put strings on Julia.”

  He attempted not to laugh. “I concede that you are correct. If you do…if you do decide to go out like this again, afford me the pleasure of accompanying you.”

  “You didn’t enjoy yourself. Boxing isn’t your cup of tea.”

  “Blood sports are all well and good, but some I can do without,” he sighed. “Let’s not descend into another argument. Promise me, Lydia.”

  “Promise you what? I’ve already made a bargain with the devil.”

  “Your words imply that you think I am the devil.”

  “As you like it.” She jutted her chin out defiantly.

  “No matter, I shall not allow your words to bait me. I will be keeping an eye on your movements from here on in, my darling.”

  “Are you going to stalk me like an animal stalks its prey?”

  “No. I’m going to watch you, and guard you against your own foolish nature.”

  “I am not a silly girl.”

  “You could have fooled me,” he replied, which seemed to anger her even more.

  “I despise you, Lord Tisbury.”

  “You used to love me.”

  “Did I?” she asked wistfully. “I’m not so certain of that anymore. Perhaps, perhaps, I had merely idolized you. It was a trifling infatuation. That is all. I could never be married to be a man as stuffy as you.”

  Her words actually stung him that time. “I am not stuffy.”

  “You are a straitlaced, lazy…”

  He leaned forward. “I warn you, Lydia, do not finish that sentence.”

  “Boring man,” she said defiantly. Her words spurred him on. Swiftly, he pulled her to him, and sat her on his lap.

  “My lord,” she said squirming and fighting to get away. “This is most scandalous and most undignified.”

  “There’s no reason to be so nervous. I’m not about to ravish you. As fetching as you are in those breeches, I think I can resist the temptation. I had thought of possibly giving you a spanking as you are acting like a proper little chit who needs to be punished for her bad behavior.” Her outraged cry made him wince. What the bloody hell was he doing anyway? Before he could predict her actions, she pulled her hand back and punched him.

  Her fierce wallop actually made his head fly back. “That, my dear, will most likely leave a mark.”

  “Release me at once, sir,” she shrieked. If her attire left any doubt that she was not in fact a male, her screaming gave it all away. She had a set of lungs on her that would be the envy of any opera singer. Her eyes, however, belied her mouth. She wanted him to continue holding her, but she was giving in to her own damn morality and telling him to release her. Damn morality straight to hell. It was all fine and good in some circumstances, this was hardly one of those circumstances.

  “Calm down,” he muttered. He’d been told plenty of times in his life that telling a lady to calm down almost always had the opposite effect, he might as well try giving a cat a bath. Today, Lydia was hell bent on proving that theory to be correct.

  Her fists started flying again. He restrained her. Courting her was going to be like courting a bloody shrew. He had his work cut out for him. If he truly were a lazy fellow, he’d never even contemplate taking on such a complicated little chit.

  “You might have the title of lady, but you’re acting like a common little guttersnipe at the moment. I wonder what your father would think of your behavior.”

  His words affected her deeply. Her fists stalled, and fell to her sides. “You don’t get to talk about him, when you’re acting like a brute.”

  “I am treating you like a perfect gentlemen. You have never been exposed to a real brute of a man, Lydia.”

  “Let me go,” she said softly, her tone laced with steel.

  “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. She clambered away from him, and sat staring daggers at him. If looks could kill, he’d be dead already.

  “You begged for my intimate attentions in the past, Lydia. Well, be forewarned. You have them now. You will always have them from this day forward. I was a sleeping man before, but I’m awake now, and there’s one thing I know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want you.”

  She shivered at his words. “Well,” she snorted, “you can’t have me.”

  “Don’t ever say that to a Lovett. We are not accustomed to being denied.”

  She looked away from him. The carriage rolled to a stop outside of Maidstone House.

  “Good day to you, sir,” she said, not giving him a chance to draw her back into a friendly duel of civil whiskers. Flinging the carriage door open, she hopped out of the carriage and dashed away.

  “You will be mine, Lydia Radcliff. You may depend upon it.” She was too far away to hear him, but she paused briefly to glance back his way. She did still care. Heartened by her response, he left the coach, and walked the rest of the way home, whistling a jaunty tune as he walked. Some cast looks his way that clearly conveyed they thought he was mad.

  And maybe he was—he was crazy in love.

  y beloved sister is going to marry that fop of a man, James Newson, if you don’t do something about it,” Micah Radcliff, 1st Marquess of Everley stated, slamming his hands down on Richard’s desk. “He is penny wise and pound foolish, and shan’t make a good enough husband for her. All that waits for her in a match like that is heartache, and I won’t condemn her to that miserable fate.”

  It had been three days since his adventure with Lydia. In that time, she had minded her manners around him as Lady Lydia, and he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jamie, though as he’d promised, he’d kept a keen eye on her comings and goings, taking it upon himself to drop by Maidstone House every evening. Micah was probably sick of seeing him, so his appearance this afternoon quite unnerved Richard. The
re’d been plenty of times where he’d been tempted to question Micah about Lydia’s actions, and each time he’d decided to broach the subject something had happened to keep him from it. Still, the fact that Micah had his blood boiling over Newson meant that Lydia had done something to incur that wrath. He could only pray it wasn’t something too scandalous in nature.

  Richard calmly regarded his old friend at length. Acting as if Micah hadn’t unnerved him, he looked back at his paperwork, putting his pen carefully back into the inkwell stand.

  “Good afternoon, Micah,” Richard said, squeezing the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache looming. “I wasn’t aware that Mr. Newson was a fop of a man. I always thought he was no more of a dandy than any other gentleman in the ton. Of course, he is a bit of a rattle pate.”

  “Stop attempting to be so bloody contrary,” Micah growled, leaning in so he was terribly close to Richard. Richard didn’t like feeling as if he were the one at the disadvantage. Still, he remained quiet and composed. No matter how much Micah rattled him, he would not show it. He deliberately placed aside the document he had been reading, and stood up so as to put some distance between them. Rather than stay leaning over Richard’s desk, Micah sighed and sprawled into the first available chair. Pulling furiously down on his waistcoat, Richard shrugged his shoulders in the most nonchalant manner he could portray, despite the fact that his heart was thundering like a pony at the races. “Your dear beloved sister has a mind of her own. Her corky spirit cannot be equaled. Some might even call her the hoyden of Wiltshire. She is a spitfire, and her wild ways exceed those of my sister or my cousins. To be sure, she is the most enterprising not to mention reckless creature I have ever had the fortune of meeting.”

  “Careful,” Micah warned, bristling.

  “Ah, don’t take offense, old chap. I like to be a bit reckless every now and then, it’s never done anyone a bit of harm,” Richard jested, before sobering. “Your sister is a true merry Moonraker.” The admiration was thick in his voice, but clearly Micah failed to recognize it.

  “So my sister is a fool?” he said, his tone short.

  “No.” He nervously pulled at his cravat, and cleared his throat, “I meant to say that she is in good possession of an independent mind, and a fairly cunning one at that. You know it, and I know it. Her spirit cannot be quelled, much as you might try. She shall marry the man of her choosing. No force known to man could possibly sway her otherwise, and heaven help the idiot who attempts it.”

  Micah sighed heavily. “You were the gentleman she wanted. Your buffoonery turned her away. You broke her heart, Richard. It was badly done, sir. Badly done,” he chastised, his crossness apparent. Richard bristled a bit beneath the not so gently delivered scolding. He would not be reproached in such a manner, but he did not want to quarrel with his old friend. Maneuvering around this was going to be challenging, but not impossible, and whatever he did, he could not lose his temper with Micah. They didn’t need to come to blows over this. He could admit when he was wrong, and he had been wrong in how he had handled Lydia’s feelings for him. It was time to repair any sort of rift that might grow between them over it.

  “I did not mean to be, as you say, a buffoon. I merely, that is to say, I didn’t realize her affection for me, until it was too late. I never thought it would vex you so,” Richard said nervously, finding himself pulling at his cravat. Dash it all, he was terribly nervous, fretting that he would eventually lose the quiet and unassuming façade he so carefully maintained since the end of the Wars, and show the man he had become during that time of conflict. In a way, he didn’t want to let that part of himself out, many feared it, and sometimes, he had to confess, so did he. He shouldn’t be this profoundly apprehensive around Micah, after all, they’d grown up together, and Micah was married to his cousin, and yet…he now felt infernally uncomfortable around the man.

  “Despite your poor behavior toward my sister, there is still time to mend things, precious little—but you still have a chance. I can see that in the way she sulks about. I still have hope for you both. Feel fortunate that you still have a chance to redeem yourself. Do not fail me, Richard. I do not want Mr. James Newson as a new member of my family. I don’t mind the man, but he isn’t the man for my dear sweet Lydia, and I shan’t have her married to a fellow she doesn’t love with all her heart.”

  “What do you suggest I do?” Richard said evenly, attempting to portray an indifferent air about the whole matter, when in truth, he felt anything but. He knew exactly what he ought to do, and had already made some preparations for it, but he wished to hear it straight from his old friend’s mouth. As her brother, Micah would act as Lydia’s father would have done. Would he have deemed Richard worthy for his little girl? James Radcliff had absolutely doted on Lydia, she had been the apple of his eye. None could disparage her in his presence. She was his angel, and Richard really did wonder how he would view their impending match. For a time, he had lived two lives, and now…now, he only wanted to be Lord Tisbury. The spy in him needed to be contained. To release him would be courting trouble—and Lydia was quite enough trouble to court.

  He cared not for the life he had whilst in the war. He had put it far behind him. That didn’t make up for some of his actions. He knew that her father had known about some of his wilder moments in London. How a vicar could be privy to such knowledge was beyond him, but Richard supposed that like all men of good social standing, James Radcliff had had his sources. Did Micah know? He doubted it. If he knew, he probably would have had the same qualm of conscience about him as his father had possessed. He thought back to one of Lydia’s first dances at Castleton Court. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen. She had looked lovely that night, and hadn’t wanted for dance partners. He’d watched her glide effortlessly though each set, and had even been tempted to ask her for a dance.

  James Radcliff must have noticed that Lydia had captured his eye, for he had come over to him, and started talking to him. He’d looked pointedly at Richard and said, “The man who wins her heart is a lucky man indeed. I only pray that he shall love her as much as she loves him, and that he shall honor her for the rest of his days.” With those words, her father had looked back at Lydia, giving Richard the uneasy feeling that he was addressing Richard with regard to Lydia. Had her father known even then? It was no secret that Lydia had always fancied him. Some had even said she’d made a fool of herself fawning over him the way she’d done in the past. Had etiquette allowed, he felt certain that Lydia would have asked him for a dance that night, she’d shyly met his eyes so many times. He shouldn’t have been such a fool. He should have asked her to dance that night, and many other nights after.

  Egad. He’d almost ruined it all. He had nearly destroyed his only hope of ever finding a love that would give him a lifetime of happiness.

  “I suggest you insert yourself into her life rather like you did three nights past.”

  Richard continued to calmly regard him. “You know about that, then?”

  “I’d have to be a bloody idiot not to. Lydia only thinks she can come and go from my residence. She’s not exactly as sly as she thinks.”

  “So you know about Jamie?”

  “Aye,” Micah grumbled. “I know all about Jamie, and her fondness for boxing. I was starting to think that I’d have to invite you over every single night in order to match the two of you up. You don’t know how relieved Rose and I were when you decided to go and brood over some brandy in the gardens. She’s made quite the name for herself amongst the Fancy. That might bring us a spot of trouble, but I expect you to deal with that when the time comes.”

  “How could you allow it?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Micah asked.

  “How could you allow her to…to make such a bloody fool of herself?”

  “I don’t think she’s making a fool of herself. She’s managed to fool most of the men at the matches.”

  “Not all of them,” he countered.

  “Oh, aye? Who outed her th
en?”

  “No one revealed her publicly, but Lord Lumley has more than a sneaky suspicion.”

  “Is all lost?” Micah asked, suddenly worried for his sister’s reputation.

  “No. Lydia’s reputation is quite safe. Mine, on the other hand, might not be. I’m sure that a bit of gossip concerning me and…my lover might start to spread through the ton.”

  “And that lover…”

  “Would be your sister.”

  “But the two of you…”

  “I assure you, Micah nothing happened between us, but Lord Lumley thinks…”

  He put his hand up. “I understand. You need not continue to elaborate. The old man recognized her as a lady in men’s clothing, and deduced that she was there with you as your lover, and that her disguise served to protect her against her husband learning of your affair.”

  “That about sums it up. There’s also the fact that Alex Mandeville knows that she is a lady in disguise.”

  “Alex Mandeville?” Micah said, sitting up straighter in his chair. “Isn’t he the younger son of Lord Ravensbourne?”

  “Is he?” Richard asked, deliberately feigning ignorance.

  “He is. He’s a few years younger than us. Their family’s seat is in Derbyshire, if I’m not mistaken. He usually stays away from the soirées of the Season, though I did see him at a ball just last week. I did wonder why Lydia made herself scarce and hid with the widows and spinsters. He seems a likable enough chap. I think his mother was born in Wiltshire, so that makes him part Moonraker,” Micah laughed. “It takes one fool to know another, I suppose. Does he know who she is?”

  “He’s intelligent enough to realize that she’s not just an effeminate dandy. As for whether or not he has deduced that she is part of your family, I cannot confirm or deny.”

  Micah sighed, jumped up and started pacing. “She’s a bloody handful. I cannot wait until she is safely married off—but—” He stopped suddenly, “I will not see her marry that annoying little bugger.”