Anything but Innocent

by Dayna Quince

  Lord Winchester was different from any man she’d met before. Where others pretended to be dangerous rakes, he actually was. His aura was one of power and wariness. He’d seen things, done things. He understood his place in the world and made the world bend to his will. She wanted to move closer to him, study him, but he was so far removed from her that he may as well be a wild animal. She would have to bide her time, approach slowly and carefully. She would need to earn his interest and his trust.

  Chapter 3

  Lucy dressed for dinner very carefully. She wanted to appear alluring without the impression of trying. She wore a simple white gown—virginal, but sumptuous in the way its sweetheart neckline cupped her breasts and its gauzy outer layer shifted over the tighter shift-like dress just the tiniest bit suggestive. She left her hair partially down and used a bit of lip color to make her lips a bit rosier and plump. She draped one curl over her shoulder where it would lay right between her breasts and draw the eye.

  She hoped she wasn’t being obvious, but no matter what she did, she felt obvious. She felt like a fool.

  She made her way to the drawing room, entering as her family talked animatedly about a local fair their village had every year. She stayed quiet, making herself small as she sat in the corner of the settee and picked up a book she had left on the side table just the other day. It felt like ages had passed since she put that book down, a lifetime. She felt like an entirely different person from the girl who had absentmindedly set the book down, a frivolous romance novel and forgotten its existence until now.

  Now she paged through it, the words a blur as she could think of only one thing—one person to be precise. She was so intently focused on him she could feel his presence in the room. He adjusted his stance, refilled his glass, slapped her brother on the back and laughed heartily. Lucy had to look then. Her gaze snapped to him. His head was thrown back, mouth grinning and open as he laughed so openly and honestly. She sucked in a breath and yanked her eyes away.

  “Lucy! Goodness. I didn’t see you come in.” Her mother turned to her.

  Lucy schooled her features and set the book aside calmly. “You were all enjoying yourselves immensely. I didn’t want to interrupt.” She sounded melancholy to her own ears. That wouldn’t do at all. She gave her mother a shining smile. “I missed the joke entirely, but it must have been stunning.”

  “Your brother is telling us of his time at Eton with Lord Winchester,” Thea responded.

  “Wildly exaggerated stories, I’m sure.” Lucy rolled her eyes.

  “If you could attend university, little sister, your own exploits would put mine to shame.”

  “No doubt.”

  “Thank heavens she can’t,” her father quipped.

  Lucy glared at him.

  “Lucy can behave when she wishes,” her mother defended her.

  “No great story ever began with good behavior.” Lucy patted her mother’s hand.

  Her mother harrumphed in her usual disapproving way. “You are incorrigible.”

  “Thank you!” Lucy laughed along with her brother and father. She was happy to see everyone in good spirits. She felt a peculiar warmth glide over her skin, like when sitting too close to a candle. Could it be the touch of someone’s gaze? She courageously peeked at her prey, masking it with a playful glance at Thea, who was nearest to where he stood.

  Dean pulled his eyes away from Lady Lucy’s décolleté. He looked down at his drink, which he’d only just poured. No rescue on that front. He sighed quietly and focused on her family again. He needed to put her to bed—it. IT. He needed to put it—as in her growing infatuation, to bed. Her entire costume tonight, from the softly curling hair around her shoulders to the deceptively innocent cut of her dress were meant to entrap him. He was sure of it. He’d seen it all before. There wasn’t any sort of trick or subterfuge he hadn’t already experienced at the hands of a woman. This girl—or woman, he should think, was a novice at best, but that would make her all the more dangerous. She could ruin herself and put him in a very difficult position.

  He needed to get her alone and deliver a quick and merciful death to her tender feelings. If she were all that Rigsby had said she was, then that should be all that was needed. The butler entered, and mercifully, they moved as one to dinner. Dean moved slowly, deliberately catching her eye, and waiting until the others passed through the doorway. She waited too, hands fluttering at her sides, eyes glancing nervously toward the door. He strode confidently toward her.

  “Lady Lucy, I only need but a moment of your time.”

  “Yes, Lord Winchester?”

  He moved closer to her, closer than appropriate, close enough to see her quick inhale and her eyes dilate. Close enough to smell the sweet scent of her perfume—some fruity blossom mixed with her skin. He let a familiar heat enter his voice.

  “Whatever it is you think you feel, or may want… it will never be.”

  A little crease formed on her brow.

  “We are from different worlds. You would do well to think of me as an ugly uncle far beyond your years.”

  “Different worlds?” She raised one brow. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean, Lord Winchester. Are you feeling well?”

  Dean smiled as he looked down at his glass and swirled it gently. “Do you think I don’t know? I know exactly what I do to women, the effect I have on them. I don’t want to lead you on, or cause strife between your brother and me so I will draw the line now.”

  She gave him a look of utter puzzlement and then smiled beguilingly. Dean frowned. “What?”

  “You know exactly what you do to women?” Lucy snickered and patted his arm. “Far be it for me to ruin your self-esteem.” She moved through the door.

  “I beg your pardon?” Dean followed her. His entire plan was unraveling. Was he wrong? No. His instincts in matters like this were always spot on. The hall was empty. He snatched her hand and stopped her before she could escape down the stairs.

  “Just a moment, Lady Lucy. Whether or not you can admit you are attracted to me is not the point. What you need to know is that men like me are unsuitable for girls—women like you. Don’t waste a moment thinking I could be anything more than an acquaintance of your brother.” Now he had her attention. She looked startled, her eyes drifted down to their hands. He immediately let go. Her eyes slid back to his.

  “Is that all?”

  He nodded.

  She turned away from him without another word. Dean let her advance further down the stairs before following. She did not look back at him. He wandered into the dining room a moment after her and claimed his seat. She didn’t seem to be affected by his little speech. He wasn’t certain that was a good thing or a bad thing. Perhaps she was not as naïve as he thought. Either way, he’d done all he could do other than leaving altogether. Truth be told, he didn’t want to leave. This place seemed happy. He needed a little bit of happy.

  When Lucy retired that evening, she was unusually tired. The entire evening felt like an awful play that would not end. She played her part admirably well, but it wore her down. Only Thea could tell she wasn't herself. Lucy had waved off her curious glances and avoided her questions. Now she was alone, and she could reflect on what that oaf had said. He was warning her away. Could anything be more humiliating? Probably. At least he did it privately. Presumably, he wasn’t confiding to her brother. Be that as it may, she was not dissuaded in the least. Unsuitable. Bah! Could someone explain why handsome rakes always thought themselves too dangerous for gently bred young ladies? Too worldly and overwhelming?

  Well, this gently bred young lady is too dangerous for the typical gentleman. Lord Winchester just needed more time to see that. Time she could give him. She had a whole season to devote to that very thing. There was no point in remaining shy now. He knew she was attracted to him. There was no point in hiding it except from her brother and parents.

  She climbed into bed after undressing and washing her face. She blew out her candle and stared at
her canopy. She blinked rapidly as the strain of the evening made her eyelids feel heavy and scratchy.

  “Lord, grant me patience,” she prayed and let her eyes drift close. She would need patience and strength to not scare Lord Winchester away.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning it was decided they would go target shooting before heading to the races in the afternoon. This came from Thea, who had breakfasted with the gentleman while Lucy had slept in. She vaguely remembered a maid coming to wake her and then Thea tapping on her door. She rose refreshed and broke her fast in her room while Thea sat patiently.

  “Are you feeling well?”

  “Yes.” Lucy yawned. “I was dreadfully tired last evening.”

  “I could tell,” Thea agreed.

  “My body needed more rest. That is all.” After finishing her eggs, Thea returned downstairs while Lucy washed and dressed. She met them in the morning room and greeted everyone cheerily.

  “Good morning, everyone,” she said with a sunny smile. She was feeling very optimistic about the day. Her eyes settled on Lord Winchester. He was holding a cup of coffee and it paused on the way to his lips as she caught his gaze. She raised both brows ever so slightly and turned away from him and toward her brother, who was reading the paper.

  “Ready for shooting?”

  “Father will be joining us,” he said from behind the paper.

  “Why?”

  “Because Mr. Farris will also be joining us, and he doesn’t want you to shoot him.”

  Lucy scoffed. “I’ve no reason to shoot him unless he tries to trap me into marriage. It goes both ways, you know.”

  “I simply can’t see why all these men want to marry you,” Jonathan grumbled.

  “I’m lovely, that’s why,” Lucy grumbled back. She turned away from her brother in annoyance. “Thea, would you care for a morning walk? I feel the need to move.”

  Thea nodded. “I’m looking forward to this morning. Lord Winchester promised to teach me to shoot.”

  “Nonsense. I can teach you to shoot. I’m a better shot than Jonathan, anyhow.”

  Thea hurried to catch up with Lucy as she bolted down the terrace steps.

  “Must we run?” Thea scolded.

  “My apologies.” Lucy slowed. “Isn’t it a wonderful morning?”

  “Are you positive you feel well?”

  Lucy clenched her teeth. “Why do you keep asking me that?” She paused on the gravel walk of the rose garden and faced Thea.

  “Your behavior is odd. It has been since dinner last night.”

  “Well…” Lucy looked back toward the open French doors of the morning room. “You may have noticed Lord Winchester and I were delayed before joining you in the dining room?” she said quietly.

  Thea gasped. “Did he kiss you?”

  “If only. He tried to warn me away.”

  “From who?”

  “From himself!” They turned in unison and began to stroll. “He informed me that even if I couldn’t admit I was attracted to him, he is unsuitable for a woman like me.”

  “Oh,” Thea said despondently. “What will you do now?”

  “Well, I’m certainly not going to give up. I will show him how well suited we are. He is a peer, for goodness sake. How could he possibly be unsuitable?”

  “Perhaps he has some deep dark secret?” Thea whispered.

  “Wouldn’t that be exciting? Like a lurid novel. Real life is never as interesting. He’s simply acting the fool as all men do.”

  “How can you be so certain? What if he simply isn’t or doesn’t want to marry you?”

  “I’m certain. If it wasn’t meant to be, then I don’t think I would feel like this. Do you? My heart—my gut is telling me so. He can be obtuse for now, but in time, he will see.”

  Thea sighed heavily. Her sigh echoed the uncertainty Lucy felt but could not admit. There must be something to all these uncomfortable emotions. No man had ever affected her in such away. She was not one to succumb to a handsome face or well-cut coat. Her judgment wasn’t always what her parents wished it to be, but this was different. This was fate. He was right for her, and she for him. The difficulty was in proving it somehow.

  He wasn’t immune to her. He did look at her. She could recall it. She could still feel the caress of his eyes like a physical touch.

  She shook herself mentally. She must remain focused. No daydreaming, no fantasizing.

  She and Thea finished their walk around the garden, returning to the morning room just as her father had with Mr. Farris in tow. Targets were being set up on the east lawn. Lucy greeted Mr. Farris cordially but remained aloof. They set out as a party and caravanned to the east lawn. Lucy graciously took the pistol her father handed her. It was her own, a gift from her father when she was sixteen. She stood by as Jonathan and Lord Winchester argued about distance and placed bets with each other.

  “Thea? Would you like me to show you? You may use my pistol,” Lucy offered. Thea had been watching the entire set up nervously.

  “Oh, I’m not sure I should try. Perhaps I will just watch.”

  “Nonsense. Shooting is a skill. You may need to defend yourself one day.”

  “From who?” Thea laughed.

  “Most likely a man, but perhaps a rabid dog or—”

  “Lucy,” her father warned.

  He used the tone that suggested she close her mouth immediately. She did. She looked up to see Jonathan smirking and Lord Winchester watching but with inscrutable eyes.

  “We will all educate Miss Manton with our collective knowledge,” her father continued. “First, let’s begin with how to safely handle a pistol.”

  Lucy stood to the side while her father bent near Thea and showed her the workings of the pistol. She could hear Jonathan, Mr. Farris, and Lord Winchester murmuring to each other. She looked their way and they stopped. She narrowed her eyes at Jonathan. He looked way from her and coughed.

  “Are you ill?” She strode over to them and looked between them dubiously. “Or has a cat caught your slippery tongue.”

  “I’m feeling very well, thank you,” Jonathan replied.

  “Very well, then. Would you care to enlighten me regarding what was so fervently being discussed between the three of you?”

  “What business is it of yours?” Lord Winchester said.

  Lucy looked at him. She was surprised to feel a bit of annoyance. Good. It would keep her from looking like a lovesick twit as she met his eyes.

  “Discussions about me are my business.”

  “How do you know we were discussing you?”

  “I’m very observant.”

  “It so happens I was warning Mr. Farris. I told him he better not propose or you might shoot him. He heard about the events with the fountain.”

  Lucy tried not to react to the rush of embarrassment. She took a steady breath and turned to Mr. Farris. He really wasn’t a bad looking fellow. His brown hair ruffled rakishly in the breeze and his eyes held a cheery youthfulness.

  “That is sound advice.” She nodded to him. He swallowed loudly. Lucy turned away and returned to her father as he began to show Thea how to aim the gun. She had that anxious feeling of being watched, a prickly feeling right between her shoulder blades. She looked over her shoulder. Two pairs of eyes watched her. Her brother was happily priming his pistol. It was Lord Winchester who watched her with an amused smirk and Mr. Farris who carried a rather dreamy look.

  Drat. So much for remaining aloof. If the threat of being shot wasn’t enough, she would have to scare him off another way.

  Dean shook his head as he turned back to the table where Jonathan was admiring his prize pistols. He caught sight of Mr. Farris still staring longingly after Lady Lucy. He pitied the man. He knew what he saw in Lady Lucy. Charming, beautiful, just a hint of eccentricity to be interesting instead of dreadfully boring like most well-bred chits.

  She would eat poor Mr. Farris alive. Dean smirked as he clapped the man on the back and turned him away from
certain demise. Dean inspected his gun and soon, they were ready to shoot.

  “Ladies first.” Jonathan gestured to Lucy.

  Dean noticed she always looked at her brother as if she couldn’t tell if he were insulting her or not.

  “I think Thea should try first,” she suggested.

  “Oh no. Please lead by example.”

  Lady Lucy raised a single brow. “Are you sure?”

  Miss Manton nodded.

  “Very well. Jonathan, watch closely.”

  Jonathan snorted. Dean liked the familiar way they took digs at each other. He could even say it was done with affection. He watched Lady Lucy pick up her pistol and take aim at the target. She looked at ease, her shoulders relaxed and her stance casual. Her simple walking dress accentuated the dip of her waist and flare of her hips with the wide vertical blue stripes. He tore his eyes away. He shouldn’t even notice such things.

  He focused on the target, the rapport of the pistol following shortly after. Somehow he was unsurprised by the resulting hole in the bullseye. He applauded her with the others.

  Lord Heath beamed proudly.

  “Very good, my dear.”

  Lady Lucy set her pistol on the table and pulled Miss Manton to the designated line.

  “Now you, Thea. I know you will be wonderful. It’s in your blood.”

  Miss Manton looked nervous. She picked up a pistol and took aim. Lady Lucy used little touches to adjust her hold and stance before stepping back.

  “Exhale as you pull the trigger, and don’t close your eyes,” Lord Heath said encouragingly.

  Miss Manton did as instructed, the rapport snapping in the air along with her gasp of surprise.