He should be insulted but all he could do was chuckle. She was not wrong, though he rather hoped Lucy liked him for rather more than his supposed brawn.
∞∞∞
“WE SHOULD GO out on the lake,” Mary-Anne demanded.
Lucinda glanced up from her book. Her sister had her knuckles braced upon the windowsill and her nose pressed against the glass. For some reason, Mary-Anne had not ceased pacing today and she should not have been surprised she demanded another adventure. Mary-Anne practically vibrated with unspent energy.
“Mama won’t like it.” Lucinda lifted the book and feigned reading.
Truth be told, she could scarcely make out the words, not after another formal letter from Alex, requesting to see her. Having Mary-Anne resume her patrolling of the short length of the parlor room did not help either.
“Mama will not know.” Mary-Anne came to stand in front of her and in the periphery of her vision, Lucinda saw her put her fists to her hips. “She will be lunching with Mrs. Beaton forever. You know how they like to talk.”
Lucinda nodded and gave a grim smile. “Between them, they shall be convinced the world is going to ruin.”
“I am not looking forward to tonight.”
“She will certainly be in one of her more worrisome moods, to be sure.”
“So let us get some fresh air before she returns to tell us of all the dangers of the world,” Mary-Anne begged.
“I really do not think—”
“I’ll go myself if I have to.”
With a sigh, Lucinda set the book on the arm of the chair and rose. “Very well.”
She might have given in too easily but what harm could come from a little row on the lake? She allowed herself a wry smile. With her sister, anything could happen, but it would be a welcome distraction from the conundrum that was Alex. Why was he writing so formally? Why did he not come and see her again? And why did she wish him to visit when she was most decidedly avoiding him?
Most importantly, why oh why did it make her heart hurt to be apart from him?
Lucinda aided her sister with the buttons of her pelisse and then did her own. Mary-Anne yanked open the front door before Lucinda could finish doing up her bonnet.
Her sister’s excitable behavior was no rare thing but today she seemed extraordinarily skittish and a little odd, as though she were keeping some secret. She only hoped Mary-Anne did not persuade her to row all the way to some other mystical spot that Mrs. Gleeson had spoken of. As far as she was concerned, they would just take a little jaunt out onto the lake and come back again.
“Oh.”
She stilled on the doorstep and glanced to her sister, her fingers tangled in the ribbon of her straw bonnet. She followed her sister’s gaze. “Oh.”
Striding toward her in the most authoritative of manners, Bernie Sandwell had his gaze fixed upon her. He stopped a pace or so away and dipped his head. “Thank goodness I have found you.”
“Whatever are you doing here, Bernie?” she blurted out.
“I have been looking for you all morning.” He glanced around, irritation forming tense lines around his mouth. “No one could keep their story straight as to where you were staying.”
“Is something the matter?”
He looked her over perfunctorily. “You look hale.”
“I am well, thank you.”
He looked well too. For Bernie anyway. He had the pale complexion of an academic which matched eyebrows that were slowly graying and matching ashy hair. He could have been considered handsome if it were not for his weak chin, she always reckoned.
Compared to Alex, he was practically hideous. A shard of guilt speared through her. What an awful thing to think.
“I’m well too,” put in Mary-Anne.
He scarcely acknowledged her sister with even so much as a look. “You have not written to me in weeks, Lucinda.”
“We’ve been rather busy...”
“Too busy to put quill to paper?” he demanded. “Lucinda, I was mightily worried about you.”
“I do not know why.” She gestured inside. “Will you come in for tea? Mrs. Barker can put some on for us.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“But we were to go rowing,” Mary-Anne protested. “We need to go now, Lucinda. Please.”
“We can row tomorrow,” she assured her.
Mary-Anne gave a pained expression. “No. We need to go now.”
“Rowing is hardly the most feminine of pursuits,” Bernie said. “You would be wise to listen to your sister, Mary-Anne.”
Her sister gave a huff. “Fine, then I shall go for a walk.”
“Mary-Anne,” Lucinda called after her, but Bernie put a hand to her arm.
“Leave her be. She must learn she cannot always get her own way.”
Lucinda bit back a sharp response, rankled by his manner toward her sister. Mary-Anne was not the easiest person to manage but Bernie did not need to treat her like a child. “You came all this way because I did not write for a while?”
“Well, I have business in Yorkshire,” he explained.
“Ah.”
That made more sense. Bernie was fulfilling his lawyerly duties rather than desperately worrying for her welfare. After so many years of writing to one another, she would have been surprised indeed if he had made a journey specially to see her.
“Though, I was worried.” He followed her into the house and divested himself of his outerwear, moving as though he owned the house. He gestured around. “It is a little small. I do wonder why your mother brought you here. I hear tell of several scandalous men in your midst. It is the talk of London.”
She ignored the pang the mention of Alex and his brothers created and led Bernie through to the parlor.
“I would not know much about that,” Lucinda said stiffly. “We have met the Marquis of Kirbeck, and his brothers, and they seem quite pleasant.”
“So you do know to whom I refer.” His lips tightened as he sat. “I do hope you have not been reckless, Lucinda.”
“Reckless? How on earth could I have been reckless?”
“Your sister is quite a bad influence.”
“My sister is ten years my junior. I hardly think she can be a bad influence on me.” She dropped onto the sofa but kept her back rigid.
“You are a good girl, Lucinda. I should so hate to see that change.”
Yes. Good. And boring. And scarcely living her life. Seeing Bernie brought it into even more stark relief. This was how she had been spending her days, writing to a man who scarcely tolerated her sister and never had anything interesting to say.
Unlike Alex.
“Anyway, I am glad to see you looking so well. You look quite…well.”
“I am well.”
“Yes. I can see that.” He clapped his hands to his thighs. “Shall we have some tea? I have the most marvelous rock to show you.”
Inwardly, Lucinda groaned.
Chapter Twelve
Alex had certainly done some strange things in his life but hiding in the trees, readying himself to jump into a row boat and effectively kidnap Lucy had to be near the top of the list of odd moments in his life. When he’d agreed to come to Cumbria, he certainly had not envisaged this as one of the ways he would pass the time.
He only hoped Lucy came this time. He tightened his grip on the nearby tree and listened for the sound of their arrival at the jetty. The thought of this rival—some Bernard Sandwell chap, whoever the heck he was—stealing her away from him made his blood heat.
Mary-Anne seemed to think the man was no challenge, but Lucy had chosen to spend time with him rather than row a boat with her sister. Surely that meant she had some sort of feelings for him?
Well, Alex was going to find out for certain today. Did she care for that rigid-looking chap with all the personality of a wet fish or did she like him?
Or maybe even love him?
Because, damn it, he was not above a little spying, and when he had seen Lucy with this B
ernard fellow, he’d wanted to stride over, kiss her firmly and claim her as his. The woman looked entirely bored and uncomfortable around him.
However, the old Alex might have been willing to do such a thing, but the new Alex would not. For Lucy, he would be as good and as sweet and as gentlemanly as possible. He would not risk scandal. Which was why they would row out, away from prying eyes, and he would tell her of his desire to court her in person, and with any luck she would say yes.
He didn’t want to think about what he would do if she did not. Likely sink into a mire of frustration as deep as the one his brother Leo seemed tangled in over his old love. For the first time ever, he could truly sympathize with his brother over having his heart broken.
He’d never felt such a thing before—this strange, twisting feeling that had him on the edge of a mountain, ready to tumble off and shatter at the bottom, if Lucy did not want him. It was oddly exhilarating but also horribly terrifying. If it were not for the fact the reward would be thoroughly worth it, he would be riding back to London and telling his mother their deal was off and she could cry as much as she liked about it.
He stilled at the crunch of footsteps. His lips curved at the sound of Mary-Anne talking far too loudly for his benefit.
“I want to go from here,” she demanded, “because the views of the lakes are much better.”
“I do not see why we could not use one of the boats at the lakefront.” Lucy came into view through the trees and his heart gave a jolt. “I did not even know there were boats here.”
“At least we can get away from boring Bernie.”
“He is not boring,” Lucy replied, and Alex ground his teeth together.
“He is the dullest man on Earth, and you think simply because he is somewhat respectable, he will make you a good husband.”
“Like hell,” Alex muttered.
Lucy froze. “Did you hear something?”
Alex ducked down a little farther for a few moments, lifting his head up to spy Lucy and her sister climbing into the boat. He waited until Lucy was seated with the oars in hand as agreed with Mary-Anne then he sprinted over quickly, dashing down the jetty before Lucy noticed him. Mary-Anne gave a triumphant grin and leaped up, making the boat rock.
“Mary-Anne!” Lucy exclaimed.
“I forgot something,” she said and stepped swiftly out of the boat, allowing Alex to swap places with her.
Mouth ajar, Lucy stared at him. “What are you doing?”
He used her shock to his advantage and snatched the oars from her then Mary-Anne shoved the boast away from the jetty. With a few powerful movements of the oars, he had them away from the edge of the lake, giving Lucy no chance to escape.
“Alex, take me back,” she insisted.
“Not a chance.”
“This is—”
“Scandalous?” He shook his head. “I have made sure no one can see us.”
She folded her arms. “It would be less so if people could see us.”
“Very well.” He put all his effort into rowing them farther toward the town center where the majority of boats and people were.
“That is not what I meant,” she protested.
“You did not reply to my letters.”
Her gaze met his. “What could I say?”
“Yes, mostly.”
“Yes?”
“To me courting you?”
She shook her head, sending red curls bobbing about her face. The bright sunshine brought out little golden touches in her hair and lashes. Her fichu was as high and tight as ever, her posture stiff and formal. But, by God, did he want to kiss her.
“You do not want to court me.”
The response gave him hope. “But you do not not want me to court you?”
A crease marred her brow. “Pardon?”
“I want to court you,” he said firmly. “And you did not say you do not want me to court you.”
“Well, that is...that is not what I said.”
“No, but it is what you did not say.”
She let out an aggravated sound. “You are speaking in riddles!”
He gave a tilted grin. “You have that sort of effect on me, Lucy.”
She shook her head again. “Alex, I know all about you. About the lady you left behind in London. I do not for one minute believe you truly want to court a woman like me.” She lifted her shoulders. “In fact, I do not think you wish to court anyone.”
∞∞∞
LUCINDA SHOULD NOT like the slightly smug look on his face. Especially when they were in full view of everyone. She could not make individuals out at present but the closer they came to the cluster of buildings and boats, the more apprehensive she became.
She had a horrible suspicion her mother and Bernie were there and would see her in the boat with this most scandalous of rakes. Bernie had opted for a stroll with her mother and Lucinda had been grateful for a break from Bernie when Mary-Anne demanded they take their chance to finally row on the lake. Mama adored Bernie. He was respectable with no sordid history.
Unlike Alex.
“You are wrong, Lucy.”
She turned her attention to Alex and regretted it in a way. Rowing capably and powerfully, he might never have looked more handsome. Especially considering he wanted to court her. Or so he said. She could not let herself believe it.
“You know what you are, Alex, and you are not the sort of man to court a woman. Please do not toy with me.”
His expression grew serious as her voice cracked a little. “I play no games. I am deadly serious. I wish to court you.” He stopped rowing and shifted closer to her. “I did not leave that woman in the family way. I do not even know her, I swear it, and whilst you are not wrong about me, do you not think it possible that a man may wish to change?”
She shook her head. She had already risked scandal once and by some miracle Mrs. Jones had not spread word of her poor behavior. Now she had Bernie here with her and if Mary-Anne was correct, he had been speaking of proposing. She would have all the respectability she needed once she was married to him with no more fears of what her behavior might do to her family.
“I know you have been hurt previously.”
She narrowed her gaze. “What do you mean?”
“Mary-Anne told me of your near ruination.”
She sucked in a sharp gasp, feeling it stab at her lungs. “Mary-Anne was not even meant to know.”
“She’s a clever girl, of course she knows.”
“Well, she certainly should not have told you!”
“I am not sad she did. Now I understand why you have been avoiding me.”
“I have been avoiding you because you are not serious about courting me. Because you are a flirt, a rake and far too different from me. We would not work well together.”
His smile tilted. “You are most certainly wrong there, Lucy.” He leaned closer. “You want adventure, I know you do. And this,” he gestured up and down her, “is not who you are. Not one jot.”
“You cannot presume to know me.”
“I held you when we thought we might die and confessed all my past to you. I cannot think of a scenario that could bring two people closer together.” He took one of her hands and she allowed it, unable to resist. “And you were going to do the same.” His gaze locked onto hers. “Tell me, have you told that dull Bernard of your past?”
Lucinda opened her mouth and then closed it. “That’s beside the point.”
“You are not going to choose him over me.”
“You cannot tell me what to do.” She glanced at the lakeside and spied her mother and Bernie talking to a group of older ladies. They had yet to spot her. Perhaps there was still a chance. “Turn around and take me back, Alex, please.”
“Only if you say you’ll let me court you.”
“No.” She took her hand back from his. “It’s impossible. I am not who you think I am. I am dull and unexciting, and I like nothing more than embroidery and strolls along the lakeside. I am certainly
not the sort of woman you wish to court.”
“Even if I love you?”
She frowned. “Love me?” Had she misheard him?
He nodded. “It has taken a while for me to admit it to myself but damn it, Lucy, I’m fairly certain I loved you from the moment I saw you.”
“You scowled at me,” she pointed out.
“Because I was trying to be on my best behavior. My mother begged me to come to the lake to avoid all this gossip that—and I must be firm about this—is nothing to do with me.” His gaze searched hers. “I’m not lying about that, you know that, do you not?”
She closed her eyes briefly, wishing she could say otherwise. “I know that,” she admitted softly.
He was many things, but he was no liar. Which just left the matter of this love thing. Could he really be telling the truth about that too?
“So you are saying you think you loved me from first sight?” she pressed.
Why she needed to confirm that, she did not know. After all, she was going to make him return her to the shore in a moment and pretend this never happened. Perhaps she was more superficial than she thought.
“If not from then at least from our first kiss.” He grinned.
“That was—”
“Scandalous, I know.”
“I was going to say scarcely a kiss.”
“But our second one was,” he pointed out.
“And it was a mistake, one that could have cost me everything.”
“I almost wish we had been caught properly, then I could have married you.”
Lucinda had to force herself to take a breath. This was too much. First he kidnapped her, then he declared love for her, and now he wished they were married! What on earth was going on?
“Take me back to the shore,” she insisted.
“Not until you at least admit your love for me.”
“My love for you?” She blinked a few times. “No, I—”
“You love me, Lucy, or else there is no chance you would have kissed me at Eastwick.”
“That was just…” She gave a huff and folded her arms. “That was only because we nearly died.”
The Tempting of a Devilish Lord (The Lords of Scandal Row Book 2) Page 9
