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

by Samantha Holt

  “A walk,” she finally replied.

  “And here I thought you were set on being rather secretive.”

  “I am allowed a walk, am I not?”

  “I am allowed to accompany you, am I not?”

  She glanced back at the house. “Return to your guests.”

  “I’d rather walk.”

  “That, I do not believe.”

  His lips quirked. “It seems you believe you still know me, Rebecca.”

  “I know of you, Leo. Hardly a day goes by when the newspapers do not write of the Moncrieff brothers and their exploits.” Continuing along the path at a speedier pace than before, she bit back a groan when he took a couple of big strides and caught up with her.

  “I am gladdened to know you cared.”

  She bit down on her bottom lip. Of course she cared. How could she not? Leaving Leo amongst a storm of scandal and dishonor hurt her more than anything in her life.

  However, that was a long time ago and whether she cared for him or not was irrelevant. She had no desires to return to her old life, no matter how tempting. Leo had changed, she had changed, and more importantly the world had changed. The warm greetings she enjoyed as a child, before the truth of her father’s life had been revealed, were long gone. People wrote of her father almost as much as they wrote of Leo and the majority of it was a lot less flattering.

  “You are going to the old house, are you not?” he pressed when she continued on silently.

  “No.” She kept her gaze fixed ahead.

  “There is little else in this direction.”

  “I told you, I’m walking.”

  “To the house,” he finished for her. “Though, I must warn you it is in a terrible state. No one was willing to purchase it once it was stripped of its assets.”

  A lump tangled in her throat. The house had been warm and beautiful to grow up in, set amongst wildflower fields and the steep slopes of the hills. She’d read of her childhood home’s fate and known it would not be the same place she’d grown up in anymore.

  But if she was ever to make up for her father’s behavior, she needed to find this blasted diamond.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she murmured.

  “So you are going to the house.”

  “I am, but there is little need for you to accompany me.”

  “Well, I have nothing better to do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You are still stubborn I see.”

  “And you are still a pain in the rear.”

  She sucked in a breath, stopped and faced him. The last time he’d called her that, she had been five and ten. She would never forget it. She’d jabbed him in the chest, accusing him of being ungentlemanly.

  Then he’d kissed her.

  She had been lost from that point on. They were never apart, and all expected them to marry once older.

  Rebecca drew up her shoulders and tried to swallow the painful web of emotions in her throat. “If I am such a pain in the rear, why did you offer me a bed at Eastwick? And why oh why are you following me?”

  “Perhaps because I want answers.”

  “Answers? I already told you I am visiting the house.”

  “After much persuasion,” he said dryly.

  “Leo, I do not have time for this.” She marched on but this time he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. She tried to step around, but he moved again. “Leo!” she said, frustration tinging her voice.

  “I want answers, Rebecca, and you are going nowhere until I have them.”

  She met his serious gaze and frowned. “You can hardly keep me captive.”

  He shrugged. “I probably could if I wished.”

  Eyeing his folded arms, she suspected he was right. He could easily scoop her up and do whatever he wished with her. A tiny swirl of anticipation coiled around her stomach, and she inhaled deeply to remove the foolish sensation.

  “Very well. What do you wish to know?”

  He uncrossed his arms. “What happened that night?”

  “I do not know why you—” He fixed her with a look, and she sighed. “Very well, you know what happened. My father’s creditors caught up with him and we left, fleeing to Italy so they could not catch us.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But you should know this. It has been widely written about since his death.”

  “I did not know it at the time. You vanished, Rebecca. Gone. Like you were never even here.”

  Pain etched furrows in his brow, and it made Rebecca’s breath catch. “I am sorry, but my father gave us no chance to send word or scarcely even pack. He had us leave under the cover of darkness before either my mother or I knew what his intent was.”

  “And you settled in Florence?”

  She nodded. “My mother is still there. I will return to her once my business here is complete.”

  “Which is?”

  “Private,” she said tightly and tried to step swiftly around him.

  Leo shifted and put both hands to her arms. “One more question then...why did you never write? Why not one single word?”

  She glanced away. “Why should you wish to hear from me? My father left owing money to the people of this town. Even your father!”

  “You did nothing wrong, Rebecca.” He released her arms and ran a hand over his face. “Hell, I was in ignorance as to your whereabouts for years. One letter would have sufficed.”

  “I really did not think—”

  “You thought wrong, Rebecca. Gravely wrong. Of course I would wish to hear from the girl I loved.”

  The word rang in her ears and swirled around her like a violent tempest. Her eyes began to burn with unshed tears, and she swallowed hard. “I...I was wrong,” she managed to say huskily. “I’m sorry.”

  “Damn right,” he muttered.

  She stared at the polished tips of his boots, marred slightly by a few errant blades of grass. Of course, she’d known she caused him pain, but she did not realize any of it still lingered like it did with her. As far as she was concerned, Leo Moncrieff had moved on from her a long time ago.

  “I’m trying to make things right,” she confessed, keeping her gaze to the ground. “That is why I am here. To heal some of the hurt my father caused.”

  Chapter Six

  If Rebecca thought he was going to be satisfied with the minimal answers she’d given him, then she truly did not know him anymore. She called it stubbornness, he called it tenacity. Usually he used it in swaying some beautiful widow into his bed for one night only, but today he would use it to get more information from Rebecca.

  Though, in doing so, he would have to be careful. He’d already stolen far too many glances at her rear or wondered how it would feel to tangle his fingers in her hair.

  Maybe it was just a symptom of his vows to his mother. Really, he should still be angry at her. Perhaps he was. But that did not prevent him recalling the heat between them, even when they had been young and innocent. It had been palpable, and he suspected it remained, only bolstered by the fact they were both fully grown adults now.

  She was going to leave, though. Again.

  She could not make it any clearer. She talked of returning to Florence, of finding no welcome here. He had his doubts her welcome would be as frosty as she suggested but it should not matter to him either way. Once this blasted scandal business had passed, he would return to Town and slip straight into his old life of debauchery and pleasure. He did not need to let his head get muddled with thoughts of what might have once been.

  “So what exactly do you believe you can do to make up for your father’s behavior?”

  Not that he believed she owed anyone anything. Her father had paid for his crimes and Rebecca had been an innocent, but even when younger, she had always taken care of others, from nursing a young stable hand better to bringing him every wounded animal she ever found.

  To have caused hurt to others no doubt pained her. He glanced sideways at her and gave her a grudging smile. She might have left him with no word and shattered his
heart, but she still held those qualities he had much admired.

  Frustrating really. Could she not have turned into an ugly, selfish hag and allow him to be grateful he had escaped a future with her?

  She pursed her lips and lifted her skirts to step over a large rock in the middle of the path. “My father...he left behind something of value.”

  “Something?”

  She glanced at him.

  “It’s not as though I am going to rob you, Rebecca.”

  “A diamond,” she blurted.

  He lifted his brows. “A diamond.”

  She nodded. “When we left with such haste, he hid a box of belongings in the hopes he would be able to come back for them. I believe that is precisely why he was in Cumbria when he was captured.”

  “How did you know about this?”

  “A few old letters I finally read after his death—they mentioned this diamond and his desire to retrieve it.”

  “And you believe it to be true.”

  “My father made up a great many stories to hide the truth of his life—”

  “Including pretending to be the cousin of Lord Phillips,” he added.

  The one crime that had been the unravelling of him and had ensured he would face the noose. Why the man had tried such a bold act of crime, he did not know, but it had become known since his trial that Rebecca’s father was nothing if not ambitious and appeared to believe himself entirely immune to the law.

  “Indeed.” She grimaced. “So many that he left behind a trail of wives and children.”

  “I heard,” Leo said solemnly.

  “The woman he married after my mother had no idea his first wife still lived. She thought him a fine, upstanding gentleman, but he spent all of her dowry and left her penniless—and with child.”

  “Lord,” he muttered. He’d avoided reading of Roger Fortescue. It reminded him too much of Rebecca.

  “So when I found mention of this diamond, I knew I must find it. It will be worth a fortune and I can aid her and my half-siblings.”

  “And if the diamond is not real?”

  She set her jaw. “It is, I’m certain of it.”

  “What if he already found it and moved it?”

  “If he had it, it would have been mentioned when he was arrested. If he moved it, it cannot have gone far. He never left Langmere.” She shrugged. “I did not understand my father when I was younger, but I understand him well enough now. Riches were his primary motivation, and greed controlled him. No doubt he thought he could marry Miss Young, take her wealth and sell the diamond after they were wed.”

  Leo shook his head. “If he had but left the lakes, he would likely still be alive today.”

  She nodded. “He cared only for money it seems.”

  “I thought he cared about you.”

  One shoulder lifted and she fixed her gaze on the horizon ahead. “Maybe he did, I do not know. But at some point, he clearly tired of pretending to be a perfect father.”

  He ground his teeth together. He’d been too angry she had left him with no word of her fate that he did not think how it must have felt to have her world ripped from underneath her. The Fortescues had enjoyed a privileged life and Roger Fortescue appeared an excellent father, encouraging his daughter to read and think for herself. Maybe it had been real for a while, but that loss must have been grave.

  He paused by the row of trees that hid the house from view and put a hand to her arm. “Do you wish me to go to the house? If it is, uh, too painful that is.”

  “Certainly not.” Her shoulders lifted and he tried not to grin. To think she called him stubborn. She really had not changed.

  ∞∞∞

  REBECCA LET HERSELF sag once the house came into view, finally releasing the breath she’d held for too long. She was not certain what she had expected but the house appeared entirely normal from the outside. The grass surrounding it had become wild and the garden her mother loved was overgrown with bramble bushes, but it was not the neglected ruin she feared.

  Aware of Leo watching her reaction, she strode forward and stilled, drawing in a gasp. “The bridge has gone!”

  He nodded grimly. “Dismantled for the stone, I believe.”

  She stepped up to the edge of the moat and peered at the remnants of the stone bridge that connected the house to the land. Built in the Tudor period, the generous-sized house had long ago given up its drawbridge and the stone one had been in place years before her family lived there.

  She eyed the stone exterior. The windows were empty of curtains or any sign of residence, and the stillness struck her. When she had left the house, she had foolishly believed they would return as soon as her father had solved whatever problems they were running from. She blinked away the tears threatening to cloud her vision.

  “You really think the diamond is in there?”

  “It has to be. I have searched everywhere else.” She studied the few stones left of the bridge, surrounded by a tangle of weeds and murky water. If she just—

  “Rebecca...”

  She looked to Leo. “I have to get in.”

  He shook his head. “If you fall in, you will be lucky not to drown.”

  “I can step across.” She gestured to the stones. “I think.”

  “You loathe weeds, remember?” He leaned over and peered at the water. “I think there’s fish in there too.”

  A shiver travelled through her. She detested swimming with fish and would far rather swim in one of the clear lakes in Cumbria, where one could see what was about one. The thought of a weed or fish tangling around her leg made her stomach bunch.

  Glancing again at the house, she lifted her shoulders and took the first step, landing solidly on the lump of stone. Quickly, she moved across the next two, ignoring Leo’s utterance of her name. She took another step, wavered on the uneven rubble and flailed her arms until she found her balance.

  “Only a few to go,” she murmured to herself.

  “Oh hell,” Leo muttered from behind her.

  She only understood why he’d cursed when she took the next step and lost her balance. She toppled sideways into the water, fully submerging with a gasp. The water felt thick and the weeds surrounded her, not offering a cushion but more of a prison, winding about her as though they intended to suck her down into the darkness. She fought to lift her head above the water, her garments so heavy they might as well have been made of lead. Bitter water caught in her throat when she tried to gulp down a breath and she choked on it, swallowing more in the process.

  A strong arm banded about her waist and lifted her higher. She sucked in air. Leo dragged her forward, and she tried to help but exhaustion already leached through her entire body. He aided her toward the crumbled end of the bridge, pushing her up until she was able to drag herself out of the water. Rebecca rolled on her back and took several deep breaths while Leo hauled himself up and lay next to her. They remained there for a few moments, in silence.

  “You are still as bloody mad as you always were,” he finally said.

  Rebecca couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. He chuckled too.

  She rolled onto her side and pushed up to sitting. “Forgive me.”

  He shook his head and pushed a hand through his hair. She spied his hat and jacket on the other side of the moat. She supposed her impromptu swim had been far too predictable.

  Then her attention fell to his chest, where the damp fabric of his shirt clung to his body. He’d already been turning into a man when she had known him, but she doubted she could ever have imagined the astonishingly handsome specimen before her. She bunched her hands together to fight the need to lean forward and run her fingers along him to truly see what he had turned into.

  His gaze met hers and she swore he echoed similar thoughts.

  Stepping up swiftly, she grimaced at the feel of her wet skirts clinging to her legs. “We had better make haste or we shall catch our death of cold.”

  “At least the day is relatively warm.” He nodd
ed toward the moat. “And we need to decide how the devil we are getting back across?”

  She made a face. “Um. Swim again, I suppose. Just voluntarily this time.”

  He lifted his gaze to the skies. “I should have stayed at home.”

  “Yes, you should have done,” she snapped, recalling him flirting with that pretty young lady. For a moment, she had forgotten it all. Who he was, who she was. Who they were.

  “Well, where do you suggest we start?” He indicated to the house.

  “There were a few hidden rooms. I am hoping he hid his belongings in one of those and it went undiscovered.”

  He grimaced. “We may not be able to search.”

  Leo frowned, and she followed his gaze. An old lady hobbled along the side of the moat, gesturing angrily at them. “Intruders!”

  He stepped in front of her, though why he thought she needed protection from the stooped old lady, she did not know.

  “Do you know her?” Rebecca murmured.

  He shook his head. “I haven’t been here since you left.”

  She peered at them through wire-framed glasses. “Get away from there. There’s nothing to be taken, you know. Thieves have already taken everything of value.” She waved her walking stick at them for good measure.

  “We are not thieves,” Leo assured her. “In fact, this young lady used to live here.”

  Rebecca’s heart dropped to her freezing toes. Did he not know what was at stake here? Did he not understand her need for secrecy at all?

  The woman peered around Leo, and Rebecca ducked farther behind him but too late apparently.

  “You are a relative of that awful Fortescue?” She spat at the grass. “He still owes my husband money. Went to his grave without paying us one jot.”

  Rebecca eased out from behind Leo. “I am deeply sorry for that. If you but let me know how much it is you are owed, I will ensure the debt is paid.”