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

by Samantha Holt

  If she was right, this would be over soon.

  “We used to spend a lot of time there when I was younger. It was my father’s favorite place in the lakes.” She glanced at Leo. “Mine too, I suppose.”

  “Roger was a good father for the most part.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “He was, and sometimes I think it must have all been false—that he would never conduct himself in such a manner.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “But he left us, Leo.” She lifted a shoulder. “Whatever the rest of his crimes were, he left us and several other women. While I might have been lucky enough to have some good memories, most have nothing.”

  Leo nodded. “I suppose that is something for which to be grateful, though I cannot deny if he were not already dead, I would have a great many things to say to him.”

  “So would I,” she admitted. “But if I find this diamond, I can heal at least some of the hurt he has caused. My half-siblings will want for nothing.”

  “And what of you?”

  “Me?”

  “Will you want for anything?”

  She drew in a breath, startled by how it pricked her lungs and tightened her ribcage. “No,” she managed to murmur.

  But, of course, it was a lie, and Leo likely knew as much. She wanted, well, him.

  “I have my mother’s business in Florence, and we have several friends there.”

  “Sounds idyllic.”

  She narrowed her gaze at his dry tone, but he ignored her pointed stare and nodded toward the bare stretch of land that was the West Shore. “There’s a lot of places your father’s treasure could be.”

  “We used to play by the large oak tree.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe I did not think of it before but it’s hard to imagine he might have been sentimental.”

  “I think he loved you, Rebecca. In his own way.”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. “But love is not enough.”

  “Is it not?”

  She didn’t respond and fixed her attention to the tall tree near the edge of the lake, its great roots slowly emerging from the ground where the lake had eroded away the ground over the years.

  Love.

  The word pounded through her with each footstep. Love, love, love. No matter how much she tried to shake it from her, it lingered there, like an uncomfortable echo wrapping itself about her.

  “Let’s try here.” She strode over to the base of the tree and did a few loops around it.

  “We used to climb this one, do you recall?”

  She glanced over to spy Leo peering up at the tree. Her breath caught, her heart giving a little trip. Would she ever get used to seeing him like this, all grown up and utterly spectacular? She suspected not. Even when younger he’d made her pulse quicken but now it accelerated faster than a racing horse.

  Of course, the fact they had made love did not help matters. Whilst he remained there, hands to his hips, emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders, she could only recall his strong fingers wrapping about her body and how it had felt for him to be atop her.

  She should regret the incident, wholeheartedly, yet she could not. Some part of her, she supposed, was grateful for it. She could return to Florence, knowing she had given herself to the only man she’d ever loved.

  “Rebecca?”

  “Yes, I recall,” she managed to rasp out.

  His gaze locked with hers and she suspected he was no longer remembering climbing trees as young children but the exceedingly adult moment they had shared.

  Quickly, she looked away. She’d come here with one aim in mind—the diamond. There had been no thoughts of returning to her former life, of resurrecting a love she’d thought long lost. It would serve her no purpose to ponder on what might have been.

  Or could be?

  She shook her head to herself and did another loop of the tree. She pushed aside a large rock with her boots and kneeled to eye the ground. “I think this could be it.” She brushed aside some of the dirt.

  Leo came to her side and bent over. “Should I have brought a shovel?”

  “I didn’t even think of that, but look, it’s a slab of wood.” Using her fingers, she clawed away the loose soil and worked her fingers under the side of a slightly rotten plank of wood. Leo pressed his fingers under the other side and together they lifted the wood away.

  “This must be it.” She drew in a long breath to quell the nausea rising in her stomach at the sight of a wooden box, no larger than a serving tray. This was it. It had to be. And she should be excited. She glanced at Leo, whose gaze lingered on her. Once she had the diamond she had no reason to be here.

  And they both knew it.

  A lump knotted in her throat and Leo’s expression remained serious, tense even. For several heartbeats, she held his gaze, words of goodness knew what threatened to burst forth. Some denial that it was even the treasure perhaps. Oh no, it cannot possibly be it in the place where my father was last seen, in the place I had suspected. Not at all. So perhaps I should stay and keep hunting…

  Fool.

  “I suppose we should—”

  A crack rang across the lakes, echoing about the mountains. Behind her, the tree cracked, sending splinters of bark in her direction. Leo snatched her arm and hauled her to the ground, crushing her straight under the weight of his body.

  She scarcely managed to squeak in surprise before he covered her mouth with a hand to crush the sound. “Do not move,” he ordered.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rebecca peered up at him wide-eyed and wriggled against him, freeing her mouth from his grip. “Leo, what in heaven’s name is going on?”

  “Someone is shooting at us,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “That gunshot? Someone is simply hunting, surely?”

  He narrowed his gaze into the distance and pressed a finger to his lips to tell her to remain silent. Movement by the boulders that were clustered at the lake’s edge snared his attention, but he could not make out whether it was a person or just some wildlife.

  “Leo, you are hurting me. This isn’t funny.”

  He grabbed her drawn-back fist before she could connect it with his chest. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Leo!” She squirmed, trying to twist her hand from his grip. “What are you doing?”

  “Keep still,” he hissed. “Damn it, Rebecca.” He eased a little of his weight from her, putting more of it onto the arm used to prop him up, and focused his attention briefly on her. “Someone shot at us.” He jerked his head toward the tree where the bullet had lodged itself into the bark, splintering it around them. “Look.”

  She twisted her head to eye the bullet and he saw her throat work. “Someone is a bad shot?” she asked hopefully.

  He peered up again. “I do not think so.” Slowly, he eased off her, releasing her fist and keeping low.

  She grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

  Another shot cracked through the air. Leo ducked swiftly, pressing himself back across Rebecca’s body. He could not see where it had hit this time, but it was too close. He swore he felt the ripple of the thing through the air. A rifle, he reckoned, and someone who was a good shot. An ex-soldier perhaps. It would be the only way the bullet could travel such distance without the shooter being seen.

  Rebecca trembled beneath him. “Leo, what do we do?”

  “You stay here,” he ordered firmly. “I’m going to find the bastard.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “You cannot.”

  “Well we cannot stay here forever. If the shooter has enough ammunition, he can shoot at us all day.”

  “But you could get shot!”

  He flashed a grin. “He’ll have to be quick.”

  “That is not reassuring.” She twisted her head, trying to see someone from her prone position upon the ground but gave up and looked at him. “You cannot,” she repeated.

  A boom echoed across the lakes. Rebecca gave a squeak of terror. Leo’s mouth dried. Much lon
ger and the shooter would come upon them and fire at them at close range.

  “Stay here, stay on the ground,” he ordered. “Do not move or I shall come and shoot you myself.”

  “Let me come with you.” She grabbed his cravat before he could slide from her. “I can help.”

  “Rebecca, I know you have come to be quite the independent woman and, Lord knows, I rather appreciate it, but two of us prowling about will only draw attention and I can much better find this person alone, unhindered by damned skirts.” He plucked at the frothy gown spread about her.

  “I knew I should have stayed disguised as a boy,” she muttered.

  “You made a terrible boy.” He went to move off her again, however, she gripped his cravat tighter, fairly strangling him.

  “Do not get hurt, Leo, or I shall hurt you myself.”

  He chuckled. “I promise.” He dropped a quick, firm kiss on her lips. Whatever happened, he would not let her come to harm. He’d rather die first.

  Once he had eased from her, he crawled almost on his belly until he found cover behind the sparse trees lining the lake’s edge. From there, he moved swiftly from tree to tree and made his way to the boulders. He eyed the open position where Rebecca remained, thankfully obeying his orders. He didn’t like it, though. The shooter could cross the distance quickly enough and Rebecca had nowhere to hide apart from behind that lone tree with no way to defend herself.

  He had to move quicker.

  Taking less caution, he ducked behind the next tree and the next, pausing to look for movement. As he moved out into the open, he spotted the rifle, propped up on one of the rocks. Jaw tight, fists clenched, Leo barreled toward the shooter.

  The man spotted him, his eyes widening. He turned the rifle in Leo’s direction and shot as he neared. Leo threw himself to the ground long enough to avoid being hit, then scrabbled to standing while the man fought to reload his rifle. Leo had mere seconds. A practiced rifleman to be sure.

  He flung himself forward, fist raised. Pain burst through his knuckles when it connected with the shooter’s jaw. The man toppled back, and Leo used the chance to get atop him.

  “You will not hurt her,” he said between heavy breaths.

  The man swung at him, but Leo dodged the blow and responded with another hit to his face. The assailant writhed in vain against Leo’s hold, stretching his fingers frantically for his rifle, and Leo lifted his fist.

  “Try it and I shall beat you until senseless.” He drew in a harsh breath. “I seldom have a taste for it, but I would quite happily see your blood spilled.”

  The man lifted a knee, and Leo groaned when he struck him in the crotch and the pain seared through him. The assailant used the moment of weakness and pushed Leo back to reach for the gun.

  The man stilled and his eyes widened. Leo frowned, following the man’s gaze.

  “I do not wish to shoot you, but I will if I have to.” Rebecca stood by the rocks, her stance wide, then lifted the rifle, tore the powder and calmly poured the powder and shot into the barrel.

  Leo groaned. “I thought I told you to stay.”

  She lifted a shoulder and he saw her hands tremble around the weapon, despite her confident posture. “I thought you were dead.”

  ∞∞∞

  SEEING LEO ATOP the shooter, alive and well, didn’t do much to reassure her, even when he flashed her a grin. All she could picture was lying with her nose to the ground and hearing that gunshot, then imagining Leo bleeding to death on the ground—all for her.

  To think she had nearly lost him...

  “I’m most certainly alive.”

  She ignored his quip and gestured to the man. “I recognize you from the town. You grabbed me.”

  Though he looked smaller now, Leo had moved to hold him down again, she recalled those thick, brawny arms covered in a matt of dark hair and the pale line of a scar slicing across a weather-beaten face.

  The man’s gaze skipped between them, and Rebecca saw the tension release from his body as he heaved out a sigh.

  Leo eased off him and rose to standing but thrust a finger at him. “Move and I’ll let her shoot you.” He studied him for a few moments. “You’re Tom Bainbridge, are you not? From Tor Farm?”

  He nodded and rubbed a hand across a bristled jaw and then pushed himself up to sitting, draping his arms dejectedly across his knees. His gaze lingered on the barrel of the rifle and his lips curled. “Let her shoot me. Her father ruined my life already.”

  Rebecca narrowed her gaze. “You were shooting at me because of my father?”

  “Yes.” Tom’s jaw worked and he spat on the ground to the side of him. “He took everything.”

  “He took a lot of things from a lot of people,” she murmured.

  “He took my wife.”

  Rebecca grimaced. It did not surprise her. Her father had seduced many a woman that they knew of, and she had no doubt there were many more. How many of them had been whilst he still lived with them, she did not know, and she didn’t want to. She would do as Leo said and focus on the good moments of her childhood, unstained by the truth of her father.

  “I am sorry for that but—”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Leo snapped. “He nearly killed you.” He glared at the man. “And he’s lucky I didn’t beat him to death.”

  “He took my wife and promised her everything.” Tom shook his head and made a disgusted noise. “She died because of that bastard.”

  Rebecca eyed the man for several moments. He cast his gaze down, but grief had taken its toll on him, making him appear older than she suspected he was, with hair that had grayed before its time and a heavily lined face. She’d seen this before, in the woman he’d illegally married after her mother. The utter defeat, the desolation. She could not help but feel sorry for him.

  She handed the rifle over to Leo and crouched in front of him.

  “Rebecca—” Leo warned, scowling.

  She held up a hand and touched Tom’s arm gently. “What did my father do?”

  The man’s head shot up and he cocked his head, eyeing her with a frown. Finally, he heaved out a sigh. “He seduced her and persuaded her to give him our life savings. It wasn’t much but we’d worked hard for that. Then when he left her, she tried to follow him.”

  “And then what?” Rebecca dreaded the answer, but she had to hear it somehow.

  He twined his fingers together and stared sightlessly at them. “She returned home eventually and died of a broken heart.” He shrugged. “At least that’s what everyone reckoned.”

  She glanced up at Leo, his grim expression matching the painful beat of her heart. “Mr. Bainbridge,” she said softly, waiting until he looked up at her. “I am truly sorry for what he did to you. What he did to your wife. But I am not my father.”

  Tom’s gaze shot to hers and his eyes widened as though he were truly seeing her for the first time.

  “He was an immoral man, to be certain, and although many feel he did not truly pay for his crimes, he is gone now.” She touched his arm again. “I would suggest you look back on the good memories as much as you can. I understand it is not easy, but I am trying to do the same. You see, I lost a father too, a man I am not sure ever really existed.”

  The man glanced between her and Leo then back to her. “You really aren’t your father, are you?”

  She shook her head. No, she was not. And she was no longer going to feel bad for what he did. If she could do nothing else, it was to try to live life without his shadow hanging over her. She saw now the toll it took on someone and she had no desire to be like Tom.

  He put a hand to his mouth. “Good God, I nearly killed you.”

  “Damn right you did,” Leo muttered.

  “I should rather you did not try to hurt me again, but I do understand the hurt my father caused, if that helps.”

  Tom held up both palms. “It was a moment of madness, I swear. I was just so angry—” He shook his head. “You’re just a young girl.”

>   Rebecca nodded, rose to her feet and offered him a hand.

  Tom frowned. “I’ll hand myself in, never fear.”

  “I should rather you did not. I think enough lives have been ruined thanks to my father’s actions.”

  He wiped his hands down his dusty trousers and looked to Leo. “What of you, my lord? Would you not wish to punish me?”

  Leo lifted a shoulder and looped an arm around Rebecca’s waist, drawing her close. “If Miss Fortescue says no then I must obey.”

  The man’s lips quirked slightly. “I understand.”

  Rebecca waited until the man had ambled off before turning to Leo. “Do not be angry at me.”

  “I am not.” He pushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “Though I could wring your neck for not listening to me.”

  “I thought he had shot you!” She swallowed hard, finally shifting the painful knot that had tangled in her throat since hearing the gunshot. “I thought you were dead, Leo, and I could not—” Her voice cracked, and she drew in a breath. “I could not stand it.” She pressed her forehead to his chest. “I love you, Leo. So much.”

  “In truth?”

  She lifted her head to peer up at him. “In truth,” she said solemnly.

  “I love you too, Rebecca. Always have.” He gave a half-smile.

  Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his. There were still some things she needed to figure out, but she had not been lying when she told Tom she was no longer going to take the blame for her father’s misbehavior.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “We’re playing spades, Leo. Not hearts.”

  Leo eyed the card on the table and took it back. “Sorry,” he muttered to Adam.

  “Perhaps you should have gone with Alexander to wherever it is he has vanished to. Some fresh air might do you good.”

  “Something to do with that Miss Evans, I think.” Leo shrugged and threw a card onto the gaming table.