Page 1 of The Taming of a Wicked Rogue

Chapter One

Delicate fingers curled around Leo’s forearm. He glanced down at the digits against the mohair of his jacket and paused, his right foot set on the step of the carriage.

“You are not leaving me, are you?”

He flashed a smile at Lady Somner and returned his foot to the pavement then turned to face her fully. She unwrapped her fingers but remained a mere foot or so away. He smelled her liberally applied, expensive perfume and ran his gaze briefly over the elegant column of her luxurious silk gown.

A gown that clung carefully to each curve—curves he knew intimately albeit briefly. They’d been enjoyable curves indeed. One might even say exceptional.

Lady Somner offered everything one might want from a widowed lover—discretion, enthusiasm, humor and good looks that had yet to fade, despite being fifteen years his senior.

But while she might be keen to offer him a taste of all her exceptional qualities, even she could not persuade Leo to break his cardinal rule.

No attachments. No second chances.

“I’m off to live a solitary life in the countryside,” he quipped.

“Goodness, but why? You do not even like the country.” Her lips formed a tempting pout, but he recalled his mother’s stern words.

He wasn’t going to tell Lady Somner his mother had demanded it amongst a careful show of tears and wracking coughs and that he, a fully grown man of six and twenty, had been completely hoodwinked and unable to deny her one demand.

“Is this about that...scandal?” she whispered the last part. “I know you would never do such a thing.”

“I am in need of country air and a little shooting,” he said vaguely. “Never fear, I shan’t be away long.”

“I do hope not.” She bit down on her bottom lip and looked up at him through her lashes—a deliberately calculated move by his estimation. “I shall miss you terribly.”

“And I you, Lady Somner.” He dipped his head and offered a quick kiss to her gloved knuckles. “But, alas, a gentleman must do what a gentleman must do.”

She frowned. “Shoot and breathe country air?”

“Something like that.” He cracked another smile and the frown softened.

“Do not forget me.”

“Never, my lady.”

He climbed into the carriage and offered her a quick wave then tapped the roof of the carriage. He settled back against the chair, ignoring Lady Somner’s blown kiss. She knew his rules. All of his lovers did. Hell, all of London society did. Lord Leonard Moncrieff did not bed the same woman more than once.

Even the beautiful Lady Somner could not force him to break that rule. He’d experienced attachment and felt the painful sting it had to offer. He had little desire to suffer that ever again.

The vehicle rolled away from the townhouse and worked slowly through the busy streets. He stared mournfully at the shadowy interior of the carriage and blew out a breath. Lady Somner was not wrong. He didn’t like the country and scarcely visited the family seat.

But, alas, he and scandal had become fast friends of late—tales of his endeavors often gracing the pages of newspapers. And whilst most of them were mild narratives that could be weathered with ease, this latest one would not fade so swiftly.

What was worse, was he had nothing to do with the whole sordid mess. If he was going to be accused of planting a child in the belly of the daughter of a duke, he could have at least enjoyed the pleasure.

Lord, he might have his rules but even he was not so callous as to abandon an innocent to her fate. Unfortunately for him and his two brothers, her secret lover had been spotted a time or two and held a resemblance to the three of them.

He folded his hands across his stomach, leaned back and stretched his legs out as far as they could go. He shook his head to himself. The lady in question would not admit to who her lover was, and the man had a similar build and hair color to the three of them. Admittedly neither he nor his brothers were innocent virgins, but the furor surrounding the whole situation was beginning to grow tiresome.

Especially for their mother, who could be in delicate health and found the whole debacle wearying. So wearying that even Leo could not deny her when she requested he leave Town until the lover had either been discovered or the gossips ceased wagging their tongues.

Leo could deny a woman anything with a flash of a smile and send them on their way practically skipping, as though it had been their choice. However, he could deny his mother nothing.

So here he was, on his way to deepest, darkest Cumbria where there would be little company but sheep and alewives to live a solitary life for goodness knows how long.

At least, he supposed, it would be easy enough to avoid the fairer sex. He’d vowed to his mother he would forgo the company of all women and that would be easy enough in Langmere. The rural town by his brother’s entailed estate bred hardy women who were hardly known for their charming manners or skills in the boudoir. Most of them were over the age of fifty too.

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