Page 14 of The Tempting of a Devilish Lord

“I am going to string you up, Mary-Anne,” she muttered, stomping up the gravel path toward the grand house.

She spied the servant’s entrance, tucked into the bottom of the building, then the rear one, up a flight of stone steps. Knowing her sister, she would take the boldest entrance and the one that was most likely to lead to the armory. Glancing around, Lucinda hastened up the steps, inched open the glass door and slipped into a generous, practically empty room.

Empty that was, apart from one person.

Her rescuer.

Chapter Five

“Oh.”

Alex allowed himself a slow smile. When not splayed out on a rock, Lucy looked a little less wild and rather more prim.

Not that the high fichu and simple cut of her gown distracted him from her attractiveness. In fact, it was rather the opposite. If her intention had been to appear plain, the dull nature of her garments ensured one’s attention strayed to her soft, petal pink lips, slightly rosy cheeks and wide eyes surrounded by that pretty halo of red curls.

She swiftly twisted around and fumbled for the door in a bid to escape.

She would not be escaping. Not if he could help it.

He took a few steps forward and put his hand to the latch of the door.

Her startled gaze met his and her brow furrowed. “I should not be here,” she admitted.

“I know.”

“What areyoudoing here anyway?”

He debated toying with her for a moment, but he found himself oddly unable to. Something about the depths of those blue eyes sucked him in, made him want to spill all his truths. Not that he had many. The life of a marquis tended to be laid bare for anyone to see. As was shown by her presence here. Privacy did not exist for a lord.

“I live here.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened further. “Oh!” She glanced around a few times. “You are one of the marquis’s brothers?”

He let his smile expand. “Not quite.”

She narrowed her gaze. “A guest then?”

“No.”

He took a little step back and glanced briefly at the portrait on the wall behind him. She scowled, following his gaze, and gasped. “You’re the marquis?”

“For my sins, yes.”

“Oh dear.” She dropped into a deep curtsey. “Please forgive me, and my intrusion. I will just be—” She tried to turn around again, but he blocked her exit. She kept her head bowed.

“Considering we were not formally introduced, Lucy, I hardly think I can blame you.”

Her head snapped up, her cheeks reddening. “You should not call me that,” she hissed. “Someone might hear.”

“I believe we are entirely alone.” He gestured around the empty entranceway. Their only company was a few stone pillars, the bloody awful portrait his mother had commissioned upon his ascension to marquis and some large plants in each corner of the room.

“That’s even worse!”

“In case you did not notice, you were the one to enter here alone. I am simply guilty of taking a stroll through my house.”

“I was looking for my sister,” she admitted softly.

“Mary-Anne?”

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