Page 15 of The Tempting of a Devilish Lord

She nodded. “She wanted to see your armory.”

Alex lifted his brows. “She is young. What interest could she have in the armory?”

“She’s fourteen,” Lucy concurred. “And she has rather a desire to see all things medieval. It’s my fault I’m afraid.”

“It’s your fault she is interested in a certain period of history? How does that happen?”

“I have—hadI suppose—rather a passion for it myself. I used to study the era.”

“Had?”

“Well, one has to grow up at some point, do they not?”

He eyed her for a moment. What was it that had caused this woman to believe she had to grow out of her passions? He knew the fear—the worry that all things fun and interesting would be lost to responsibility and boredom, which was precisely why he had run for the mountains—literally—upon the death of his wife. But it seemed almost as though this woman had done it deliberately. What would cause a pretty young lady to consign herself to a life of boredom?

“Growing up is extremely overrated.”

“Well, you would say that,” she snapped back. “You are precisely the sort who will never grow up.” She paused, put a hand to her mouth and then dropped into another curtsey. “Forgive me, my lord. That is—”

He touched her elbow, urging her to straighten. “Considering our meeting yesterday, I’d rather you call me Alex.”

“Alex?”

“My name?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” She peered around and leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper. “But we still have not been formally introduced.”

He chuckled. “That will be our secret.”

Her cheeks colored again, and he considered how he might like to have more secrets with her. He had a few already, after all. He knew what her waist felt like beneath his hands and he still recalled the scent of her when up close. Soap and a little lavender.

“I suppose we had better find your sister then.”

Though a strong part of him would rather have Miss Lucy Evans to himself.

Ridiculous really. He could have his fill of women when he returned to London and he had kept his promise to his mother. However, he could not recall any woman being quite as fascinating as Lucy.

She looked toward the gardens and then her shoulders dropped, and she gave a slight nod. “I suppose we had better.”

“Do not worry, I shall not bite.”

Lucy’s lips spread into a thin line. “I did not think you would, my lord.”

He offered a wry smile. Most women could not wait to get him alone. Perhaps that was part of her appeal. But he wasn’t foolish enough to fall for that. He’d seen many a man chase the unattainable and make an utter buffoon of himself. The Marquis of Kirbeck did notchase.

Though, he supposed he could be persuaded to trail after her just a tiny bit.

“At least not hard,” he murmured.

“Pardon?”

“Not a thing.” He smiled broadly. “Shall we?” He gestured toward the righthand door. “The armory is this way.”

He saw her throat work and then she gave a tiny incline of her head and marched regally to the door. Alex chuckled to himself and followed.

So much for not chasing.

∞∞∞

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