Page 22 of The Tempting of a Devilish Lord

“I’m assuming that is why you came here.”

Lucinda nodded, glancing at her feet. “Most of the people I know are visitors to the area and they would all tell Mama what happened. She cannot find out.”

“And I, of course, would happily keep your secret, being that sort of person,” he said with a lopsided smile.

“I—well, that is...”

“I will help, of course.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Thank you, thank you. I know you are likely busy and—”

“If I had a younger sister in the same situation, I am certain you would offer your help.”

“Of course but—”

“No matter what you think of me, Lucy, I am not a heartless cad.”

She pursed her lips and nodded slightly. “Yes, of course you are not.”

“Well then where do you think she has gone?”

“Do you recall the day we met?”

“How could I forget?”

Her cheeks reddened adorably and if they were not in rather dire circumstances, he would have taken a moment to enjoy it or even say something a little scandalous to make the color deepen. However, they had to find Mary-Anne. He doubted she would run into anyone nefarious but as Lucy had already demonstrated, the wild landscape of Cumbria could be dangerous, and it would not be impossible to imagine she might have tumbled down a hill somewhere or injured herself.

“We were looking for a castle ruin. One of the townspeople told us about it,” she explained.

“And you think she is still hunting for it?”

“That is my guess. For some reason, she is obsessed with everything medieval.”

“Like her sister then.”

“But I do not know why. She used to enjoy hearing about it when she was younger, but I thought she had grown out of it. Now, suddenly, she is determined we hunt down castles and she keeps trying to persuade me to read to her again, as though she is a child once more.”

Alex frowned. “How old is she?”

“Four-and-ten.”

“Those are confusing years. I imagine more so for a girl. She is not yet a woman but nor is she a child.”

“Sometimes she acts more like a child than any other girl her age, I’m certain of it.”

“Perhaps she is trying to reclaim her childhood. She might miss the days when you told her stories,” he suggested.

Her gaze struck his, as though surprised by the idea or perhaps by the fact he might be able to surmise as much. “I suppose I had not thought of it that way. I just thought she was trying to be rebellious.”

He shrugged. “I am certainly no expert on young women’s minds, but your sister does not seem the sort to do something simply out of a need to rebel.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, drawing it under her even teeth before releasing it. It drew his attention to the wideness of her mouth and reminded him of that stolen kiss.

Reminded him that he would not mind another but that it would have to be much, much longer so he could fully explore the taste and feel of her.

“I hope you are right.”

“We will find her,” he assured her, placing a hand upon her arm. He longed to do more, wrap her up in his arms even, when he saw the tiny, vulnerable shiver that wracked her but helping her or not, he suspected he might get a sharp slap from the formal Miss Lucinda Evans if he did such a thing.

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