Page 23 of The Tempting of a Devilish Lord

He grinned to himself. It might be worth it though…

∞∞∞

LUCINDA SHIFTED ACROSS the seat, away from Alex, for the hundredth time while he directed the buggy expertly across the hills, following a scarcely there road. She hugged the side of the vehicle, too aware of the firm thigh she repeatedly brushed against.

The uneven terrain made it difficult for her to maintain the distance between them, and when they hit a rut, she slipped across the smooth leather seat straight back to his side, moving so swiftly she had to put a hand to his arm to prevent herself from practically toppling on top of him.

She caught his smirk and tightened her lips as she pressed away once more.

“You could hold on to my arm if you like. It would make for an easier ride.”

She shook her head vigorously and clung to the side of the carriage with both hands.

“You cannot see the ruin from here which is probably why you both missed it last time but there’s a narrow path that leads to a plateau. This road skirts around it so we’ll have to go on foot once we reach the bottom of the hill,” he explained.

She nodded, tightening her grip on the glossy exterior of the buggy.

“We’ll find her,” he assured her.

She nodded again and swallowed. How foolish she had been. She should not have even slept. Or perhaps locked the door to their room. She could not even fathom how she hadn’t awoken when Mary-Anne left but her sister did have rather a knack for being sneaky.

Mama would have a fainting fit if she knew what had happened.

Which was why she needed to get Mary-Anne back before Mama returned from her trip tomorrow. With any luck, sleepy Mrs. Hilton would have little idea either of them had gone anywhere.

She hoped anyway.

“What exactly is it about this castle anyway? The ruins are in rather an impressive location but there are better ruins to be seen elsewhere.”

Alex glanced at her, and Lucinda almost wished he did not. The wind ruffling his hair peeking out from underneath his hat combined with the strong, determined lock of his jaw, dashing seemed too simple a way to describe him. No doubt Mary-Anne would come up with some much more romantic manner of description, likely stolen from one of the gothic novels she read. Lucinda would be hard pressed not to agree with the description either.

However, it was irrelevant. Lucinda loathed rakes. All of them. Even if they were ridiculously handsome and willing to leap into action to rescue one’s sister. She wasn’t ungrateful for his help but that did not change who Alex was.

It did not change the fact that a rake had nearly ruined her life once. She could not let that happen again.

“We read about the castle in a book once,” Lucinda explained. “Mary-Anne somehow remembered this and has been desperate to see it ever since.”

“And she was that desperate, she did not wish to take you?”

“I had not wanted to go again.” Lucinda bit down on her bottom lip. “I should have just agreed. I should have known she would try to find it herself.”

“She’s a determined sort of young lady.”

“Something like that,” she muttered.

“So you used to read to her about castles? Interesting topic for a young girl.”

She lifted a shoulder. “We covered all sorts of medieval history. I loved it so much I just wanted to share my interest with someone—even if it was my little sister.”

She smiled slightly, recalling how Mary-Anne had crawled into her lap as a girl and begged for Lucinda to read all about battles and knights and how they lived in the past. Lucinda hadn’t been certain how she would get along with her little sister when she was born but it had been easy to love the wild, funny little girl who would rather know about a gory battle than learn her scales.

Which was precisely why she should have tried harder to protect her, to somehow prevent her from following the same path Lucinda had taken. Mary-Anne had little interest in romance, despite having read too many gothic novels for her age, but it would not be long before she paid attention to the opposite sex and with her willful disposition, she did not think it a stretch of the imagination to believe Mary-Anne might follow in her foolish sister’s footsteps. The trouble was, Mary-Anne might not be so lucky as herself. Lucinda had managed to survive it. Mary-Anne might well not.

“If you loved it so much, why did you not wish to see the castle?”

Her throat tightened. It seemed silly for it to hurt. For her to miss feeling that same passion Mary-Anne felt. Though, when her thigh brushed Alex’s yet again she could not help feel, that part of her was not as buried or hidden as she had thought. Though why a mere brush of a leg should make something so long tucked away arise, she did not know.

“Lucy?” he pressed.

---