Page 24 of The Tempting of a Devilish Lord

She blinked a few times. The man must think her mad, tearing up over the thought of visiting a ruin. She shifted in her seat and tweaked her fichu. “As I mentioned before, I am not so interested in history these days.”

He eyed her for so long that she had to meet his gaze. “Should you not be concentrating on driving?” She peered over the edge of the buggy where the slope of the hill dropped down and would surely mean death if he navigated them wrong.

Alex chuckled and turned his attention back to the narrow path. “I only wonder why you protest so much. Did some beau once tell you they preferred ladies to remain quiet and empty-headed?”

“I have no beau,” she snapped back and then felt guilty when she thought of Bernie. But it was hard to think of Bernie as a beau. His no-nonsense letters were hardly full of romantic prose, and though they had been writing to one another for years now and everyone assumed he would propose one day, the thought of him doing as much did not fill her with unbridled joy.

He was safe, though. And he would certainly never drive at far too fast a pace across a narrow hilltop road.

“I’ve travelled this road many a time,” he said, and she uncoiled her hand from the seat where her knuckles had turned white.

“You drive very fast,” she commented.

“We are in a hurry, are we not?”

“I suppose.”

“Besides, what is the sense in having these marvelous vehicles if one cannot drive fast in them?”

She put a hand to her bonnet as she felt the ribbons tug against her hat. Was it her imagination or was he moving even faster?

“If one does not arrive at one’s destination, it all seems rather pointless.”

“But who knows on what day one will not reach their destination. I could be doing something incredibly dull and drop dead.”

“Well, that’s rather grim.” She glanced at him and noticed the briefest flash of something cross his face—a little pain in his brow perhaps. Mrs. Barker had mentioned the marquis had been married in the past, but she died suddenly, though the conclusion from his rakish reputation was it had not bothered him much.

But perhaps Mrs. Barker was wrong.

“Life can be grim.” He cracked a smile. “Which is why I am determined to make it less so.”

“By killing us on this hilltop.”

He chuckled. “Enjoy the ride, Lucy. You never know when it will end.”

She rolled her eyes, but she could not deny there was the tiniest, tiniest part of her that agreed with him. Clearly, she had learned nothing over the years.

Chapter Eight

“Not too much farther,” Alex assured Lucinda.

“This would be much easier without...” She tugged her gown from where it had snagged on a thistle. “Skirts,” she huffed.

“Well, feel free to take it off.”

She glared at him and he let his grin expand.

“Why are you here anyway?” she demanded.

“I do believe you requested my help...”

“No. In Langmere. Mrs. Jones said you are rarely in residence.”

“Ah.” He paused for a heartbeat. He wasn’t certain he wanted to tell the story of the scandal that had chased him here. Why, however, he did not know. He had done nothing wrong.

Maybe because he still had some vague hope he would win the uptight Lucy over.

Maybe because he could not cease thinking about how perfectly pink her lips were.

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