Page 31 of Must Love Scoundrels
“Duncan.”
“You want me to say it won’t happen again.”Five, six, seven...move that letter there. “I’m not promising anything.”
She blew out a breath. “This isn’t about the...that. Come look out the window.”
His head came up, and he looked from her to the window. If something might have fully wrested his mind from the kiss, this was it. Duncan blew out the offending candle and joined her, standing just behind where she was concealed by the curtain she’d pulled aside.
“There,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper on the breeze wafting through the window. “Someone is out there.”
“I don’t—oh, wait. At the edge of the garden?”
She made a sound of assent.
The night was cool and whoever it was wore a cloak with the hood pulled about his or her head. Still, the figure was not large. From this distance, it was hard to make too many assumptions, but Duncan could be reasonably certain he was taller than the person lurking outside.
“Can you tell who it is?”
She shook her head. “No. You?”
“A boy or a woman, I think.”
“It could be a short man. Mr. Stimple isn’t much taller than that.”
“But the real question is what is he or she doing out there at this hour?”
Lucy looked back at him. “Let’s find out.”
***
THE HOUSEHOLD WAS ASLEEP. Lady John was not the sort of woman to stay up until the wee hours. She believed in austerity and would not even sit in a cushioned armchair until after dinner. Lucy respected that sort of forbearance as her own parents had always lived simply and modestly, despite the fact that her father was a viscount and her parents were known in some circles as celebrated spies.
She did think Lady John might allow her eldest son apple tart more often. He was given rice pudding as a sweet and that was hardly a sweet in her opinion.
She threw a dark coat over her night rail and robe and shoved her feet into sensible boots. Fortunately, she had tidied her room after dinner and knew where everything was, else she would have been stumbling and tripping over items in the dark.
In particular, she knew where Duncan Slorach was. He was that hulking shadow near the door. He was waiting for her, his back turned to give her privacy. She understood what was happening now—why he’d been late and scowling and pretending to disregard rules. He was obviously trying to convince her he was a scoundrel. It wasn’t working—well, not entirely. A scoundrel would have watched her dress, and without even thinking about it, Duncan gave her privacy.
Was that simple kindness really something she disliked? It was true that in the past she had always been drawn to men who were dangerous and a bit rough around the edges. Duncan felt safe, and he was as much a gentleman as she’d ever met.
Except...that kiss had not been one a gentleman would give. She’d expected his kiss to feel like those she’d received as a debutante—something akin to kissing a cold, wet fish.
But the kiss hadn’t felt like that at all. In fact, the kiss had been rather enjoyable. Rather the sort a scoundrel might bestow. She hadn’t wanted it to end. She might have been carried away if the candle hadn’t gotten in the way. That was her fault as she’d been holding the candle and had forgotten to keep it to the side. A good kiss could scramble one’s thoughts like that.
Lucy shoved her foot in the other boot and glanced at Duncan. Was he thinking of the kiss? Had he enjoyed it? He’d certainly gone back to deciphering quickly enough. Did it mean so little to him? If so then perhaps he wasa scoundrel.
No. He couldn’t be.
But that kiss...
“Let’s go,” she said, not bothering with the buttons to her boots. It would have wasted precious time, and they were in a hurry. Duncan opened her door silently, peered out, then motioned for her to follow him. She did so, closing her door soundlessly. Duncan moved like a large cat in the dark, quiet and sleek in his movements. She knew she moved more like a mouse, tiptoeing and pausing every few steps to look about for danger.
She heard and saw no one on the second floor. All was quiet on the first floor and all was dark, except for a light under Lord John’s library. Lucy knew he often worked until the wee hours of the morning. From the amount of correspondence coming in and out of the house, she assumed he wrote letters and dispatches all day and half the night.
Duncan had paused to peer in the direction of the library as well. He glanced about, and Lucy knew he was searching for a footman. Usually, a manservant would sit up until everyone retired so that he might light the family to bed. Lucy spotted no manservant. Had Lord John dismissed him or was it he who had crept outside? It would be easy enough to ask Lord John, but if they paused now, they’d have no chance of catching up with the figure they’d seen outside. It might already be too late.
Duncan eased the door to the house open, swearing under his breath. Lucy didn’t have to ask why. He hadn’t had to unlatch it, which meant no one had locked it. Was the oversight intentional or was it just forgetfulness? Lucy might have thought it forgetfulness. After all, there seemed to be few threats here in Richmond Park. But it hadn’t been that long ago the nanny had spotted an intruder coming through a window. Surely the staff hadn’t forgotten that incident so soon.
She stepped outside and once she and Duncan were away from the house, he leaned close to her and said, “It’s possible whoever is out here left through the front door. If we don’t catch up to him or her, we can lock it and see who is stuck outside overnight.”
