Page 5 of Scoundrel Take Me Away (Dukes in Disguise #3)
She had been gone a long time. In that time, she’d thought mainly about the ways she was changing and maturing—growing up—but it hadn’t occurred to her to wonder what might have changed at home in her absence.
It hadn’t occurred to her to wonder if there would be a place for her anymore in the lives of the people she considered her home.
Perhaps she hadn’t grown up quite as much as she’d thought.
But none of that meant she was wrong about Thorne. Thornecliff , she corrected herself furiously. He was a rotter, through and through.
Into the deepening awkwardness of the silence that had befallen the dining room, Thornecliff’s words dropped like petals to the surface of a lake.
“Perhaps I may be of service in helping Lady Lucy readjust to life in England,” he said to Nathaniel. “After all, when she left these shores, she was barely old enough to have tasted any of the delights of our fair city. I would be happy to offer myself as a guide. By way of an olive branch.”
“Oh, yes, Thorne,” Bess said at once, forestalling Lucy’s appalled objections. “Do take Lucy round. She must reacquaint herself with the wonders of London, now that she’s absorbed all that Continental culture.”
“Bess!” Lucy protested, unable to believe her sister-in-law supported this daft notion.
“Consider it, Lucy, do,” Bess urged her. “Thorne knows everyone in Town. He could greatly facilitate your reentry into society. And if you spent more time together, I’m certain you would come to regard Thorne as we do. As a friend.”
Lucy could only gape at her, and Thornecliff took her silence as agreement.
“It’s settled, then,” he said smoothly.
“Nothing too scandalous,” Nathaniel said, belatedly cautious—then he stunned Lucy by addressing the rest of his warning to her .
“I know you’re a lady of independent means, Lucy, but you are still a Lively and my sister.
Please do not ask Thornecliff to squire you to a gaming hell or a bear baiting or whatever it is young people get up to these days. ”
“I don’t care about gambling,” Lucy protested, stung. “And bear baiting is barbaric and cruel. You’d much better worry about what sort of amusements a libertine like Thornecliff would deem acceptable for me.”
Those damnable eyebrows arched high once more over eyes as black as the Devil’s soul. “Never fear, Lady Lucy. You will be as safe in my company as you wish to be.”
A shiver tremored across the surface of Lucy’s skin as she stared into those eyes.
Against all the odds, against her will and better judgment—it was not a shiver of revulsion.
She was very much afraid it was quite the opposite, in fact.
Balls.
She had to take control of this before it galloped away with her. “I am sorry to disappoint everyone who is busily making plans for my sojourn in London, but I’m afraid I must decline His Grace’s kind invitation.”
Silence blanketed the table like a heavy linen tablecloth.
Thornecliff sat back in his chair as though he was congratulating himself on provoking her into being the rude, ill-mannered one.
Bess bit her lip and looked down at her plate, but it was Nathaniel’s steady gaze that caused Lucy’s cheeks to heat with an uncomfortable blush.
He looked disappointed in her. It was an expression she had wished never to see on his face again.
“I’m here to help Bess during her confinement,” Lucy explained, suddenly awkward. “That’s why I’ve come back. Surely I can best help her by staying with her, not gallivanting about Town.”
“Please don’t trouble yourself,” Thornecliff purred with excessive courtesy. Damn him. “I’m not offended in the slightest.”
Lucy scowled at him across the table. He should be offended. She wouldn’t accept an invitation from him if he was the last man alive, and she longed to tell him so.
From the look on his face, he was quite aware of everything Lucy wasn’t saying. Aware, and amused by it.
Do not become distracted , Lucy lectured herself as she retreated into stoic silence for the rest of the interminable dinner party. She didn’t allow Thornecliff to draw her into any more verbal sparring matches, despite his various inciting comments, and at length he finally departed.
Retiring to her bed soon after, pleading travel weariness, Lucy settled into the soft, familiar mattress and stared up at the ornate plasterwork adorning the ceiling of her bedchamber as the rest of the house settled into quiet outside her door.
She wondered again what Thornecliff was about, making up to her brother and turning Bess’s head by pretending to have nice manners and a newfound—and completely implausible—interest in charity.
But she had not come home to England to bandy words with depraved dukes. Lucy thrust Thornecliff from her thoughts with a sense of relief.
She had chapters to write. She had a public—and a publisher—to satisfy. She had a sister-in-law to aid and comfort, and a niece to befriend and care for.
And she had a highwayman to hunt down.
Lucy Lively was back. All grown up, and ready to meet her destiny.