Page 2 of Tempting a Lonely Lord (The Rakes of Mayhem #6)

Three weeks later

Bridgewater Manor

Dover, Kent

“Lacey… where are you?” Lady Bella Connolly called to her dog.

Lacey never wandered away. Bella had swung open the kitchen door five minutes ago, the savory scent of beef stew and warm bread from their midday meal lingering behind her, and let Lacey out, trusting her faithful companion to play in the familiar, grassy expanse as she always did.

Now, as Bella stepped outside, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders to ward off the biting cold, a sense of unease washed over her.

The yard was usually noisy from Lacey’s exuberant barking and her penchant for digging up flowers, but the area felt unsettlingly quiet.

“Come on, Lacey, where are you?” Bella called. She put two fingers under her tongue and gave a loud whistle for her dog—something her father had taught her, although her Uncle Stephen often chided her for such an unladylike display.

“Come on, girl. The weather’s too cold for you.

Where are you?” Bella called again, but saw no movement anywhere.

She looked anxiously at the dark cluster of clouds above her.

Worry seeped into her as she searched the area around the house for Lacey’s familiar shape, but she saw nothing. Lacey had disappeared.

A moment later, Bella heard a whimper that sounded like Lacey, and she hurried in the direction of the sound, on her father’s property— correction , her Uncle Stephen’s property.

Her chest tightened with the grief that had become a part of her life since her father’s death, nearly a year ago, leaving her alone.

Oh, she had Grandmère—her mother’s mother—who had been by her side since her mother’s untimely death from the wasting disease two years ago.

And she had Grandmama, her father’s mother.

The two of them had become great friends over the years, and now that they were both widows, they were more like sisters than extended family.

But except for her grandmothers and Lacey, Bella had no other family.

Uncle Stephen—her father’s younger brother—didn’t quite count.

While he was her guardian, he’d made it painfully clear that she was a loose end for him—a guardianship he felt forced to assume unless he wanted the scorn that would come from denying her a home and his oversight.

Her uncle used to be fun and jovial—someone that, as a little girl, Bella had loved to spend time with—but since he had returned from the Napoleonic Wars, he had been sullen and difficult. He detested spending time with anyone.

As she searched the shrubs that lined the property, Bella recalled the horrible arguments between her father and his brother, often in the middle of the night, so loud they woke her.

With her bedroom above her father’s study and their voices so loud, Bella had heard every word.

Uncle Stephen would show up on their doorstep, demanding money to cover various “legitimate expenses,” which her father knew very well were gaming debts or money to pay for his love of wining and dining actresses or dancers around town.

As she thought about it, she realized that for at least the last ten years, she couldn’t recall her uncle spending any time with her family.

Except for those late-night visits. Uncle Stephen had been a virtual stranger until he’d become her guardian.

Usually, Papa would admonish his brother and pay the debts.

But a month before her father’s death, they’d had a very bitter fight, and she heard Papa tell Uncle Stephen he would no longer pay his debts, that his monthly allowance was more than enough to cover his expenses, and to take responsibility like a man.

Uncle Stephen told Papa that he would regret that decision and slammed the door.

She remembered feeling the same sense of unease as she felt now.

A few short weeks later, Papa was gone. He had broken his neck while riding his horse.

It had been a complete and utter shock. Her father was an expert horseman, and Winterborne was his favorite horse.

She loved the horse, too, and realized she hadn’t ridden it in almost a year.

She still visited Winterborne in his stall, but one of the grooms took on the duty of exercising him.

Not because she was angry at the beloved animal, but because Winterborne had not only been her father’s horse, he’d also been his best friend.

Since that day, Winterborne had never been the same.

The horse had become quiet and almost afraid of venturing out too far.

Bella was worried about him and knew that something needed to be done to somehow coax the animal from his dejected state of mind.

Bella could certainly understand Winterborne’s sadness, for she felt it too.

Her whole life had changed that day as well.

Not only had she lost her biggest supporter, she’d lost the one person she could share her hopes and fears with, her dreams for the future.

But now she had a stranger as a guardian.

A man she barely knew had replaced the man she adored more than anyone.

Her new guardian had moved her and her grandmothers to the summer house in Dover, Kent, for fresh air and brisk walks to alleviate her grief.

Bella hadn’t wanted the fresh air of Dover.

She missed her home, missed sitting in her father’s study, in his great leather armchair surrounded by his books and his tobacco, and the portrait of her father and late mother that hung over the fireplace mantel.

She needed familiarity, and her parents had purchased this home two years ago.

Mama had accompanied them the summer of that first year.

But it was only Papa and Bella who came in the second year.

That was last year when Papa died. As far as Bella was concerned, this wasn’t her home .

But Bella’s voice meant little. Uncle Stephen was now in charge.

“Lacey, I have treats for you, girl,” she called, praying she’d hear her dog’s whimpers again.

So intent was she on the memories of her late father and her missing dog that Bella neglected to be mindful of where she was walking.

By the time the thought occurred to her, she realized she’d wandered onto the neighbor’s land.

She had never even met her neighbor, Viscount Dudley, who hadn’t lived here until this year.

No matter. As soon as I find Lacey, I’ll hurry back.

“Lacey, girl. Where are you?” she called out again. “I have treats. Treats, Lacey! Treats!” She said it in a singsong voice, over and over.

She heard Lacey’s bark. Finally! The lure of treats had done the trick.

From its sound, Bella thought the dog was nearby.

It was cold, and she wanted nothing more than to return home to the warmth of the kitchen.

The Dover house was nice in the summer, but it could turn frigid this time of year, especially so close to the edge of the cliffs.

The mighty waves of the English Channel connecting to the North Sea via the Strait of Dover reverberated against the cliffs.

Despite the chill in the air, the view was breathtaking, and Bella made a mental note to visit this lovely spot again on a warmer day.

She would find a sunny patch of grass and tuck into a captivating book.

She paused long enough to appreciate the view but, noticing the clouds darkening, soon returned to the task at hand.

The whimpering grew louder. As Lacey followed the sound of her dog, she poked through the different grasses and wildflowers that lined the cliff’s edge, and the roar of the waves below grew much louder.

Hearing another bark, Bella realized that Lacey sounded closer.

Methodically, she pushed her way through the tall grasses and crouched low between the bushes, looking beneath and behind them for her dog. The animal’s whimpers and barking grew louder. “Lacey, I hear you. Where are you, you mischievous dog?”

As Bella neared the next bush, her foot landed on loose ground, and she slipped.

Letting out a shrill cry, she slid over the edge, desperately reaching for anything to grip to keep from falling over the cliff.

A sob of relief escaped her as her hand tangled in a clump of thick weeds.

Bella frantically hung on for dear life, admonishing herself for becoming distracted by her thoughts.

From above, she could hear Lacey’s yipping. She glanced up and saw her dog peering over the edge.

“Lacey, get help,” she cried.

The dog barked frantically as it darted back and forth from the cliff’s edge as if urging her to hold on tight.

Bella closed her eyes, praying she had the strength to hold on to the roots and wishing someone would come to her rescue.

But all she had was Lacey—and despite Lacey’s being a clever animal, she feared there was little the dog could do.

She glanced around, searching for anything that could help her.

Her skirts and petticoats were weighing her down, and her arms were becoming numb.

She heard the bushes above rustle again after what seemed like the longest few minutes of her life. “Lacey, please get help,” she pleaded. “Tell someone that I’m here. Find Uncle—”

“I’m here to help,” a deep voice said from above her, as a man with wavy blond hair and deep-blue eyes leaned over the edge. “There are some protruding roots just to the right of your feet. If you move your right foot, you will feel them. They’ll help you stay balanced.”

She did as he instructed, and her feet found the roots. They were still flimsy, but he was right. They gave her something to balance on.

“Th-thank you, sir.” Bella nodded, unsure how long she could hold on.

A few moments later she heard his voice from somewhere below her, which only confused her more. “I want you to trust me—what’s your name?”

“B-Bella.”

“Bella, I’m William. I’m standing below you and just to your right.”