Page 34 of Tempting a Lonely Lord (The Rakes of Mayhem #6)

Bella took a steadying breath and nodded.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help. But Uncle…

Papa wouldn’t want us to lose ourselves in grief or vengeance.

He would want us to live, to find happiness.

” She gave him a pointed look, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“You must pursue your dreams—whether that’s painting or, perhaps, a certain lovely widow. ”

A flicker of something lighter passed across Stephen’s face, but Bella continued with conviction. “I believe Papa visited you in that dream to remind you of that—to encourage you to live the life you were meant to live.”

He nodded. “What if I join you in a little while? I have a couple of things to tend to in my study. When I finish, perhaps we can go for a ride.”

Bella smiled. “I’d love that, Uncle Stephen.”

~*~

The Bridgewater stables

“Winterborne, come here, fella,” Bella called, waving a carrot enticingly. The handsome gelding pricked his ears and trotted to the stall door, his dark eyes bright with recognition.

She had begun to think of him as hers—because surely that was what Papa would have wanted.

As she stroked Winterborne’s velvety muzzle, her thoughts drifted to her own horse, still at the Bridgewater family estate in Hertfordshire.

Duchess.

The beautiful white mare her father had given her on her sixteenth birthday.

She had hoped Uncle Stephen would bring her here, but he hadn’t.

Now, she understood why. Even so, she would have to speak to him about it again.

She missed Duchess—missed the steady companionship of her gentle-hearted mare.

And she knew, deep down, that Winterborne missed her too.

Duchess had always had a calming presence. Bella was certain she could help Winterborne as well.

She absently stroked the horse’s forelock, already imagining the day the two horses would ride together again.

Perhaps Grandmama would join her—she still rode on occasion.

She had always been an excellent horsewoman.

They could exercise both horses, a comforting thought that brought a small smile to Bella’s lips.

“Arf!” Lacey barked, nudging an apple toward Winterborne with her nose.

Bella laughed. “Are you stealing Garrett’s apples again, you little thief?

” she teased, scratching behind the dog’s ears.

“You’re such a sweet girl. You were the only one who kept Winterborne company all those months.

I think that deserves a proper reward.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“Perhaps an extra bone from the kitchen? I’ll have to ask Mrs. Bisque to set one aside for you. ”

Leaning down, she kissed Lacey’s soft black nose. The dog grinned up at her, eyes full of knowing mischief, as if to say, I knew you’d come around. We were both just waiting for you to feel better.

The sun had just risen, the air was crisp, and a layer of light frost covered the bushes and grassy area around the stable. They were alone. It was Bella’s favorite time with her horse—even when they were back in Hertfordshire.

As a child, she would watch from her window as her father put his horse through its paces, the two moving together in perfect harmony.

Those quiet moments belonged to them alone.

Then, when no one was looking, she would slip outside to visit the other horses, whispering secrets into their ears and sneaking them carrots and apples.

The memory tightened her throat with emotion. Her conversation with Uncle Stephen had stirred old grief, bringing tears to her eyes—but it had also warmed her heart. For the first time in years, she felt truly close to him.

“I do feel better, Lacey and Winterborne. It just took me a while,” she murmured, handing each a treat from her pocket. Winterborne finished his apple and grabbed the carrot from her hand. Lacey enjoyed the cheese that Mrs. Bisque had wrapped in a napkin for her.

As Winterborne leaned in for another apple, he suddenly jerked back, tossing his head violently. A shrill scream tore from his throat as he reared, slamming his hooves against the wooden stall in a frenzy of agitation.

Bella barely had time to turn before arms wrapped around her from behind. A damp rag, reeking of laudanum, was pressed hard against her mouth and nose.

Panic exploded through her. She struggled, twisting against the iron grip, but it was too late. The sickly-sweet scent filled her lungs, making her head swim. Behind her, wood splintered as Winterborne thrashed, his cries of rage piercing the air.

A low, cruel whisper brushed against her ear. “I killed your father to get this house—to own the mine rights.”

Bella let out a muffled cry, jerking her head, trying to break free, but his grip was relentless.

“Even with glass beneath his saddle, the stupid beast refused to throw him,” Darkmoor sneered. “So I forced his hand. One shot from my pistol, and he went down. He was groggy but alive—until I finished the job.”

His laughter sent ice through her veins. “One good blow with a rock, and it looked like an accident. And now, Bella, it’s all mine—you, the property, and the copper.”

The rag pressed harder, stealing her breath and forcing the drug deeper into her lungs. Spots danced in her vision. Her ears rang with the sound of Winterborne’s screams and Lacey’s frantic barking—until she heard a sudden, furious growl.

“Damn dog,” the Baron spat.

Before she could react, she heard the sickening thud of his boot making contact. Lacey let out a sharp, pained yelp as she hit the wall and whimpered, the sound cutting through Bella like a knife.

No!

She tried to fight, tried to force herself to stay conscious. But the laudanum dragged her under, her limbs going slack as darkness swallowed her whole.

~*~