Except it hadn’t been easy.And as Lucy slipped past the butler and disappeared into her brother’s house with one last, searing backward glance over her slim, white shoulder, Thorne knew…
The plan was fucked.
Because there was absolutely zero chance that he would be able to have her once,twice at the most, and then forget about her.
As his carriage rumbled away from the curb, Thorne sank into the squabs, absently palmed his angry, neglected cockstand, and brooded about what to do.Where to go.How to save himself from the trap he only now felt closing around him.
He needed a new plan.
ChapterTen
For the next week, Lucy did not see hide nor hair of the Duke of Thornecliff.
The morning after their eventful outing to Sharpe’s, she awakened full of energy despite only having had a few hours of sleep.
She’d passed the day running races in the garden with Kitty, her head full of the way Thornecliff had held the little girl and listened to her so attentively.
It wasn’t until after she’d spent suppertime dodging questions about what she and Thornecliff had gotten up to the night before that she realized they’d parted without making any plans for their next excursion.
Understandably—she’d still been half lost in a daze of pleasure, and he’d been…she didn’t even know.He’d been quiet, in a way that seemed unlike him.
Determined to be a gentleman, she supposed, although that didn’t sound much like him either.
Or perhaps she wasn’t coming to know him as well as she’d thought.
Gabriel.
All the next day, she waited at home, expecting any moment to hear Mr.Goring announce “His Grace, the Duke of Thornecliff” was calling.Or at least a note, delivered on a silver salver, inviting her along on another evening tour of London’s darker corners.
But he didn’t come.And he didn’t send word.
Ten days later, Lucy had accepted that he wasn’t going to.
Well, perhaps “accepted” was the wrong word.Lucy wasfumingwith a potent blend of embarrassment, regret, and pure feminine pique.
Perhaps he was one of those men who only cared for the chase.She’d let him bring her to a shattering climax in the foyer of a gaming hell, and suddenly he was no longer interested in her.It happened all the time.
But that didn’t mean Lucy had to like it.
Lucy knew she ought to let it go.And maybe she could have, with a lot of resentment and secret hurt feelings, if it hadn’t been for the scandal sheets.
Because if Lucy had lost track of Thornecliff, the scandalmongers definitely had not.Every morning brought a fresh account of his dissolute doings, the parties and routs he’d attended with his entourage of admirers, the late nights at gaming hells and boxing rings and taverns.
All the places he’d promised to take Lucy.
Restless and reckless, she would’ve given anything to lay one of her breadcrumb trails for The Gentle Rogue, in the short chapter ofMidnight Ridershe finally managed to turn in.
She longed to see him, almost wanted to apologize as though she’d betrayed him by succumbing to Gabriel—Thornecliff’s—tawdry seduction.Except it was herself she’d betrayed.
And with Sir Colin Semple poking around, she was afraid to do anything that might give him a clue as to where he could hunt down his quarry.
What she’dacceptedwas that if Thornecliff wouldn’t come to her, she would damn well go to him.She would yank him out of his den of debauchery, and she would remind him of the promise he’d made.
Regardless of the fact that he’d only promised to squire her about Town to give him a chance to seduce her…and now he had.At least enough to prove that Lucy wanted him, though he hadn’t taken his own pleasure of her, and surely that was only half a seduction, at best.
Had it been that lackluster?Had he been…bored by her?Too bored to even bother finishing the seduction?
Well, too bad!He had made a promise!And if Lucy’s tried and true method of orchestrating a meeting with The Gentle Rogue was no longer safe, she needed more than ever to visit places in London where she might discover clues as to his identity.She needed to warn him about Sir Colin.
