Page 33 of The Misfortune of Lady Lucianna

“That is highly insulting.” Luci retorted. Never did she want to be her father—nor her mother, for that matter, but especially not her father. “The marquis is ruthless in business and merciless with his kin. He knows not the meaning of empathy or compassion. I would hope that is not the way you see me.”

Despite all her agitated bluster, he only gave her a toothy grin and chuckled. The odd smile should have added a comical air to his appearance, but it only confirmed that there was a part of him Luci was unaware of.

But if she found out, what would that mean for her determination to see all unsavory men exposed and scandalized?

“While I know my status as an honorable lord has been called into question recently, I have not fallen so far as to think it acceptable or appropriate to insinuate that a woman is lacking in any way. I assure you of that, my lady.” He sobered quickly at her narrowed glare and held up his hands, warding her off. “By formidable, I only meant undaunted by circumstance.”

Her chest tightened at his words. That could only be taken as a compliment.

“May I ask you a question?” He sat forward, her answer seeming to hold immense weight. When she nodded, he continued. “Would it be improper to ask you to accompany me on a stroll down the lane? I find myself thinking you have many questions you wish to ask, and I cannot think to remain in this heated carriage overlong. I believe a spot of fresh air would do us both a lot of good.”

Some time outside, still a private walk, but without the overwhelming urge to place her lips against his once more did sound wise.

She’d never been one to wilt into the arms of a man—especially one with a sordid past.

Admittedly, a disreputable past she had exposed…and was by the minute seeming unlikely for the man she’d come to know during their excursion to the bookshop. But how could she have misjudged him? He was at the opera with a woman who was not his betrothed. What explanation could there be for his action other than a scandalous one? Still, she had the feeling she’d been wrong about him.

“I think I would enjoy a stroll, Your Grace.” Roderick, she thought to herself. Forever in her mind he would be Roderick. Not Your Grace, and certainly not the Duke of Montrose. “You are correct in assuming I have many things I’d like to discuss with you.”

And many apologies to offer, though a mere spoken act of contrition could never repair the damage she’d done by posting the article in the Gazette. She’d still been grieving the loss of Tilda, wrecked with guilt over her passing. Bloody hell, she would forever be plagued by remorse at her dear friend’s death; however, she could still attempt to make amends with Roderick.

Though he had every right to rebuff her.

He leapt from the carriage and held his hand out to assist her down. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Luci couldn’t stop from smiling at his gallant behavior.

She nodded to the footman when Roderick tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her back down the drive to the street beyond. There were no horses or carriages stirring up dust. No gardeners lingered in the yards of neighboring townhouses. It was as if they hadn’t left the privacy of the Montrose carriage at all—until Luci noticed her maid, Charlotte, trailing at a discreet distance.

All thoughts of dragging Roderick behind the nearest shrub and imploring him to kiss her fled as they settled into a slow, steady walk. Besides her friends, Luci had never experienced such easy companionship. She watched over her younger siblings, but they were just that, brothers and sisters, not confidantes. She was their guiding light, and she struggled every day to search deep within to keep that light shining.

She had to be strong in every sense, or she feared turning into her mother; a woman so battered and beaten by years of neglect and harsh words she’d given up the fight. It was a pity Lady Camden, Eloise Constantine, once the daring, mysterious debutante had lost every ounce of fight within her.

That was not to be Luci’s fate.

Her shoulders stiffened with resolve.

Never would she allow a man, any man, to bring her to such a low point. No matter if it were her father, a suitor, or the gentleman she pledged to serve for all her days.

But here, with Roderick, she could just be. Walk at her own pace. Remain silent if she so desired. There was no need for her to take control, lead the way, or carve a path.

She almost let slip from her mind the many nagging questions she had for him, in favor of simply enjoying this rare moment of ease. The late afternoon breeze pulled at her pinned hair, desperate to free it. The sun heated her skin, raining comforting kisses of warmth along her neck. A matching set of collared doves chirped and cooed from a tall tree as they strolled past. Roderick’s hold on her arm tightened, tugging her closer to his side as if the breeze would blow her out of his reach, or the sun would scorch her delicate skin, or the birds would draw her attention too far from him.

In that brief moment, Luci was wanted. Cherished. Adored. She was worth more than her role as her father’s bartering chip. Her sibling’s protector. Her mother’s champion. And Tilda’s voice from beyond.

She was Roderick’s prize. He was her protector. He would champion for her future. And he would supply voice when hers could not long speak loud enough to be heard.

Yet, he was still, in almost every way, a stranger.

It was nearly impossible to grasp that a man could stumble into her life and usurp her every thought. Make her long for things she hadn’t wanted since her innocence had been shattered.

Since departing the coach, Luci had yet to dwell on their coming visit to Abercorn’s townhouse. The overwhelming pressure to prove the man’s guilt before all of society did not seem as all-consuming as a few hours before. No longer did she worry about Abercorn being the victor for her hand. Roderick, her defender, would never allow it.

He’d said as much, and she believed him with every ounce of her being.

She sighed.

“Do you wish to return home, my lady?” he asked, tentatively.