The Maddening Lord Montwood: The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series by Lorret Vivienne

Author:Lorret, Vivienne [Lorret, Vivienne]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-07-14T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

For the following week, Lucan rarely slept. Each night, he lingered in the gallery at Whitelock’s manor, ensuring that Frances received no unwanted visitors.

He could not account for the sudden change in him—the urgent need to ensure her safety. It was different from the others he’d helped. It was in his nature, he supposed, to want to protect those who did not look out for themselves. Yet he wasn’t even certain that Frances was in danger. Nonetheless, Lucan required daily confirmation of her safety.

And perhaps part of him merely wanted to see her.

During the days, he divided his time between his friends and locating Arthur Momper’s sister. The nights were devoted to Frances. Today, however, was the village fair. With any luck, she would be there. Perhaps seeing her in the light of day wouldn’t be as tempting.

Their exchanges had been brief during the past few meetings. Lucan didn’t dare step out of the shadows as he had the first night. Seeing her in the lamplight was all the temptation he could bear. He had to keep his distance.

They spoke in whispered conversations. She would tell him about her days but merely the events. Not her own observations. He was beginning to wonder if she was starting to see cracks in the noble façade Whitelock had created. Was the surface of his flawless statue showing signs of deterioration or rot from the inside?

Standing beside him in the music room at Fallow Hall, RJ issued a grunt as if wondering the same thing. Absently, Lucan scratched the beast behind the ears, reassuring him that all would be well. “Until I have proof, I can do nothing.”

“You wear that scowl more and more often these days.”

Lucan turned away from the window to see Danvers’s bride stroll in for her daily piano lesson. Unlike him, she wore a smile that gleamed brightly within her cornflower blue eyes. It was no hardship to grin in return. “It must have been a trick of the light.”

Hedley eyed him with speculation. Having suffered in her youth as well, she knew the root of the darkness in him better than the others. And there was no deceiving her. “One would think you’d walk around gloating each day after having won your wager against my husband and Calliope’s.”

“You are all far too happy to inspire gloating. Truly, newlyweds are the worst losers.” He feigned a grumble of disgust, but in truth, he couldn’t have been happier for them. Nonetheless, he preferred to remain cautious about revealing too much of himself.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons he was drawn to Frances. She was wary of revealing herself too.

“Even Boris has noticed a change in you,” Hedley said, petting the Beast of Fallow Hall, who would always be RJ to him. “He’s been listless as well. I think perhaps he formed an attachment to Miss Thorne, and he misses her.”

Lucan eyed his friend shrewdly. “He did not form at attachment to Miss Thorne. He barely knows her.”

“He has this uncanny ability to know when the right person—”

“Hedley,” Lucan warned.

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