Delightfully Dangerous (Knights Without Armor Book 1) Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

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  Copyright © 2018 by Marly Mathews

  www.marlymathews.com

  Editor: Raelene Gorlinsky

  Cover Design: The Killion Group, Inc.

  Formatting: Dallas Hodge, Everything But The Book

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  London, England, 1825

  ichard Lovett, 9th Earl of Tisbury, had just suffered through a most vexing evening. He now sat quite comfortably on a stone bench in the back gardens of Maidstone House in London. Lord and Lady Everley had retired for the night. The evening party had gone on into the wee hours of the morning, and dawn would soon be streaking across the sky.

  Thoughts of the Marquess of Everley’s youngest sister, Lady Lydia Radcliff, plagued his every waking hour. She had become an intoxicating spirit, one who had a stronger effect on him than the drink ever could. Wryly, he stared into his empty glass, and frowned at the empty decanter that sat on the bench beside him.

  The lovely Lady Lydia. The King had taken it into his Royal consideration that had Lydia’s father lived he would have succeeded to the title of Earl of Warminster, which had instead gone to his son Micah Radcliff who had then been given the title Marquess of Everley for services to the Crown during the wars against Napoleon Bonaparte. Because of the fact that her father would have been the earl, she and her sisters should henceforth have and hold and enjoy the same title and place in society as if their father had survived and held the peerage. Therefore the declaration was officially made through Royal Warrant of Precedence and Lydia was no longer Miss Lydia Radcliff, she had been elevated to Lady Lydia Radcliff and held all of the dignity and rights as the daughter of an earl. As for Mrs. Euphemia Radcliff, she had been created 1st Baroness Holt. Some said she’d been entitled because of the charity she and James Radcliff had founded, having gained patronage from the royal household, but Richard knew better. She had long been an object of affection for Prinny, a jewel in his crown that he’d never been able to possess, though some gossips whispered otherwise. Richard, for his part, could never imagine Euphemia Radcliff being any man’s mistress, prince, king or candlestick maker, she’d been completely devoted to her husband, and quite honestly, he didn’t know why anyone would want her.

  His gut twisted. Lydia was lost to him, and no more had that been made apparent than tonight. She had given him quite the cold shoulder and had decided to speak to him only if prompted, which had displeased her brother Micah considerably.

  Was that why he lingered? He knew where her bedchamber was located in the house, and had considered making his way to it on more than one occasion. Scandalous though it was, the one simple action would achieve his goal. His presence, if discovered, would thoroughly ruin her, and she would be obliged to marry him.

  The sound of something or someone rustling in the shrubbery close to the house caught his attention. Standing up, he set aside the empty decanter and his glass, and carefully turned to face whatever would emerge from the bushes. His curiosity had been properly piqued. He expected to see a rabbit or perhaps even a fox. Instead, the figure that appeared quite stole his breath.

  Dressed in garb that was about three decades out of fashion, with a brown wig topping her head, and a cocked hat that looked quite ridiculous on her, Lydia sighed, and boldly met his gaze. There were a few torches still alight in the garden, which had been lit for the guests earlier. They shed a little light on an otherwise dark night.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said flatly, continuing to walk toward him. There was a purpose to her step, and her eyes were bright with enthusiasm. She was off for some merrymaking to be sure.

  “That’s all you have to say for yourself?” He stepped in her path, blocking her from whatever she intended. If she believed she was going to leave this estate wearing such a ridiculous disguise, she was quite mistaken. Not while he was around!

  “Pray, move, sir.”

  “No.”

  “You, sir, are being most vexing.” She formed her lips into a pout, and he resisted the urge to claim them with his own.

  “I know,” he said, attempting not to laugh at the absurdity of their current situation. The brandy was having a liberating effect on him. He felt giddy, and quite carefree, but he wasn’t foxed enough to do anything rash. “Where…how did you leave the house?”

  She looked at him as if he was quite mad, and…dear God, did she just roll her eyes at him? Cheeky little chit!

  “I came by way of a passage out of the house, and through the door, that is just over there.” She pointed from whence she had come.

  “A passage?”

  He now noticed the dust on her outfit, and quickly brushed a cobweb and a spider from her embroidered coat. She shuddered slightly as his hand connected with her body.

  “This wasn’t by chance a secret passageway, was it?” he asked slowly, perhaps the alcohol he’d imbibed had dimmed his wits a bit.

  “It might have been,” she admitted ruefully. “But I fear it is no longer a secret as you have quite found me out.” The challenging stare she served him with, caught him off guard. Her attitude toward him as of late, had been brusque, and now, there was a bit of a rebellious nature rearing its ugly head. He rather liked this side of her, liked it and at the same time, he feared it. Lydia was by nature a tomboy. She’d always possessed a reckless streak; if she had now acquired a rebellious streak, they were all in for a bit of trouble.

  “And where do you think you are off to?”

  “That’s none of your concern, sir,” she said, attempting to push past him.

  “Oh, but it is.” His voiced dropped an octave, and she must have noticed it, for her eyebrows shot up in surprise, and her eyes, well, she looked a little rattled now.

  “Pray, let me pass, sir.” Her beseeching tone would have ordinarily made him want to do her bidding, but this was no ordinary situation they found themselves in.

  “You shall remain here under your brother’s protection. As for your brother, I’m surprised he’s not already out here, having discovered your duplicitous act. I cannot believe you could sneak out of his house unnoticed. Do you honestly think you are convincing in that shabby disguise? A footpad would see through it quickly enough. Anyone with an ounce of intelligence would see through it.” He realized too late how cutti
ng his words might seem.

  Hurt briefly danced in her piercingly beautiful dark blue eyes. “I found the clothes in a trunk in the attic, and they only needed to be slightly altered for me to wear them. I did it all myself.” She emphasized her words spoken with pride, by jutting her chin out. Her beautiful chin, he wanted to kiss it, and then kiss it again, and once he’d paid it enough attention, he wanted to claim her lips and then, then, he wanted so much more.

  “I think you should have left them in the trunk.” He snorted rather too indelicately for her liking. “At least you look like you’re from the last century. If you looked like a Cavalier, I’m afraid I couldn’t be seen in public with you. Again, I ask, where are you off to? Do you seek to go to a gaming hell, or…”

  “I intend to hire a carriage to take me to a…”

  “Oh, heavens above, you’re not going to fight a duel, are you?”

  “No,” she confessed a little too quickly. “Why would you think that? Even I know women aren’t supposed to fight duels—it is just not done.”

  “Don’t give it a second thought. Continue. I’m already alarmed that you intended to hire a carriage. Once you tell me more, I feel quite certain I shall be about to have an apoplectic fit.”

  “How utterly droll of you.”

  “I do try to be amusing.” He smiled and gave her a dramatic bow. She returned his smile, and then seemed to catch herself, as she flattened her lips together.

  “If you shall not move, then, so be it on your head.” She fell silent, and kicked him in the shin.

  “Blast and damn, Lydia, what did you do that for?” he growled, recovering himself quickly enough to whirl about and grab her around the waist, lifting her clear off the ground. She made to scream, as a slight screech passed her lips, and then stifled it, realizing that such a call of distress would raise the alarm within her brother’s grand townhouse. “If I put you down, will you endeavor to act like a civilized, proper young lady?”

  “Yes,” she said, a bit breathlessly.

  “I don’t believe you. You who are like a pocket Amazon. My beautiful virago.”

  “How dare you!”

  “I do dare, my dear. I rather think as soon as those handy fists of yours are free, you shall try to punch me.”

  “I won’t,” she said, a little less convincingly than she’d said yes.

  “Say it with conviction, sweetheart.” The endearment rolled past his lip, making her stiffen in his arms.

  “I am not your sweetheart, sir. I am not anyone’s sweetheart.” Now that statement, he believed. She spoke with such fierceness it made a shiver pass up and down his spine. She grunted, continuing to struggle like a hellcat in his arms. She was almost more trouble than she was worth. Almost.

  There was once a time where she was absolutely mad about him. And he’d squandered his chances. He sighed, feeling as if she’d punched him in the gut.

  “If you don’t place me back on my feet by the time I count to ten, I shall scream my lungs out, and then you can explain to my brother why you are holding me so intimately, and why I am dressed like this, and why I am sneaking out at such an ungodly hour. I shall say it’s because you bid me to do it. You shall learn quite quickly that I am most skilled at laying the blame at your door.”

  He groaned, and released her, quickly placing himself to block her path once again.

  “You are a vicious little brat.”

  “I prefer chit, or hoyden, sir.” Was that pride in her voice?

  “You are a pain in the arse, that’s what you bloody are. And you are certainly a proper little Moonraker.” The Moonraker bit hadn’t been meant as an insult, but her eyes filled with dancing blue fury.

  Legend had it in Wiltshire that locals were attempting to retrieve smuggled French brandy from a pond on a glorious moonlit night. When the revenue men happened by, they told them they were raking the pond for cheese. Thinking them fools, the revenue men left them alone. There were many variants on the story, but this was the version Richard liked to believe. It made them seem quite clever to feign ignorance to achieve their own objectives. Much like Richard had been wont to do from time to time.

  “Are you calling me a fool, Lord Tisbury?”

  “No…I…you are a Moonraker, just as I am, just as we both are.”

  “And you are a, sir, are a…you are a…popinjay!”

  “That’s the best insult you could come up with?”

  “I tire of you.” She turned away from him. He caught her by her arm, and pulled her to him. Of course, now he was the one courting scandal. Should anyone spy them in such an embrace, it would be his reputation that would be compromised. Gossip would spread that he took men as lovers, and frequented Molly-houses. “Should you like to steal a kiss, my lord?” she asked brazenly, intentionally baiting him. She closed her eyes and puckered up her lips. She didn’t realize what sort of dangerous territory she had willingly wandered into. He was a fox, and he had his darling vixen in his arms.

  Was he even a trifle disguised? He couldn’t say. All he knew was that he’d consumed enough brandy to make him feel as if he could do anything, so he did. He lowered his lips to hers, and gave her a kiss she wouldn’t soon forget.

  utterflies swarmed in Lydia’s stomach.

  Richard’s kiss had left her a little weak in the knees. Struggling to muster her composure, she sighed; the feeling of his lips against hers lingered. Now, she felt as if she’d over imbibed on the spirits. Shame spread through her, warming her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Shame that she’d enjoyed his attentions so much, and shame that she had to rely on his support to keep from falling into a puddle on the ground.

  “You never told me where you were going,” he said, his warm breath caressing the nape of her neck.

  “That’s because I didn’t want you to know.”

  “Wherever you go, I go. I shan’t allow you to leave these grounds without me.”

  Now she had two protectors, her brother and Lord Tisbury, and she didn’t need to be encumbered by another protector. One was quite enough. “I do not think you would care for the company, my lord. The crowd shall be large and rather ribald and some of the members shall be from a lower class, and they might be, well, quite frowzy. I don’t know if your delicate constitution will be able to handle that sort of—well, your mother might call them rabble.” Would he react badly to her insult? She didn’t really think he had a delicate constitution but some of the other lords and gentlemen in the ton did believe he was a bit of a milksop.

  “I want you to desist in these games of yours, Lydia. Give me the answers I seek, now.”

  He emphasized the word, now. The authority in his voice made a delicious little thrill go through her. Lord Tisbury was usually such an affable amiable fellow, that his sudden conjuring of a spine quite excited her. Still, she had to hide just how much he delighted her.

  “Fine. If you must know, I am going to watch a boxing match.” She said it as calmly as she would tell him she was going for a casual ride in Hyde Park during the fashionable hours.

  The incredulous stare he gave her actually made her feel a trifle uneasy. He hadn’t blinked once, and that in itself was unsettling, and his left eye looked as if it were twitching. Was he going to start rowing with her, or would he finally drag her back into the townhouse, call down her brother and make her account for her actions thus far, so her brother could in turn read her the riot act?

  “Why?” he finally asked, working his jaw as if he had to actually force the word out.

  “Because I enjoy the sport.”

  “Because you enjoy the sport?” Now he was getting angry. “A proper lady like yourself shouldn’t be partaking in such…”

  “Ladies are sometimes encouraged to practice pugilism, but they aren’t allowed to watch it? That makes absolutely no sense, sir.”

  “Whether or not it makes sense to you, makes no difference, Lydia. You are not going. I forbid it. Those fights are not safe for polite, gently bred young
ladies such as yourself. It isn’t safe, and it’s quite unseemly. You shall remain right where you are.”

  Did he mean at her brother’s townhouse, or did he mean with him? It was all rather confusing and more than a little intoxicating.

  “I shall go, and you cannot stop me, Lord Tisbury.”

  “Oh, is that what you think?”

  Something dangerous glittered in his eyes, something that made her want to do a fast retreat. “You are only ringing a fine peal over me because I am going unchaperoned, and you do not like the disguise I picked out for myself.”

  “That’s because I prefer seeing you in lovely frocks, and I rather like to think of you as an innocent young maiden who wouldn’t entertain such scandalous thoughts.”

  “Just those scandalous thoughts or all scandalous thoughts? I rather think you’d like to do some more improper things with me.”

  “Now, my dear, you are walking a path fraught with peril. Do you not understand how much danger you court when you go alone to those events?”

  “There is only one way this can end. You shall simply have to accompany me.”

  “And how shall I accompany you? There is a fairly good chance people at that match will recognize me, and they might even recognize you.”

  “They haven’t seen through my disguise before.”

  His mouth gaped open. The eyes she used to lose herself in hardened, and narrowed to thin slits. “Before?” Now his voice was definitely agitated, and he looked as if he wanted to shake her. “How many times have you snuck out like a thief in the night?”

  “Thieves sneak in, they do not sneak out, sir.”

  “They sneak in and then they sneak out again. Don’t try to talk me into circles, Lydia.”