The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

“Is that your way of asking if I will?” Mackenzie replied with a hearty chuckle. “Because if it’s all the same, I’d rather keep my fingers.” A collective gasp left the Scot stuttering. “What I … what I mean is your husband will chop off every digit if he thinks I’ve made him a cuckold.”

“I reckon he’d chop off more than your fingers,” Mr Brown called back over his shoulder.

Everyone laughed until they cried. Lillian could not remember the last time she had raised more than a smile. She’d been at the castle for less than a day, and yet these wonderful, honest people had found a way into her heart.

She sat on the plush cushion, a grin stretching from ear to ear, until the sight of the church in the distance sent her nerves scattering like leaves in a storm. The quaint stone building was a solid reminder of all she’d promised. Not love or companionship, just her assistance.

Panic flared.

She should turn back, find a boat and row for the mainland. But her

lonely life in London was a poor one indeed. And she needed to set Vane free for him to have any chance of happiness.

“I’ll help you down, my lady, and then I’ll go inside and see if they’re ready.” Mackenzie’s words broke her reverie.

Lillian forced a smile and was grateful for the Scot’s firm grip, as her knees almost buckled when her feet touched the ground. “Thank you, Mackenzie. Thank you for everything.”

The man bent his head and whispered, “You’re welcome, lass.”

Mackenzie strode off up the narrow path leading to the church’s open door. The women gathered around Lillian, excitement palpable in the air.

Mackenzie returned, his lips drawn thin beneath his beard.

“What is it?” Lillian’s heart skipped a beat. “Is the minister here?”

“Aye, the minister is inside, along with some of his lordship’s men.” Mackenzie exhaled deeply as he narrowed his gaze and scanned the coastal heathland.

One did not need to be skilled at reading minds to understand the problem. “Lord Ravenscroft is not here, is he?” Disappointment surfaced. Fabian had not lied to her, but anyone with an ounce of kindness in their heart would have made an effort, today of all days.

Mackenzie grimaced. “He’ll be here any moment.”

“Did you check his bed?” she mocked, but then remembered that Fabian had gone riding. Part of her wanted to make excuses for him. Had he taken a tumble, sprained an ankle?

“Never fear, my lady.” Nancy placed a comforting hand on Lillian’s arm. “His lordship is likely preening himself, eager to look his best.”

Or more likely he’d arrive half-dressed, mumble his vows and disappear again.

The thud of horse’s hooves pounding the ground caught Lillian’s attention. A black stallion appeared on the brow of the hill. The beast galloped towards them, leaving a cloud of dust where its hooves struck the dirt. A silver sheen of sweat covered the animal’s coat, and its look of determination mirrored that of its master.

Mackenzie exhaled. “Lord Ravenscroft likes to make a grand entrance that’s for sure.”

Not so grand, Lillian thought, for his muscular thighs were hidden beneath the folds of his greatcoat. Dressed as he was, anyone would think he’d ridden through the damp, foggy streets of London and not along the rugged coastline on a fresh summer’s day.

Fabian came to a sliding stop before them. He gave his horse a reassuring pat before swinging down in one fluid movement.

Lillian swallowed hard as he strode towards her, dark and masterful. “How good of you to join us, my lord.”

Everyone held their breath as they watched with wide, curious eyes.

Fabian ignored them all and kept his heated gaze fixed on her. “I beg your forgiveness.” The rich tone of his voice sent her stomach skipping up to her chest. “An urgent matter commanded my attention.”

No doubt many things mattered more than marrying her.

“I pray it was important enough to make you late on your wedding day.”

The corners of his mouth curled into a half smile rather than down with shame. “You may judge for yourself.”

He marched back to his horse, and the women took the opportunity to breathe. After reaching into his saddlebag, he returned with a small posy of flowers.