Deceived by a Lord (A Lord's Kiss Book 4) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Deceived by a Lord

  A Lord’s Kiss

  Book Four

  Summer Hanford

  A Scarsdale Publishing Half Hour Read

  Deceived by a Lord Book Four A Lord’s Kiss Series

  Copyright © 2017 by Summer Hanford

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: R Jackson Designs

  Cover Art: Period Images

  SP

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek at The Archaeologist’s Daughter

  Other Books in A Lord’s Kiss Series

  More books by Summer Hanford

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Tilly knew it was wrong, knew she should try to change her feelings, but she hated her older sister Prudence. The only good thing about Prudence was that she’d married a year and a half ago and her husband, Lord Erwin, had decided she should spend time overseeing charitable works around his country seat. The day Lord Erwin had Prudence carted off to the country was the happiest of Tilly’s life.

  No more Prudence being prettier, blonder, less freckled, and better at every task put before her. No more Prudence to sabotage Tilly’s happiness and mock her every decision. No more Prudence at all, except in letters Tilly didn’t read.

  Until now. In celebration of Tilly’s coming out, Prudence had returned to London. For a month. Which ought to give her plenty of opportunity to ruin the most important event in Tilly’s life. Not that she hadn’t already. In view of Prudence’s cruel treatment of just about every young lady in London, no one trusted Tilly enough to befriend her.

  Midmorning sunlight bathed the small parlor in which Tilly sat with her mother, Prudence and their elderly neighbor, Missus Clarke. While they chatted, Tilly waged an internal battle not to glare at her sister over the top of the tiered dessert platter. Prudence acknowledged her forbearance with smug glances.

  Already, with Prudence in the room, Tilly was once more invisible. Their mother lavished attention on Prudence, her better-loved daughter. Tilly could have stood from the stiff settee and walked out of the room without her actions being noted. She could have gotten away with glaring, except that Prudence would turn their mother’s attention Tilly’s way the moment she let her bland expression falter.

  “Of course, I would wish to remain longer than a month, except for the attentions of my husband,” Prudence said in a dramatic whisper, just loud enough for Tilly to hear. “We aren’t together often, I know, but when we are, he lavishes me with affection. He quite wears me out.” She arched a delicate eyebrow.

  “So, all is well on that front?” their mother asked. “I don’t mean to pry, dear, but I have worried.”

  “There’s no need to fret, Mama.” Prudence adopted a haughty look. “I know how to manage a man.”

  “Oh, I do worry, too, dear,” Missus Clarke said. “He’s seen so often in the park in the company of that—”

  “Ah hem,” Mother cleared her throat, her expression warning as she nodded in Tilly’s direction.

  Apparently, Tilly had been remembered just in time to keep her from learning anything of interest.

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Missus Clarke said. She smoothed her grey skirts and turned a frown upon Tilly. “I all but forgot you’re here, child. Why don’t you speak up on occasion? How will you ever learn to socialize?”

  Tilly set down her teacup, eager for the chance to speak. “In the company of whom? Whose company is Lord Erwin in?”

  “Don’t interrupt, Tilly,” Mother snapped.

  “Really, Tilly.” Prudence looked down her nose, a talent she’d mastered even though her stature forced her to look up to nearly everyone. “There are three married women here, and you are a not-quite-out miss. In such company, you should only speak when spoken to. I’d hoped to find your manners more improved in the months since my wedding.” She turned to their mother, letting out a sigh. “I’m so sorry for you, Mama, that you must labor against Tilly’s poor manners.”

  “She is a chore after you, dear, but she’ll improve with a little sternness.”

  “Now, now,” Missus Clarke said, “I think Tilly is quite lovely.”

  Tilly glared at her sister and picked up her teacup. Missus Clarke had spoken to her, and she wanted to know who her brother-by-marriage was going about the park with. Someone scandalous, if the white lines around Prudence’s mouth were any indication. She always clenched her smile when she was angry.

  “Mama, is this a new tea service?” Prudence asked brightly.

  Tilly let her mind wander as the three discussed fine china. She would never admit the fact, but she’d be hard pressed to pick Lord Erwin out of a group of gentlemen. She’d only seen him once, the day of Prudence’s and his wedding. She recalled he wasn’t very tall, or very comely, but his garments seemed expensive. Given how rarely her sister saw him, Tilly wondered if Prudence knew much more about him than she did.

  Taking another sip of tea, Tilly let her gaze wander past the three women to the window. The roses that climbed beside the leaded panes bobbed in a gentle breeze, petals bright against the blue sky and dark leaves without. Her gaze went beyond the roses to the garden swing that hung from a looming oak.

  Without Prudence there to tease her for being a child, Tilly loved to swing in the warm sun. It was invigorating, how the world rushed past, then back again. She imagined the sensation was like what a gentleman experienced when riding a horse. Though she couldn’t know, for she was made to ride sidesaddle at a walk.

  She brought her attention back to the tea setting, thoroughly bored. The three married women had their heads together now, whispering advice on how to keep a man’s attention where it belonged. Try as she might, she could only make out a few words murmured on the other side of the low table.

  “I said I have it in hand,” Prudence snapped, her angry tone rising above the whispers.

  Mother and Missus Clarke straightened. They exchanged a startled look. Missus Clarke shrugged.

  “Of course you do, dear,” Mother said. She helped herself to another sandwich.

  “Speaking of a wandering eye.” Missus Clarke reached for a slice of cake. “Your new neighbor, Lord James, has been in London for over a month now. Have you seen him? They say he’s even more handsome than reputed.”

  Tilly frowned. How could someone be rumored to be more handsome than they were rumored? She bit her tongue, knowing the reprimand such a question would bring.

  Prudence gave a disdainful sniff. “I spoke with him at the theatre last evening. Duke or not, he’s a rake. It’s a pity the old duke hadn’t a proper heir. Now we must
all suffer a cad to take the title. Between us, we among the peerage are not overjoyed.”

  Tilly took another sip of tea to keep from rolling her eyes. Yes, Prudence was married to a baron and now wore gaudy, jewel spattered gowns, but that did not put her on level with a duke. Tilly was a bit jealous her sister had met Lord James, though. Their London homes shared a garden wall, but she had yet to set eyes on him. Prudence had not only seen him, but had been introduced.

  “Was he handsome, though, dear?” Missus Clarke asked.

  Prudence shrugged. “If you care for that sort of overdone, devil-may-care look and unfashionably dark attire. My Erwin would never be caught in anything so drab.” Prudence angled her nose farther into the air. “I’ll tell you one thing about him, he was quite rude.”

  Tilly sighed. There was another person who’d met Prudence before her. Another who would dislike Tilly by association.

  “Tilly, what did I tell you about sighing in company?” her mother snapped.

  Tilly blinked. Now she was noticed again? “Not to.”

  “That is correct.” Mother offered one of her more formidable frowns. “You can’t make proper conversation. You speak without being spoken to. Now, you have sighed. I think you must excuse yourself and go to your room. It’s time for you to consult your etiquette handbook once more. After Missus Clarke leaves, I shall examine you on it.”

  Tilly set down her tea and bounced to her feet in a rustle of rose-colored muslin. Finally, she was excused.

  “Oh no, Mama, I know you have more important concerns,” Prudence said. She cast Tilly a vindictive smirk. “I will examine Tilly on her manners.”

  Mother smiled at Prudence. “Thank you, dear. It a blessing to have a considerate daughter in the house again.” She turned back to Tilly with a shooing gesture. “Run along now, Tilly.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Tilly curtsied to Missus Clarke, who offered a grave nod. Ignoring Prudence’s smug expression, Tilly marched from the parlor.

  Chapter Two

  Tilly did not go to her room. It wasn’t as if her mother would check, after all. She may not even recall the command. Prudence surely would, but studying the etiquette handbook wouldn’t be of any use. Tilly already knew the book back to front. Prudence did as well, and would make up questions and situations that were impossible to resolve.

  Taking advantage of her freedom, Tilly headed out into the garden. She forwent a shawl or bonnet. She knew the sun would bring out the freckles across her nose, but to confront a beautiful day swaddled like a porcelain figurine was criminal. All those layers of fabric ruined the enjoyment of being outdoors.

  After a reassuring glance through the parlor window at the backs of the three women’s heads, Tilly strode to the dappled sunlight under the great oak. She settled on the swing and kicked off, then pumped her legs until she’d worked up momentum. Green grass rushed past. Wind whipped her brown curls back from her face. She leaned back, hands clutching the ropes, and watched the tree branches speed by above.

  Unlike most days, the freedom of the swing didn’t conjure a smile. Not with her sister home. For a short while, Tilly’s curtsey had been good enough, her manners acceptable. Mother had taken her to be fitted for three new gowns, the first ones she’d ever owned that were not hand-me-downs. To have dresses that hadn’t been let down at the hem and taken in on top, a constant reminder that she was a second-rate daughter and a beanpole to Prudence’s petite, womanly figure, made Tilly feel pretty.

  “Why the frown, sweetling?” a man asked, voice warm and smooth. “Has your smile failed to get you the attention you want?”

  Tilly let out a squeak, scaring several roosting birds into flight. She dug her heels into the ground to halt her swing, likely ruining her slippers. Her gaze caught on a tall, startlingly handsome gentleman to her right. He leaned against the wall separating their garden from the duke’s, heedless of his fine garments pressed against the rough stone.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. Not good manners, she knew, but neither was sneaking into a garden. She glanced toward the house, wondering if she should call for help.

  “I beg your pardon for my rudeness.” He straightened from the wall and executed a flawless bow. “Permit me to introduce myself, as no one is here to do me the honor. I’m Lord James, your neighbor.”

  Her pulse jumped. He really was more handsome than rumors claimed, and his eyes were as blue as the summer sky. “I’m Tilly.”

  “Just Tilly?” He strolled nearer with an ease that belied both the scandal of their isolation and the fact that he hadn’t been invited.

  “That is, Miss Matilda Philmont,” she corrected. She grimaced. Tilly hated her name. Not even Prudence dared call her by it. The last time she had, Tilly upended an entire pot of tea on her, ruining the carpet that used to be in the parlor.

  Lord James flashed white teeth in a wicked grin. “I see. Tilly it is, then.”

  “Miss Philmont, if you please.” What had possessed her to give her Christian name to a known rake?

  Lord James circled her in a lazy saunter. His gaze raked her in a way that conjured a blush. She craned her neck to follow him, leery to let him leave her sight. After a complete circle, he finally stopped behind her. His hands grasped the ropes of the swing just above hers, touching her thumbs. She yanked her hands away.

  “What are you doing?” She snapped her head back around so she faced the house, not his broad chest.

  “Giving you a push. I interrupted your swinging.” His hands left the swing and settled against her back. “Although, I think this will work better.”

  “No thank you.” She jumped off the swing and turned to glare at him. Her back felt scalded where he’d touched her. “How did you get into our garden?”

  “I climbed over the wall,” he said. “Isn’t that how gentlemen usually get in?”

  “Gentlemen usually don’t.” She took a step backward toward the house.

  “So I’ve noticed.” He looked her up and down. “I’ve watched you on this swing nearly every afternoon for a month, and seen nary a gentleman.”

  Tilly gasped. “You’ve been watching me?” Outrage outweighed fear of his presence. How dare he spy into her family’s garden?

  He nodded over her left shoulder toward his home. “I have indeed. I sit in my study and, instead of working, I turn my chair toward the window, pour a drink, and watch you swing.” He pushed the swing out of the way as he spoke and stopped in front of her. “As my uncle left the books a mess, it’s by far the most pleasant hour of my day.”

  Tilly craned her neck to look over her shoulder and caught sight of the large windows of what must be his study, the curtains tied back. “That’s…despicable. You have no right to watch me.” For once, Prudence was correct. The man was a fiend.

  “If you don’t wish to be watched, try having less shapely legs.” He grinned down at her. The soft breeze ruffled his dark hair.

  Tilly’s face heated. “You’ve been looking at my legs?”

  “It would be impossible not to.” He leaned closer. One long-fingered hand neared her cheek.

  She slapped him. Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise, an identical expression mirrored on his face. She hadn’t meant to strike him.

  He rubbed his cheek, ruddy from the force of the blow. A line formed on his smooth brow. He again looked her up and down, but in an assessing, not leering, sort of way.

  Tilly watched him wide-eyed, with no notion what to do or say. She’d just hit a duke. Should she apologize? He certainly should.

  “You really didn’t know I was watching you?” he finally asked, his tone altogether different.

  Tilly narrowed her eyes. This kinder voice was not to be trusted. She dropped her hand from her mouth. “Certainly not. I wouldn’t have been on the swing if I had.” Nor would she be out again. She spared the swing a sad glance.

  He frowned in confusion. “But, last evening, when I met your sister, she said you’ve been out here every day, flaunting yourself in ord
er to seduce me.”

  Tilly spun toward the window. To her relief, three heads still appeared above the sofa back. “Prudence,” she muttered. She turned back to Lord James. “If you’d attended London before now, you would be familiar with my sister. She makes it her mission to sow turmoil.”

  Uncertainty filled his face, making him appear younger, less supercilious and somehow even more attractive. “I didn’t know.” He rubbed his jaw, where her handprint had faded. “You’re sure you’re not a title-grubbing seductress?”

  Tilly rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”

  Lord James cleared his throat. His expression became pained. “I very much owe you an apology, Miss Philmont.” He grimaced ruefully. “This is not how I pictured our first meeting.”

  He’d imagined them meeting? With the way he’d behaved, she did not want to know how that imagining went. She stared at him for a long moment and tried to look past how handsome he was to read his face. He did look young, and very sorry.

  She relented. “As you are new to London and aren’t familiar with my sister, I accept your apology.”

  “Thank you.” He executed a deep bow.

  Tilly took in the grace and strength of his movements and bit her lip. “Have you really been watching me?”

  He angled his face toward the grass. “I wouldn’t admit to it, except I already have.” Deep blue eyes glanced at her through dark lashes. “I’m a fool. I should have known better than to trust anyone as snooty as your sister, or that stuffy git, Erwin.”

  Tilly put her hand to her mouth again, stifling a giggle.

  “And now I’ve gone and insulted your family.” He gave his head a shake, his expression bemused. “I’m certainly doing a masterful job of creating a good first impression.”

  Tilly pulled her hand away from her mouth and smiled. “My sister is snooty, and I imagine Lord Erwin’s been called far worse than a git, from what I’ve heard about him.”

  “Heard?” He raised dark brows in inquiry.