Page 15 of Once a Scoundrel

Chapter Four

Beneath the afternoon sunshine, Faith removed her bonnet and dangled it by its ties at her side as she ambled down the lane.

Oh, how glad she was that she’d decided to go for a walk! This was so much better than staying inside the house with the ladies, doing needlework or watercolors. She also didn’t think she’d be able to tolerate the fresh gossip that was certain to arise among them, especially with the men spending the day away fishing.

She deeply breathed in the fresh air and smiled at the birds chirping from the trees lining the short stone wall. Ah, peace and quiet. A God send. Especially after last night.

She thought she’d been prepared to see Stephen again. After four years, she thought her silly heart had learned its lesson and hardened just enough to be immune to his grins and charms. That having discovered the hard way the dangers of losing one’s heart to the wrong man she would know better than to put herself into harm’s way again with that smooth-tongued devil.

Apparently not. Because he was all she’d been able to think about during the long sleepless night she spent pacing in her bedroom. How he’d said he’d missed her. How he’d asked her to forgive him. How he wanted to friends again.

Friends?Ha! She’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d tried to kiss her, and it certainly wasn’t friendship that lingered there.

He’d said he’d changed, but had he really? Oh, he’d grown fully into manhood.Thatmuch was clear with every glance. It was also tantalizingly obvious beneath her hands when they’d rested against the hard muscles of his shoulders. Yet the changes weren’t only physical. A sobriety lingered in him that hadn’t been there before.

But the same empty flattery and compliments, the same taking of convenient kisses...Had he truly changed from the self-centered young man he’d been, when he’d cared for no one and nothing but his own selfish desires? If she let him back into her heart and he hadn’t changed, how would she ever recover if he wounded her again? He’d sliced open her heart the first time. A second might shatter it irreparably.

A howl pierced the quiet, followed by sharp curses and the sound of a hard object hitting a soft one. Another heartbreaking howl—

Faith ran.

Ahead in the road, a large stranger held a shaggy wolfhound by the scruff of his neck and beat at it with a club. The dog’s eyes were wide with fear, its tail tucked between its legs. It struggled to break free as the club struck brutally against its head. A bone-chilling howl of pain tore from its throat.

Faith made a diving grab for the hound just as the man raised his arm to strike again. “Leave that dog alone!”

The man hesitated in his swing when she threw her arms around the dog’s neck. Then he let out a violent curse that set the animal into a fit of snarling barks. “That damn cur tried to bite me!”

“That’s no reason to beat him!” she defended, sliding as much of her body between the man and the wolfhound as possible. If the brute wanted to hurt an innocent creature, then he’d have to go through her to do it! “He thought you were trying to hurt him.”

“I’ll sure as hell hurt him now!”

The man grabbed her arm and yanked hard to pull her away from the dog, who instantly began to snarl and snap at the man. He kicked at the hound, and the animal latched onto his leg, sinking its teeth into his calf.

With a curse, he viciously kicked the dog loose. He swung the club again, just barely missing Faith’s head. So close she felt the whoosh of air against her cheek.

A gunshot split the air.

The man spun around in surprise, his hand clamped tightly over the club and holding it above his head, ready to strike. He stepped back just far enough for Faith to see—

Stephen.

He sat on his horse in the middle of the lane, with one arm raised into the air and a trail of smoke curling from the end of the spent pistol in his hand. His face remained hard and emotionless, and Faith shivered. She’d never seen him looking so fierce before. So deadly.

“The lady said to leave the dog alone,” he said calmly, his deep voice coldly controlled. “So if I were you, I’d release her.” He slowly raised a second pistol in his other hand and pointed it at the man’s chest. “And step away.”

The man shoved her to the ground beside the dog, who immediately darted between her and the stranger to protect her. The hair along its back stood on end as a low, threatening snarl emanated from between its bared teeth.

“Damned bitch!” The man tossed the club down at her feet and then spat at the ground. “As worthless as that mangy cur.”

White-hot rage flickered in Stephen’s eyes, but he calmly kept the pistol pointed at the man. “You’re a stranger to this area.”

“That’s none of your goddamned bus—”

“Or you would know that she is Lady Faith Westover, daughter of the Duke of Strathmore.”

The man’s red face paled to white.

“Who will surely set you swinging by the neck for touching her.”