Twice Tempted by a Rogue (Stud Club #2)

Rhys sighed and turned his head to the window. The carriage had turned off the coastal lane, and he caught one last glimpse of the dramatic Cornish cliffs as they began the gentle climb back to the main road. Gravity tugged on him as they made their way up the grade, and he slipped toward the edge of the rear-facing seat. He propped one boot on the opposite bench, bracing himself. “It’s not a matter of whether I want to go back. It’s a matter of what’s best for everyone.”


“Exactly,” Bellamy said. “Listen, Cora. It’s nice that you want to settle down. But pick a better man to settle down with. A scoundrel like that will bring you nothing but trouble. Believe me, I speak from experience. I’ve lived a devil’s life, and now someone’s out to kill me. I wouldn’t wish myself on any lady, much less the one I actually—” He broke off.

Rhys finished the thought for him. “I think what Bellamy here is trying to say is, if Gideon Myles truly cared for you, he’d leave you alone.”

Cora sat up on her seat. “What nonsense,” she said hotly. “What absolute cowardly rot.”

“Cowardly?” Bellamy and Rhys spoke as one.

“Perhaps he has done some bad things in his life,” she said. “But why can’t a man change? I changed. I’m not a whore any longer. I want an honest life now, and maybe Gideon wants the same.” She shook her head. “‘If he cared for you, he’d leave you alone,’” she muttered, mimicking Rhys’s deep voice. Her bold gaze met his. “If he truly cares for me, he’ll stay. And do better.”

Rhys stared at her, surprised. Was this the same girl who’d trembled in his presence not a few weeks ago? He wasn’t sure about Myles’s prospects for an honest life, but he felt certain Cora wouldn’t be any man’s whore again. The girl knew her own value now. Good for her. Meredith’s influence was to thank, most likely. She had a way of letting people know their worth.

Maybe Cora was right. Maybe he was being cowardly. Back in Devonshire, there was a woman who loved him. Loved him enough to risk her own life to save his in a split-second decision, then devote the next fourteen years to coping with the consequences. Caring for herself, her father, the village. And she would do it all again.

Of course it terrified him. How could it not? The whole tragedy still traced back to him—but it wasn’t the result of Rhys being unwanted or worthless. It was the result of his being loved. Meredith thought saving his life was worth every sacrifice, and if he wanted to be with her, he would have to somehow find the courage within himself to agree. Christ. And he’d thought accepting her gift of a shaving kit was difficult?

He’d never run from a battle in his life, but Rhys was running like hell from this.

The ache in his chest intensified. He couldn’t understand why being loved hurt so damn much. And it didn’t help matters any when the carriage gave a violent lurch.

“What’s that?” Cora asked, flinching at the loud crack of a whip.

Rhys tensed. “I don’t know.”

He heard the coachman shouting at the horses from the driver’s box, urging them forward. The entire carriage gave a violent shudder. There was another jolt, this one more jarring than the first. Rhys nearly lost his perch on the seat as the carriage came to a dead stop.

Bellamy looked to Rhys. “Would it help if we offered to walk?”

“Perhaps.”

They never had a chance to act on the idea. With a low, foreboding creak, the carriage began to roll.

Backward.

For the second time in a week, Meredith slept through noon. The inn had no guests, thankfully. She didn’t suppose any locals would be expecting full breakfast today, and if they did—well, they would learn to live with the disappointment.

When she finally gathered the strength to wash, dress, and trudge down the back stairs, she was stunned to find the public room full of men. They’d all gathered round the slate fixed to the wall, arguing and debating. Standing atop a chair, Darryl looked to be defending both the slate and his very life with naught but a nub of chalk. “Now, gentlemen …”

“That purse should be mine,” Skinner said, thumping his chest. “I had five weeks. Didn’t nobody have money on longer.”

Harry Symmonds shook his head. “But it’s been more than five weeks, hasn’t it? That doesn’t make your bet right, just makes it wrong like the rest. Tewkes, just cancel the wagers and call it square.”

Meredith couldn’t believe it. After all that had happened yesterday, they were here this morning to argue over a ridiculous bet? From the bar, she put finger and thumb in her mouth and whistled for attention. When the lot of them swiveled to face her, she finally found her voice. “What the devil are you doing?”

Skinner shrugged. “Well, since Lord Ashworth’s left the village … There are wagers to be settled, Mrs. Maddox.”

Her face burned with anger. With a trembling hand, she retrieved a damp sponge from underneath the bar and threw it at Darryl. It hit his shoulder with a wet squelch, and he yelped with surprise.

“Wipe that slate clean,” she ordered.

Darryl obeyed while the men looked on in silence.

“Now get out,” she said. “All of you. The Three Hounds is closed until further notice.”

The men didn’t move.