Love With a Scandalous Lord Read Free

been fascinated with the ship they’d traveled on, but passing scenery held little interest for him. Her other brothers, Johnny and Micah Westland, with whom she shared a deceased father, had stayed in Fortune to oversee the crops and the cattle. Her stepfather had succeeded in making farming and ranching extremely profitable enterprises for his family. Of course, he took no credit for the achievement, and instead always pointed to the diligent efforts of each family member as being responsible.
    Lydia was grateful Johnny hadn’t accompanied them on this trip. He always teased her unmercifully about her aspiration to be perceived as a refined lady.
    When she was twelve, he’d caught her walking with a book balanced on her head. He’d laughed for days.
    When she was sixteen, he’d tried to foist some of his friends off on her—as possible beaux—and had taken it personally when she’d shown no interest whatsoever inthe young men he thought so highly of. She readily admitted that an ability to dance without stepping on a lady’s toes, to shoot straight, to break a wild mustang, and to curtail a stampede were admirable skills.
    But she was looking for something very different in a man. The projection of an image that was readily apparent the moment he stepped into a room. A heritage so ingrained nothing could shake it loose.
    She’d tried numerous times to explain to Johnny what she wanted, but it was intangible, without concrete form. She simply knew she’d recognize it when she saw it.
    Johnny couldn’t understand the reason she longed for a world so different from the one in which they lived. She didn’t find her life lacking. Rather it seemed incredibly mediocre. And she yearned for much, much more.
    “Look! Swans!” Sabrina said excitedly.
    Returning her attention to the scenery flittering by the coach window, Lydia caught sight of a large pond. Its surface was as smooth as blue glass except for the ripples created by the white swans gliding gracefully across it. A curved stone bridge spanned its width.
    She wondered if that was the pond in which her stepfather’s brother had drowned. Although her stepfather had expressed sorrow upon receiving the Duke’s letter telling him about the accident, Lydia understood no love had been lost between the two brothers.
    Beyond the pond loomed a huge house. No, house was too tame a word for this immense structure. It greatly resembled her idea of what a palace would look like. She pressed a hand against her throat. “Goodness gracious.”
    “Is that your house, Papa?” Sabrina asked. “Is it?”
    “My house is in Fortune,” he said warmly. “That’s the Duke’s house.”
    “But you lived there,” Sabrina insisted.
    “For a time, yes,” he acknowledged.
    Lydia could hardly fathom that her stepfather had been raised within the confines of those massive, towering brick walls. She counted three rows of windows. How could he find contentment with the home they had in Fortune? Granted, it was larger than many in the area, and she had her own bedroom, but surely ten of their houses would fit inside this one.
    The coach rolled onto a cobblestone drive that circled in front of the palace. A riotous array of colorful flowers lined the drive and bordered the house.
    Out of the corner of her eye, Lydia saw her mother wrap her hand around her husband’s and squeeze with reassurance. Lydia knew this moment could not be easy for him, could not be easy for either of them.
    Grayson Rhodes had been born on the wrong side of the blanket. Although he was not legally acknowledged as the Duke’s son, the Duke had taken great care to do his duty by his child. He recognized him and allowed him to use his surname. Still, Lydia couldn’t overlook the fact that the Duke had sent Grayson to Texas to earn his own way, while the Duke’s legitimate sons had everything handed to them. Her stepfather’s insistence that he had no quarrel with English law did little to convince Lydia