View this author's other titles

LENGTH: Mid Novel
SENSUALITY: Carnal

Cover art (c) Jenny Dixon 2006
ISBN 1-58608-989-7
Download $5.50
(s&h not included in price)

In a case of mistaken identity, Elizabeth Forbes finds herself lashed with silken bondage to the bed of a notorious rake, Lord Lucas Marston. Refusing to listen to her professions of innocence, he pleasures her with days of erotic bliss, introducing her to a sensual world she has never known, transforming them from carnal bed partners to impassioned lovers. And when they realize that they share a common goal, to hunt down the murderers of Edinburgh and Elizabeth's brother Aidan, they unite to form a formidable pair. But as Elizabeth forges ahead to Edinburgh alone, will Lucas be able to save her from a madman?

Rating: Contains graphic language, explicit sex, violence, and adult content.

HANDSOME DEVIL

By

Donna McAteer

© copyright November 2006, Donna McAteer

Cover art by Jenny Dixon, copyright November 2006

ISBN 1-58608-989-7

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Chapter 1

London, 1827

Just a few centimeters more, thought Elizabeth, as she inched precariously along the huge branch outside her bedroom. Finally, swinging one dainty leg onto the ledge of the windowsill, she held on. She simply couldn’t be found in this position by any respectable member of the ton. As she gasped and strained to pull her own body weight into the well-lit room, she heard the orchestral entertainment for the evening beginning to serenade the partygoers. Hitting the floor with a resounding thud only served to unnerve her further, and she listened intently for any indication that someone had heard her unladylike arrival.

Climbing up the gnarled branches of the enormous oak tree positioned advantageously outside her bedroom window had taken a fair amount of strength and endurance, not to mention balance. Luckily Bedford Street had been uninhabited for the most part, save an occasional passing phaeton. The gas lamps were rather liberally spread out on this section of the street, leaving her roaming undetected. Yet it had become necessary that she maintain her feminine façade during the day while she continued the relentless search for her brother on any given night that vital information became available.

Crumpling to the finely carpeted floor in a heap of damp, wrinkled clothes, she wasted no time undressing as she hopped upon one leg and then the other in an effort to yank off the baggy pair of trousers that were many times too large for her medium stature. Next to be removed was the oversized shirt and coat that had shielded her gender from curious bystanders. Lastly was the voluminous hat which had kept her hair hidden, yet had thankfully not completely ruined her coif for the evening.

The clothing had once belonged to her brother Aidan, but had been unused since his mysterious disappearance one year ago. His vanishing was the sole reason behind her clandestine, albeit dangerous, treks through the streets of London at very unconventional hours for a young woman. Her relentless search had even taken her back to the sight of his disappearance in Edinburgh, Scotland. But after a thorough investigation of the area, she had reluctantly returned to her family without any news to ease their loss.

Shoving the wet clothing beneath her bed, she hastened to make herself presentable for the lavish festivities already in progress. She had not meant to be this delayed, but her meeting with two Bow Street Runners she’d befriended held some promise for her finding her missing sibling. She needed all the help she could rally and graciously accepted their generous information. Information that told her that Aidan had not been the only person to vanish during that time period. Information that also told her about a man at tonight’s affair that could possibly hold the key to vital clues regarding Aidan.

Plopping her weary body upon the tufted cushion of her dressing table stool, she fussed with her hair as she gazed at the image that stared back from the looking glass. Large blue eyes fringed with long brown lashes stared back. Her skin was creamy and unmarred, thanks to her persistent use of bonnets during her time outdoors. Full, pouty lips were a characteristic inherited from her late mother, and she minded not in the least. Her mother’s death four years ago from consumption still caused her pain, for her passing left a huge void in her life. Her exhaustion from the daily obligations of running two manors and the stress of searching for Aidan were beginning to take their toll. It had been almost one year to the day that he’d vanished, and she was no closer to solving the mystery of his whereabouts now than the day it occurred.

Tonight could prove to be a very special evening, one for which she must look her absolute best. The Runners had told her to make the acquaintance of a gentleman by the name of Lord Lucas Marston. It was rumored that he was in hot pursuit of a pair of men having something to do with mysterious murders occurring in Edinburgh. She would seize this opportunity to meet this man and learn what she could from him. She was determined to make a good first impression in order to capture his attention, for it was said that Lord Marston had a healthy appetite for comely women.

As she swiveled on the stool to view the eveningwear laid out on her bed, a tiny tap echoed from her bedchamber door.

“Elizabeth, are you quite ready to leave, my dear?” Aunt Penelope called softly as she waited in the hallway to accompany Elizabeth to the ball. Elizabeth pinned a few loose wisps of hair that had separated from her Grecian upsweep. The older woman had no idea that Elizabeth had spent nearly every spare moment of her time investigating Aidan’s disappearance and she was not about to tell her.

“Why no, Aunt Penelope,” she returned sweetly. Opening the door, she stepped aside and greeted her with a welcoming smile. Then she returned to her mirror to finish the preparations for the evening.

“Elizabeth, darling, you’re not even ready. Here, let me assist you with your things.” The soft-spoken woman had turned to pick-up the corset and hose off the bed. “I don’t know what it is you do with all your time, child,” scolded her aunt.

Elizabeth said nothing, for she knew her chaperone would disapprove of her activities and was only concerned about the responsibilities that had been heaped upon her. She gratefully accepted the much needed assistance in lacing the corset, pulling on hose, and buttoning what seemed like a hundred tiny pearl buttons.

Her aunt’s support had been a tremendous help to Elizabeth during the tumultuous occurrences of the past year. She was her father’s only sister and had agreed to accompany Elizabeth to London not only as a chaperone but to escape the dismal atmosphere that plagued Windmere Estates and Meadow Bay, the family’s two estates. Penelope made no secret of the fact that she could no longer tolerate watching her brother, Adam, drink and gamble the family into total ruination.

As her aunt finished the task of buttoning, Elizabeth whirled around in front of the full-length mirror for a final inspection. The ice-blue satin dress, kid slippers, and silk petticoat certainly had transformed her into a presentable lady.

“You look absolutely ravishing this evening, my dear. Why, there won’t be a gentleman here that will be able to keep his eyes off of you.”

Elizabeth looked down at herself and thought that she had done a fair job of exuding the appearance of a well-bred, well-to-do lady, even if the truth was that her father’s gambling had all but ruined their lives. Tonight was more than a chance to search for a suitable husband to save her family’s nearly foreclosed properties. It was a chance to find out what had happened to her brother.

Elizabeth carefully adjusted her low décolletage, hoping to seize the attention of the lord in question, yet not appear too loose in morals. She then smoothed the folds of her ice-blue satin gown as it clung sensuously to her curves, the tight Empire style accentuating the voluptuousness of her bust line. A fashionable diamond pendant adorned her graceful neck, while tiny diamond studs winked out from their setting upon her delicate lobes. These ornaments of the elite were the last vestiges of her mother’s glorious jewelry collection. She guarded them carefully, and they traveled with her at all times as a precaution against her father’s sudden need for gambling funds. Tonight she would wear them with pride and dignity as a reminder of a dying mother’s wish for her daughter’s fruitful future.

Her auburn tresses had been tastefully pinned to her head, allowing a few waves of hair to cascade down her back.

“Shall we go, Aunt Penelope?” she asked, as she smiled affectionately at her chaperone. As she prepared to exit the chamber, she grabbed her fragile fan as precaution to a ballroom’s overbearing heat. It would never do for a fresh young maiden to have perspiration marring her appearance. She snapped the fan closed and attached it to her wrist with the tiny strap.

As the two women walked side-by-side down the candle-lit corridor, violin strains greeted them, singing out the sweet melody of a waltz. This evening’s ball was being hosted by relatives on her father’s side with whom Elizabeth was staying, which thankfully allowed her to make a more unannounced entrance by way of a side foyer staircase. Elizabeth had never enjoyed being the center of attention, despite her failure to prevent it from occurring. Several pairs of male eyes still managed to spy the pair and cast curious glances as the two descended arm-in-arm down the smaller stairway. Several suitors could be seen moving into position to intercept them, as she glided gracefully, being careful to watch her footing beneath the billowing satin skirt.

Elizabeth cast a sideways glance at her aunt and marveled at the woman’s continued beauty. Her aunt still retained remnants of the grandeur and timeless loveliness of her younger years. Her posture remained regal and proud, her midnight-blue gown adorning her still trim figure, despite the advancing years. Her silvery locks were tastefully pinned up into a tight chignon. A small matching headpiece was situated slightly askew, giving her a daring look. Three dainty, black ostrich feathers fluttered with each of her successive steps.

As the two descended the smaller, winding staircase together, Elizabeth caught glimpses of the whirling dancers as they made their way around the huge dance floor. Colors blurred as the various hues of the ball gowns blended into one kaleidoscopic vision with each turn of the swirling partygoers. Intermittently the stark black of a man’s evening attire would interrupt the blending colors of the women’s dresses. She basked in the rush of feelings that overcame her. So busy had she been running two estates and probing every available source to find Aidan, she had neglected to allow herself the simple pleasures of being a fanciful young woman.

“Oh, Aunt Penelope, is this not the most beautiful room you’ve ever seen?” She gazed about while attempting to keep her effervescence under control.

“The most beautiful,” replied her aunt.

Elizabeth walked around the dance area as she gazed at the finery displayed in this one room. Nearly all of the women dripped with expensive jewelry sparkling from around their necks and twinkling from their earlobes. Their fine ball gowns of satin, silk, and crepe reflected their enormous wealth, while the men looked no less resplendent in their fine evening attire, satin cravats, jeweled cufflinks, and cravat pins.

The magnificent parquet floor was barely visible beneath the feet of the twirling dancers. Huge marble columns flanked the dance floor, giving way to a lower area that led to other various parts of the mansion. Enormous chandeliers hung majestically from focal points in the elaborate ballroom, casting light that reflected from the many pieces of crystal affixed to the fixtures.

What could easily be thousands of candles illuminated the room, making Elizabeth sigh from the sheer beauty. She breathed in deeply at the huge vases holding vast assortments of lilies, roses, and lilacs.

Elizabeth eyed the suave gentlemen that occupied the crowded ballroom, mentally grading each one as she glanced in their direction. Long ago she dreamed of marrying a handsome prince, but with the escalating family woes she had abandoned the idea of marriage for love and had instead resigned herself to a comfortable life with a reliable spouse. As long as the bridegroom was an honorable man and commanded enough wealth to aid her father, sister, and ailing home to sufficient comfort, love would have to be forfeited. It was a small sacrifice in order to help the family she loved.

Turning her head, Elizabeth caught sight of her aunt as she gave a little wave, effectively letting Elizabeth know that she was still within a respectable distance. Her aunt’s attention was redirected to an approaching woman wearing a garishly red satin dress which fit her portly body poorly. The two became engrossed in an animated conversation, leaving Elizabeth to turn her attentions elsewhere.

Turning to view the dance floor, she watched the swirling dancers as they passed. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her aunt approaching arm-in-arm with a beaming gentleman. Elizabeth directed her attention to the man whose arm Aunt Penelope held.

“Elizabeth, allow me to present Reginald Wainscoat.” She spoke rather loudly, in an effort to be heard over the orchestral music. Elizabeth smiled up at the young man with a welcoming grin.

“Reginald, allow me to present to you, Elizabeth Forbes.” Backing away, she left the couple to their discussion.

“Good evening, Ms. Forbes. I believe I am first on your dance card this evening,” he said in a velvety voice as he bent slightly at the waist while maintaining eye contact with her.

“Good evening, Mr. Wainscoat, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Try as she might, she found it impossible to mask her inattentiveness as she gazed around the room.

“Shall we?” he said, extending his arm towards her.

She resisted, her mind occupied with her primary objective for the evening. “Excuse me, Mr. Wainscoat, but I must postpone our dance for a little while. It is vitally important that I meet with someone at this ball, and if you could just point him out, I’d be eternally grateful.” His smile faltered, and his hand returned to his side as his posture became stiff.

“I am truly sorry. I have urgent business with Lord Marston, and if you would be so kind to point him out, I will leave you to your next dance partner.”

“Lord Marston?” The shocked expression on his face told her that her rendezvous was less than acceptable. “Are you certain it is Lord Marston that you wish to speak with? You are, after all, a respectable young woman who must have gotten his name mistakenly.” His expression had progressed to one of actual disdain, and she now wondered what sort of man this Lord Marston truly was.

“No, I believe I’m correct in saying that it is Lord Marston I need to converse with.” Scanning the room with his eyes, a curt nod of his head indicated the direction.

“Thank you, sir. I would be honored to dance with you at a later time.” With that, she curtsied and turned in the direction he had indicated.

* * * *

As Elizabeth skirted the perimeter of the dance floor, her gaze caught a familiar face in the crowd. Elizabeth’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she recognized a woman she thought never to have to see again. She weaved back and forth, even stood on tiptoes, in an effort to confirm the illusion. Yet she couldn’t be certain if her suspicions were correct. She positioned herself to get a better view.

Finally she stared across the floor at a curse from her past. Eileen Drummond stood alone amidst a throng of females, with no chaperone in plain sight. Her blonde curls flounced about her pale shoulders as she gazed in awe at each breathtaking man that came into view. But Eileen was not a ravishing beauty and had always had great trouble securing the attentions of the male population. It was also reputed that her dowry was meager, making the task of capturing a husband that much more difficult. Obviously, she had come to London as well to find a suitable mate.

Years ago, in their hometown of Berwick, Eileen had fallen head over heels in love with John Selwyn, the heir to a powerful family. She let him know of her love at every chance and pursued him with a vengeance that bordered on obsession. Yet John shunned her affections for the attentions of Elizabeth. Eileen had vowed to ruin Elizabeth’s life someday. The remembered threat of retaliation gave Elizabeth a shiver of dread.

Why was Eileen at this party? As she stared at Eileen across the busy dance floor, she saw her grab the arm of a passing servant and make a writing gesture with her hand. The servant merely nodded and beckoned for Eileen to follow. The two were swallowed-up by the crush of partygoers and were gone.

Glancing about, she resumed her quest for Lord Marston. Her heart leapt as her gaze fell upon a disarmingly handsome man at the end of the room.

Lord Lucas Marston stood regally, eyeing the women that pranced about for his perusal. He was engrossed in a lively conversation with another gorgeous man who appeared to be discussing the ballroom occupants with Lord Marston. The lord’s handsome head followed first one and then another. Being a notorious rake and an alluring rogue, his attentions were sought only by women wishing a night in his bed. No self-respecting maiden would dare be caught in his presence, for fear of ruining her reputation. Yet he was the man who might finally answer questions that surrounded her brother’s disappearance. He was the informant with whom she must speak.

Elizabeth was more than aware that close proximity alone could destroy a maiden’s reputation. Therefore, she would need to devise a way to meet with the scoundrel in a secretive location so as not to arouse any gossip. She was willing to risk her own reputation to finally have the answers she desired.

* * * *

Lucas stifled a yawn even as a bevy of curvaceous females sashayed past trying to attract him. He’d not really wanted to make an appearance at this soiree, but the 6th Duke of Ravenshire had been insistent that he be there. He’d just returned to London recently on a matter of grave personal importance, and the long journey had left him bone weary. His duties as a Member of Parliament had thankfully not called him as well. Yet as a courtesy to his friend, the duke, he had made an appearance.

He was an eligible bachelor, and his motives for attending this affair had taken on a distinctly more serious note this evening. His title and status demanded he sire an heir, to pass down his heritage and secure the bloodlines of his family. His own reasons were much more grounded in that he wanted a wife to share in his life. For after years of keeping company with courtesans and available women, he found himself ready to make a commitment.

Even though his affairs were not that numerous, his reputation as a full-fledged rogue made his appearance at these seasonal functions less than welcome. He was not the heathen the ton believed him to be. For he did no more than any other red-blooded male would in his occasional sampling of the enticements offered. All the same, a rake in the midst of a room full of young debs was not an acceptable combination.

His status in the London society had brought with it an endless stream of succulent and willing females. Hardly a day went by when there wasn’t a desirous beauty offering up her body for his pleasure. He’d even received discreet notes from eager wives wishing a thrilling afternoon with him. Marriage between husband and wife very often resembled a business transaction more than a bond of love for the society of the ton. Even though it was perfectly acceptable to engage in extramarital affairs shielded in secrecy, Lucas abhorred infidelity. He objected strongly to sampling another man’s wife, for he certainly wouldn’t want his wife, if he had one, diddling with another man behind his back. Unattached women were a safer bet, since the absence of a jealous husband made the act much more enjoyable.

One thing he staunchly avoided was virgins. His reputation usually helped them keep their distance, and it was primarily the experienced females who approached him with various propositions. Since he took no pleasure in the breaking of maidenheads, he avoided the unseasoned females making their debut into society.

Yet this evening his plans had changed as he surveyed the selection of ladies. His own desires to wed were at the forefront tonight, and he sincerely hoped he would not be viewed as an infidel. He had unfairly been labeled a rake by the envious men of the ton for no other reason than his attraction to women of all ages. And it certainly did his reputation no good at all to be described as the most handsome man in all of England.

“Lucas, my good man, are you bored out of your wits yet?” asked his friend Charles, jarring him from his thoughts. “Or are you seriously scrutinizing this gathering of delectably untouched morsels?” He stared questioningly into Lucas’ eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re ready to enter the marriage mart, my friend. You’d certainly break a lot of hearts if you suddenly became unavailable.

“Don’t be absurd, Charles. No one cares what my marital status is.” His growl of displeasure served as a warning to his friend. “Besides, it’s high time I began my search for a mate.” Charles’s shocked expression was confirmation enough that he couldn’t believe his ears.

“What do you say to taking in a fight tonight? It’ll take your mind off this ridiculous idea about finding a spouse. Thirteen Bond Street is just a block from here, and I hear Gentleman Jackson has a bout set with two newcomers to pugilism. Should be quite a bash. How about it?” he asked enthusiastically.

“No, Charles, as tempting as that sounds, I believe I’ll remain here. You never know on which particular night I might meet my future wife,” he replied as he winked.

His attention was riveted by a truly resplendent beauty in an ice-blue ball gown. He had never seen this particular female before, but she had certainly grabbed his attention. Yet as he watched, she disappeared into a throng of adoring males. He would make it his business to find out who she was, and if possible, have the duke arrange a meeting between them. Just the thought brought a smile to his lips and a flutter to his heart, not to mention a bulge to his trousers. The night might not be a total loss after all.

He had been on the verge of accepting Charles’s offer, when a servant marched up to him, handing him a folded note. His eyes lowered to the offered parchment, and his curiosity overrode his better judgment. Probably nothing more than a bored aristocratic chit making another obscene proposition, he thought. He took the paper, unfolded and read it.

His surprise at the contents must have been mirrored on his face, for his friend anxiously asked, “What the devil does it say, Lucas?”

Without answering he folded the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. “I’m not quite sure what it is, Charles. But I mean to find out. This is an offer I just have to see for myself.”

Nodding a farewell to his friend, he following the servant around the bustling activity on the dance floor to a more remote area. As he walked, he let his mind run rampant with illusions of a naked woman writhing on a huge bed as she waited for the coming ecstasy. He could feel himself harden as he mentally pictured her erect nipples jutting toward the ceiling while she moaned and twisted about in a frenzy of anticipation. The note had, after all, mentioned something about a seductive female wishing to play a fantasy game of sexual pleasure with him. Although he thought it rather odd to receive such a note at this particular soiree, who was he to disregard such an invitation? It certainly warranted looking into, for he wouldn’t want to pass up the sexual opportunity of a lifetime.

The deafening crescendo of the orchestral music subsided as they made their way through a dimly-lit corridor leading to the quieter recesses of the huge mansion. Eventually the youth stopped before a huge oak door with an impressive brass handle. Swinging the portal open, he dutifully stood to one side as Lucas strode by into the room.

As he entered, he realized he now stood in a study. Shelves lined nearly every wall. Candle sconces were sporadically located on various surfaces, giving the room a glowing quality. Lucas had to wonder if this display was all part of some alluring setup meant to prime him for the debauchery ahead.

“My lord, if you would just wait here, the miss will be in shortly to speak with you,” said the soft-spoken servant as he shrank from the room, closing the door softly.

As Lucas walked along the rows of bookshelves, he could hear branches lightly scraping the window. His fingers fanned the titles as he surveyed the impressive selection of literature his friend possessed.

He was nearing the end of the bookcase when he heard the unmistakable click of the door latch as the study door opened slowly. But instead of an experienced seductress, a frightened and shivering female faced him with an expression of nervous trepidation contorting her features. Her pale skin appeared white and chalky in the minimal light. Her light blonde hair bounced with her movements as she attempted to flatten her back against the now closed study door.

What the hell was this? This was no alluring temptress but a mortified virgin, and a very plain one at that. Yet he had been summoned to this room by a very suggestive note.

He strode languorously towards her. Her expression of terror increased as she plastered her back against the door and stared up at him with huge, glassy eyes.

“To what do I owe this most pleasurable surprise?” he crooned, staring down intently into her upturned face. She wilted right before him. Her knees were buckling, and her lips quivered as she attempted to open her mouth and speak, yet nothing came out.

Obviously his reputation had preceded him, judging by the frightened look in her eyes. As a chivalrous gesture, he leaned down and picked up her hand with the intent of kissing her knuckles. But as he started to raise it to his lips, she snatched it away and moved sideways with the obvious intention of keeping a more safe distance between them.

He decided to make a game of it with this indecisive female. Since she had the audacity to send him such a provocative note, he would have his fun with her. As she backed away, he advanced towards her until she had her back firmly against the bookcase. Placing a protective hand against his chest, she obviously sought to halt any further progression on his part.

“I shall scream if you touch me, my lord.”