A Scandal in July — Sneak Peek
Ruthless Rivals Series
Chapter 1.
London, 1820.
Lenore Montgomery had faced many challenges in her twenty-three years. She’d wrestled a giant water snake in Brazil, chased a panther with a shoe, and survived an unfortunate shipwreck off the coast of Madagascar.
None of those things had been half as difficult as seducing Rhys Trevelyan Davies.
The rivalry between her family and their wild Welsh neighbors, the Davies, had been the stuff of legend for centuries, but the mutual antagonism had been tempered in recent years by a series of scandalous marriages between the two sides.
First, her cousin Maddie had married Gryff Davies, the current Earl of Powys, then Maddie’s brother Tristan had fallen for the red-haired Davies hellion, Carys. Shortly after that, her other cousin, sensible mapmaker Harriet, had succumbed to the seductive pull of captain Morgan Davies.
Clearly, the combination of a Davies and a Montgomery led to all manner of exciting possibilities, and for someone with an adventurous spirit like Lenore, that was thoroughly irresistible. She’d determined to meet one of the dreadful Davies for herself as soon as she returned to London with her globe-trotting family, and her wish had been granted at Lady Carrington’s summer ball.
Unfortunately, she’d taken one look at Rhys Davies, and promptly lost her heart. And her wits.
It had not been the stuff of fairytales. Their eyes hadn’t met across a crowded ballroom. He hadn’t begged her to dance, or even saved her from being run over by a carriage.
She’d found him, quite by accident, in the garden. The unmistakable sounds of an altercation had been coming from the shrubbery; raised male voices, the scrape of gravel, a shout, and then a splash. Being naturally curious, Lenore had peered around a hedge to find Rhys Davies coolly straightening his cravat, and another man floundering about in the fountain.
She’d known it was Rhys from the unmistakable likeness between all three Davies brothers. She’d already been introduced to Gryff and Morgan earlier in the evening, and they’d had the same dark hair, sharp jaw, and sinfully full lips as their sibling. Neither of them, however, had made her heart fell like it was trying to beat out of her chest.
“When a lady tells you no, Burton, she bloody well means no!” Davies growled at the man in the water. “And if I ever hear you’ve mistreated a woman again, I’ll do more than just ruin your coat. I’ll fucking bury you. Understand?”
The man in the fountain wiped some pond weed off his cheek and sent him a surly scowl. “Yes.”
Lenore stepped back, intending to withdraw unobtrusively, but her shoe crunched on the gravel and Davies’s head whipped round.
His hair was wildly disordered, his lower lip bleeding from where his opponent had obviously managed to land a punch before he’d been vanquished, and his eyes, when he caught sight of Lenore standing in the path, had been glittering with fury.
Until they’d widened in astonishment.
Lenore didn’t believe in love at first sight. At least, she hadn’t, until that very moment. But the combination of outrageously handsome features and a noble urge to protect the innocent had done something funny to her brain.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said stiffly, ignoring the way her pulse was hammering in her throat.
Davies took a step toward her, his eyes roaming over her face as if she were some sort of apparition.
“Who are you?”
His voice was deep, a gravelly growl that made her knees go weak and her stomach somersault in the most outrageous way.
Lenore tossed her head and studied him back with equal intensity. “I’m Lenore.”
He stilled, and his eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. “Not Lenore Montgomery?”
She sent him her widest smile, the one her father said could charm the birds from the trees. “The very same.”
Davies’s expression changed from guarded to horrified in an instant, and he raised his hands up in front of him as if to ward off a blow. She thought she heard him mutter Oh, Shit, under his breath, but she couldn’t be sure.
Lenore paused. She was used to rendering men speechless. She’d been told she was beautiful ever since she was a girl, and while she found people’s fascination with her appearance quite ridiculous—really, it was just luck that she’d been blessed with a combination of green eyes, straight nose, and pink lips that people generally found attractive—there was no denying that the ability to wind men around her little finger was a useful tool to have.
To date, she’d received six marriage proposals, and countless more indecent ones, but Rhys Davies was looking at her as if she’d just told him she was carrying the bubonic plague.
A mortified blush heated her cheeks, even as a bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to escape her chest.
Oh, God, had she finally found the man of her dreams, only to discover he was the one man she’d ever encountered not to find her attractive?
The universe had a wicked sense of humor.
Davies was still staring at her with a combination of annoyance and dismay, but the cad in the fountain had managed to extricate himself and now leaned, dripping, on the curved stone rim.
“I say, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Gordon Burton.”
He extended his hand, as if he expected her to shake it, and Lenore sent him a scathing glance.
“I’m not interested in making the acquaintance of a man who takes advantage of women,” she said crossly. “Go away.”
Burton’s face fell, and he limped off into the bushes, leaving a trail of water in his wake.
Davies still didn’t seem in the mood to introduce himself, so Lenore twitched her skirts and straightened her elbow-length gloves. “Well, then. I suppose I’ll go back inside. Goodnight, Mister Davies. You’ve certainly lived up to expectations.”
With that parting shot, she withdrew, hurrying back inside to the safety of her family, but the image of Rhys Davies’s face had been imprinted on her brain. And her heart.
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