Page 48 of Trapped with the Earl of Sin

He moved swiftly to the bar, his mind racing. Luke’s obliviousness to Edwin’s intentions left Martin feeling more anxious than ever. He had known Edwin long enough to recognize the malice that lurked behind his seemingly playful jests. Edwin’s jealousy and bitterness had always simmered beneath the surface, and now, with the wedding so close, it seemed to be more obvious than ever.

As Martin ordered the drinks, he tried to strategize his next move. How was he supposed to keep Edwin away from Luke without being obvious?

Since Luke was completely fooled by his cousin, it seemed impossible.

With the drinks in hand, Martin made his way back to the group, a forced smile plastered on his face. He handed out the drinks, keeping a close watch over Edwin, who accepted his glass with a suspiciously polite nod. Still, Martin was wary. Very wary.

“To Luke and Mary!” Edwin toasted, raising his glass high. The group echoed his cheer, clinking their glasses together. Martin took a small sip, his eyes never leaving Edwin. He needed to stay vigilant. “The wedding is happening in the morning, and then he will be tied down forever.”

A thick ball of worry lodged itself in the base of Martin’s throat. He did not like that statement at all, it put him on edge. Even if Edwin did not get the chance to do something nefarious at this party, Martin was not convinced that he would let it go. There was still plenty of time to act badly, even when everyone went to sleep.

“To Luke and Mary!” someone else said, triggering a cheer from everyone else. “To their special day in the morning.”

“To Luke!”

“To Mary!”

“To the wedding!”

Martin tried his hardest to join in, but it was not the easiest thing for him to fake. His mood was sinking increasingly lowerby the minute. Even as Luke patted him on the back, he could not smile.

Not when Edwin was sneering more obviously now.

That man had a gun in his bedchambers.

If Edwin did not want Luke to make it to the morning, then who knew what he might do?

Well, all that meant was that Martin would not be getting any sleep. He did not mind attending the wedding exhausted as long as Luke got there alive. If it meant he had to sit outside Luke’s bedchambers all night long to ensure Edwin could not get inside, then that was exactly what he would do.

Edwin wasnotgoing to win.

He was not going to outwit Martin. He had picked the wrong enemy here, which he was about to find out.

Martin paced up and down outside of Luke’s bedchambers, his heart racing with each passing second. He was growing weary, but increasingly aware that something could still happen. The way that Edwin had looked tonight, it had unnerved Martin too much. The more he drank, the darker his eyes became. The angrier he had appeared.

Martin jumped every single time he heard a noise. There were too many people here, too much going on. Even at this very late hour. The preparations for the wedding were still underway, which left Martin with the silence he so desperately needed.

How was anyone sleeping in this mess?

He paused for a moment, trying to steady his breathing. The dimly lit hallway felt stifling, and he could feel the tension in his muscles refusing to relent. Martin glanced at the heavy wooden door of Luke’s bedchambers, contemplating whether he should knock and check if his friend was alright. But what would he say? What if Luke was already asleep, oblivious to the turmoil outside his door?

He was alright anyway, Martin knew it. He had been outside these doors ever since Luke went to bed.

A sudden creak from down the hall made Martin flinch. He cursed under his breath, his nerves frayed. Every footstep, however light, had him on edge. He could not stand any of it.

The more he paced, the more he allowed his thoughts to wander, and Martin’s thoughts kept circling back to Edwin. He had always been intense, but tonight, there was something different in his demeanor, something threatening. The way Edwin’s eyes had burned with an unspoken fury, the way his lips had curled into a sneer as he watched Luke as he drank and talked about his upcoming wedding ceremony—it all hinted at something sinister.

He wrung his hands anxiously, thinking about the gun Edwin had hidden away in his closet.

That damn gun.

The dinging of the clock, alerting him to the next hour, only put Martin more one edge. It was now three am, a terrible late hour that seemed to amplify every small sound, every faint rustle or distant whisper. Martin rubbed his temples, trying to fend off the throbbing headache that was forming.

Another creak echoed through the hallway, this time closer. Martin’s heart leaped into his throat as he turned to face the direction of the noise. He squinted into the dim light, straining to make out any movement in the shadows. Anything that he might need to act on…

Just as Martin’s hand curled into a fist, a figure emerged from the darkness. It was a servant, a young woman carrying a tray with a pitcher and cups.

“Sir,” she finally whispered, bowing her head slightly, “I did not mean to startle you. I am just bringing water for the guests.”

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