Page 11 of Duke of Chaos

Ambrose’s eyes darkened once more, and it was clear he was finished being toyed with.

“You want me to be brotherly? Then heed my words,brother.Stop pursuing Juliet.”

“Do not forget how I earned my moniker, Ambrose,” Ezra warned, his voice low and deadly. “You may have your connections, but it is myreach into the lowest levels of humanityandthe highest levels of royalty that has kept this establishment well-hidden and well-serviced.”

Ambrose’s nostrils flared as he took another step back from Ezra, but Ezra was not finished. He afforded his friends a longer leash than most when it came to threats, but it was clear Ambrose needed a reminder of just how vicious he truly was.

“I can have this and three more of your businesses shut down within the night if I wished,” he continued.

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

“Like that.”

“Ezra,” Ambrose said warily, slowly raising his hands, “Stop. This is not about business. You are right. I was wrong to tangle it up with family matters. But the fact remains, brother, that…”

“The remaining fact is that this discussion is over,” Ezra stated, cutting him off.

He drew in a deep breath and allowed his customary blank calmness to cover him once more.

“Your words are noted, Ambrose. Now, follow me to the ring and go a round with me the bloody way, or trot off to your business.”

Ezra watched Ambrose grind his teeth so hard that his jaw clicked, and he wondered if he would start the fight without delay. Suddenly, without a further word, Ambrose stormed off. Ezra silently watched his friend take his leave, more angry nowthat Ambrose had refused the fight than his earlier threat to his business.

Walking to his office alone, Ezra kept his face a mask of pure boredom as the impact of Ambrose’s words began to wound him. He had expected his friends to be caught a little off guard upon hearing the news, but their absolute disapproval of his choice was a surprising blow. None of them, he realized, truly saw any good in him. Perhaps there was no good to see.

Good or evil, Ezra still had an objective to fulfill. One way or another, he was going to marry a Knight daughter.

“I came into your room late last night to talk to you,” Juliet whispered. “But you were not there.”

Lydia looked up from her embroidery, scanning the sitting room for any sight of her father or his servants. When she saw only their handmaids accompanying them, she laid down her embroidery and gave a warning look to her little sister. Juliet, too, set down her embroidery, and the two sisters rose and opened the glass door to the patio.

“I was remedying your situation,” Lydia explained quietly, despite the added privacy. “I believe I have found a solution.”

Juliet’s face, wrought with worry lines, eased into its smooth, youthful beauty once again as her entire body sagged with relief.

“Do not make me wait,” Juliet urged, starting to bounce on her feet. “Tell, do tell!”

Lydia felt her cheeks heat as she thought of Ezra and his request that she disrobe. She had hated it. And yet, something in her had become enticed by his suggestion. The opportunity to meet his challenge and stand, proud and bare, before him. Little had she known that by refusing his dare she had earned his respect, whatever that was worth.

“It is best not to share the details until the contract is sustained by both parties,” Lydia replied, forcing a placating smile as she pushed the thoughts away, “but I shall need your assistance.”

Although Juliet was a bit reluctant at first to relinquish hearing the details, she eventually abandoned her questioning and adhered to what Lydia had instructed. One hour later the missive from Ezra had arrived, and Lydia had snatched it from the butler’s hands. After making an excuse to Juliet, she quickly left and opened it. Disappointment rose in her as she saw it was simply a name. Lady Poppy Ferris, Countess of Charmaine. She knew the young lady and had even played cards with her at a few ladies’ events.

She was soft, pretty, and a bit skittish. Someone, Lydia realized, would be terrified of Ezra.Of course, you would not make this easy,Lydia thought as she tucked the small card into her sleeve and retreated to her room to prepare.

“Lydia,” Owen said from behind her just as she reached her door.

Lydia froze, the small card in her sleeve burning into her wrist like a brand of guilt, then turned toward her father. She smiled as prettily as possible as she met his suspicious gaze, and begged her cheeks not to turn red.

“Good day, Papa,” she replied as pleasantly as possible, “How are you?”

“Annoyed,” Owen stated flatly, holding up a card that looked identical but larger than the one hidden in her sleeve. “The Duke of Frampton has sent word that he has canceled today’s visit. You’d best tell me you had nothing to do with this, girl. This match is the ticket for our family. Not one, but two daughters married off to powerful dukes.”

Anger replaced Lydia’s bashfulness, and the woman she truly was, the one who had proudly raised her younger sisters on her own with little to no help from her father, smiled back at him as she batted her eyes.

“Oh, yes, Papa, I was meaning to tell you about that,” Lydia replied calmly, taking her father’s arm as if he were harmless. “The duke had mentioned wanting a chance to dance with Juliet, and we had discovered that the three of us would be attending the Earl of Leeds’ Mayfair estate ball, which as you know is just down the street and to which we’d already been invited. It is tomorrow evening, so he suggested that we meet there. He did mention that he was going to tell you on his way out, but I do suppose as busy as he is, he simply forgot. Apologies for worrying, you, Papa, but all is well.”

Lydia watched Owen’s annoyed expression dissolve into happiness as she spun him her pretty half-lie.

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