Page 17 of Duke of Chaos

Relief flooded through her when Owen did not question her, but instead laughed and clapped his hands together gleefully.

“I knew it,” he boasted, smiling wide. “See what happens when you girls obey me? Things go right!”

The start of a laugh came out so sharp and so quick that Lydia barely had time to turn it into a pretend coughing fit. If he only knew what news Ezra would be delivering. She prayed that she would be present in the room to see her father’s face. The surprise. The confusion.

“Yes, Papa, of course, you are right,” Lydia only agreed, curtsying toward him.

“Indeed, I am,” he murmured, nodding more at the wall than her, “now go to bed. We shall need to be up early tomorrow.”

Lydia quickly bid him goodnight and all but collapsed against her locked bedroom door once she’d finally made it inside. Awayfrom her father, from Juliet, away from everyone, Lydia let her thoughts about all else fall away and called forth her own feelings.

She pushed past the moments when she’d wanted to slap and strangle Ezra for his taunting and his games; past her sense of relief, shock, and accomplishment when he’d announced her as his bride-to-be and onward, to the kiss. But it was not a kiss. Not really.

Lydia brought her fingertips up to her lower lip and gingerly felt around until she touched upon the small ridge of the bite mark. It had not hurt at least not really. It was not like the pain she usually felt when accidentally biting her lip or cheek whilst eating. Even now, although it still throbbed under her fingertips, it did not hurt. It just hummed and throbbed, mimicking her heart.

After their encounter she’d looked at herself in the mirror at her earliest opportunity, believing that he had marked her although her friends had said nothing to that effect, there were no marks on the outside of her mouth, no visible proof at all that Ezra had grazed his teeth on her lips and claimed her as his own. And yet she felt it in her entire body. It was strange, frightening, exciting, and she wanted to know one thing more than the rest: what did it mean?

“Your Grace!” Owen sputtered, choking on his morning tea as Ezra strode confidently into the Knight’s dining room.

Ezra felt a rush of enjoyment as he watched Owen sputter and cough as he dabbed at his wet face and ruined surge, but instead rolled his eyes away from him as bored and focused on the two ladies in the room. Juliet still looked as wide-eyed and fearful as usual, but Lydia’s face was a mask of cool, even haughty ease. She kept her eyes on him calmly as she slowly brought her cup of tea up to her mouth and took a slow slip.

Their moment in the garden the previous night flashed vividly in his mind. He felt his manhood stir to life as he recalled the warmth of her body against his; the taste of her lip as he left his mark and the way her body shuddered. Not in fear but in pleasure.

“Welcome to our home, Your Grace,” Lydia greeted politely after enjoying her tea. She rose gracefully and offered him a charming curtsy before motioning him toward a seat.

“Yes, Your Grace, please,” Owen urged, still coughing. “Forgive us, our butler normally alerts us that we have…”

“I insisted I show myself in as I am terribly busy today and have little time,” Ezra announced, cutting him off.

Ezra paused for a moment and gave Owen a look that dared him to delay the purpose of his visit any longer.

“Proceed, please, Your Grace,” was all Owen could manage.

“I have decided that I shall indeed take a Knight daughter for my bride, Sir, but my preference has fallen to Lady Lydia. I applied for an early license first thing this morning and we shall be wed in four days. A private affair. No reception.”

While Owen paled and began to sputter his dissatisfaction at the news, Lydia only continued to eye him coolly. The bronze and gold flecks in her green eyes were not ablaze today, but he knew she was ready for him. She would attack and defend Juliet at a moment’s notice if he misbehaved. He almost smiled at the thought.

Ezra slowly dragged his blue eyes from Lydia to Owen, the subtle shift in his face making the patriarch stop his sputtering in an instant.

“Your disappointment is noted, Sir, and as recompense, you may keep your daughter’s dowry. But my plan remains as it is, regardless. I have business to address in Frampton directly after the wedding, so a trunk carriage will be arriving in two days for Lydia’s things. Now, my solicitor has drawn up an agreement and I suggest you sign it so that we may all move along.”

Ezra produced the document from his inside jacket pocket as well as a portable pen and laid them both on the table in front of Owen. The man spared one more pleading glance toward Ezra, but with a simple raise of his brow, Owen bowed his head and signed his name on the document.

“You are sure it is Lydia that you desire?” Owen asked as Ezra plucked the pen from his hand to sign his own name.

“Juliet is younger and sweeter. She will be the better wife for you, I promise you, Your Grace.”

Ezra finished his signature with a flourish and then tucked the pen back into his pocket before he coldly replied, “Tell me, Lord Knight, do you intend to be so open about your dependency upon your eldest daughter’s parenting skills, or are you truly not aware that you are so obvious?”

From behind him, Ezra heard Lydia’s startled laugh, and this time he could not help the smile that grew on his lips. He could not love her or be tender with her, but he appreciated that they seemed able to impress one another. As she’d proven last night, she would do well in drawing him the business he needed to get him out of his father’s debt and had decided he had indeed made the right choice.

“Please forgive me, Your Grace. I…no, of course, I do not feel such a…I mean, I love my daughters, truly, but I…”

“That is enough,” Ezra sighed boredly, tucking the now-dry document back into his pocket. “Our business has been concluded. I shall send you the details of the ceremony by the end of the day. Lady Lydia? Walk me out, would you?”

Ezra did not check to make sure that she followed him, but he could not help feeling a sense of relief when he heard her heels clicking behind him in a slow, ladylike fashion. He paused briefly outside the dining room, waiting for her to catch up, and bowed his head toward her.

“If I did not despise the position you have put me in I would say that I was impressed with what you did to my father,” Lydia said by way of a greeting.

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