Page 3 of Duke of Chaos

“You do not think it is Lord Dennings, is it?” she asked timidly.

Lord Dennings, a duke of which even Lydia could not recall, had been one to corner Helena and Barbara last year uttering threats. It was Ambrose that had saved them from Dennings’ ill intentions, and while they had kept the incident to themselves, there was not a single member of their little group who felt inclined to be friendly toward the man.

“If it is Dennings I will forbid it,” Lydia stated adamantly, wrapping her arms around her little sister.

“You cannot forbid Father anything,” Juliet replied wearily as she accepted her sister’s embrace. “Let us just hope that it is Morgan.”

Before she could reply, they both heard their father’s voice in the hall and went rigid. Juliet gave her a frightened glance before the two let go of each other, smoothed their dresses, and fixed their smiles as the two men entered the room. Lydia felt Juliet stiffen at her side as she saw her father and the handsome, raven-haired, black-suited man enter the room. Lydia felt her panic suddenly rise as she recognized the suitor.

It wasn’t Dennings, thank God. But it wasn’t Morgan either. It was Ezra.

“Your reputation precedes you, Lord Knight,” Ezra said smoothly as Owen walked him toward the drawing room. “As does the reputation of your daughters.”

Owen Knight, a tall, rather rotund man who was the father of Ezra’s best friend’s wife, seemed to shrink and blush under the cool words. Ezra was not particularly fond of him and found him rather…lackingin many areas. He felt a shudder of disgust as he watched the man’s reaction but ignored it.

“If I may say so, Your Grace, your reputation precedes you as well,” Owen replied respectfully. “I was quite honored and surprised that you wanted to pay a visit to my Juliet. I was not aware that you were even looking for a wife this season.”

“I do not find it necessary to share my intentions with our little society,” Ezra countered matter-of-factly, “I shall not make a scene or fuss when it comes to securing a wife.”

Ezra would never admit it outright, but Thomas’s earlier words had been correct. After months of research and thought, Ezra had concluded that a wife was just what he needed to turn his devilish reputation around. Now he simply had to acquire one.

The boy had smirked wildly at him when Ezra had explained that he would be busy for a few months, as if knowing exactly what Ezra would be up to. And although Ezra had been annoyed that he’d been educated by a fourteen-year-old, the respect he had for the young orphaned duke only rose in response.

Ezra was a good head shorter than Owen and could likely fit into the man’s clothes twice over, but the man still walked beside him as though he would need to lunge away at a moment’s notice; as if Ezra was a predator seeking his kill. Ezra was used to this response and preferred that his acquaintances be scared rather than comfortable. Things were always easier that way. If that tactic did not achieve what he wanted, that was when his future wife would step in and tip the scales in his favor.

“Yes, of course,” Owen agreed, stumbling over his words, “Well, as I said, I am beyond pleased that you have taken interest in my Juliet. She will surely be the girl you are looking for.”

Ezra said nothing as he walked with Owen into the sitting room and saw Lydia and Juliet waiting for them. Juliet, as ever, was pretty and delicate. But Lydia’s coldly beautiful, harsh stare waswhat made him smile. With an added flourish, he bowed toward the two young ladies.

“Lady Lydia, Miss Juliet,” he greeted crisply. “I appreciate you seeing me.”

“It is not as if we had a choice,” Lydia retorted in a low, icy tone.

“What was that?” Owen grunted as Ezra let out a low chuckle.

“It is an honor for our family to be your choice,” Lydia said, louder and sweeter this time with a pained smile.

Ezra nearly laughed out loud at this but chose instead to turn his unreadable face toward Owen.

“I appreciate your guidance, but I believe Lady Lydia shall be a sufficient chaperone,” he said to their father. “You may go now.”

Owen’s heavy brows momentarily rose in surprise as his cheeks grew ruddy and a frown formed on his face. As Owen began to voice his objection, the arch of Ezra’s brow and the set of his jaw shifted subtly. Little, inconspicuous movements that took his impassive expression to one of primal challenge. Owen’s angered look slid from his face as if it was made of oil and he merely nodded.

“I do not know what game you and your band of musketeers are playing now, but this is not amusing,” Lydia hissed at him the moment Owen left the room.

“What game?” Ezra drawled, sliding his hands into his pockets once more. “I have decided to take a wife and that there would be no better woman than a sister of Alice’s.”

He then tilted his head slightly to the side, one brow arched in mock disappointment.

“I would have thought you would be pleased to know that you are highly regarded,” he mused, adding a bite to his mocking tone.

“We are pleased,” Juliet whispered, visibly shaking beside Lydia.

Her eyes remained fixed on the floor, only glancing up at him every few seconds, as if fearful of meeting his gaze. Ezra felt his amusement dissipate as he absorbed Juliet’s countenance. Juliet was a good girl. Perhaps too good, too meek, to ever become unafraid of him.

Had she always been this small? Childlike? He had not paid much attention to her person when he had done his research, at ease with the ton’sgeneral talk of her beauty. It was their acceptance he needed, after all, for his plan to work.

“We are allowed to be pleased and surprised at the same time,” Lydia retorted, giving him a level stare as she tilted her chin slightly higher.

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