Page 59 of Duke of Chaos

“Your Grace,” a guard greeted him as he stormed into the hall.

“Go fetch me a fresh horse,” Ezra commanded, “I need to get back to London straight away and I do not have time for a carriage.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the guard answered quickly, “I have a question regarding the duchess. She has requested…”

“As long as she is protected let her do whatever she wants,” he snapped, cutting the man off, and opened the front door.

He waited outside as the guard ran to bring him the horse, giving Ezra time to double back to his office and grab his dagger and pistols. By the time he returned, the guard had a horse waiting for him. Devoid of any thought other than finally solving the murders of their fathers, Ezra urged his horse into a run and left for London.

“Your Grace,” the guard said worriedly to Lydia. “I am not sure this is wise. The duke will certainly not like this plan.”

“That will be a shame,” Lydia agreed, leaning back in her saddle, “But that is a matter I will deal with at another time.”

“If His Grace has no idea of your whereabouts, it will be sure to put him in an awful state.”

He is already in an awful state,Lydia thought, her heart sinking. She really did want to go back to him, not that she hadgone far, and not that she had broken his rules. She had left as he’d instructed, had taken a guard along as he had instructed and had ridden to the fields and meadows that stretched along the Frampton countryside. After the way he had snapped at her, she could not remain in the house and needed to burn off some of her hurt and anger. She would not return until she was sure that Ezra was actually going to talk to her.

Her heart still hurt from the cold look he had given her and how roughly he’d pushed her hands away from him. It had not hurt her physically but seeing Ezra so caged and agitated and nearly feral; that is what had caused her pain.

She had needed space; an opportunity to get out of the heavily guarded house. For a brief moment she had considered going to her father’s house to visit Juliet, but she did not want to risk any questions from her father. If she went to Alice, Barbara, or Helena’s, they too would not be satisfied with her “just paying a visit” and would demand all sorts of answers.

Finally, she decided to go riding. Laura also seemed relieved by this plan and was happy to come along as her chaperone. They’d packed plenty of food and water, and instead of being wild with their horses, they had enjoyed a long, peaceful ride in the early fall weather. Although the weather and ride had indeed soothed her body, it had done little to soothe the worry in her mind and spirit.

“Your Grace, forgive me,” Laura said presently, “But perhaps our escort is correct. The stars are beginning to come out and we still have quite a journey to get back. I am…”

She paused, looking around them in the dimming light.

“I am not even sure we are in Frampton anymore, Your Grace,” she added, her tone low as if sharing a secret.

Lydia stopped her horse then and drew her attention to her surroundings. The day had come and gone, as had the light. She was alarmed to find the sky had settled into a deep purple-orange swirl, and there were indeed a few dozen stars starting to twinkle in the cosmos.

“I suppose we should,” she finally agreed, feeling a tremor of nervousness in her stomach as she spoke.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, shedidwant to see Ezra, even if only to get mad at him.

“Very well, Brennan, lead us home,” Lydia said, turning her horse around.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” the guard replied, obviously relieved to be taking her back.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“What do you mean she is not there?” Ezra bellowed.

Lydia had left, and according to the guards, she had been gone since nearly eight that morning. It was now eleven at night, and his messengers had just returned with word that Lydia had not been seen at her father’s nor any of their friends’ houses. The messenger from Owen’s had been the last to arrive, and he had leveraged the remainder of his sanity on the hope that he would have word of her whereabouts.

“Please forgive me, Your Grace,” the messenger replied, bowing deeply, “But Lord Knight was insistent that he had not seen the Duchess of Frampton in weeks.”

He had torn out of Frampton like a demon released from hell and had raced to London to deliver the proof that George and Whittler were one and the same. However, when Duncan informed him that George had been spotted in Frampton, all care foranyproof vanished from Ezra’s mind as he stormed back to Ambrose’s stables.

His brothers had chased after him, pleading with him to rest before another ride or to at least take a carriage, but he only put up with their words long enough to saddle a horse.

“At least wait for us,” Ambrose insisted as Ezra had slung himself up into the saddle. “We can go with you, we can deal with this together.”

“Get to Frampton when you can,” he said, before racing once more down the road.

Now he was here, with word that George was in his very town, and Lydia was nowhere to be found. Had she left or been kidnapped? Had she gone somewhere on the grounds to find some space? One of the guards had gone with her, a young man named Brennan, and she had also taken her handmaid Laura. At least she was not completely alone. If she had been attacked, someone would have been there to protect her.

“Have your men search the grounds again,” Ezra commanded the guard after sending the messenger away.

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