Page 6 of Duke of Chaos

“Not just about raising my voice,” Juliet replied, “About keeping this secret from you, from Papa. Perhaps if Edmund and I had handled the situation better we could have wed before he left. But it got so confusing so fast that neither of us could grasp control. And now, now Papa is basically selling me to the Duke of Frampton. I hear the rumors of him too, sister. They do not fall on deaf ears, I assure you.”

Lydia’s mind reeled as she took in her sister’s secret. It would be awful to have Juliet wed Ezra even without the news of her love for Edmund, but now? Now shehadto make sure Ezra would not pursue her. She did not know this Edmund Juliet spoke of, but any man worth his salt would fight for Juliet, and Ezra was just the type of man to put a bullet through his chest with glee.

“I will run away. I will talk to Alice. I will…”

“No,” Lydia said softly, pulling herself from her thoughts.

She reached for Juliet’s hands and took them into her own, squeezing gently.

“I will handle this, Juliet. I promise you.”

Lydia said her words with as much confidence as possible and when she saw the look of relief on Juliet’s face, she knew she had lied beautifully.

“Lady Lydia Knight,” Ezra mused, taking a slow measure of the woman standing before him. “Tell me, is it customary for elder sisters to make house calls to their sisters’ suitors? Or have you interpreted the name Lady Knight as possessing a different meaning?”

The milk and honey flesh below Lydia’s freckles heated into a soft pink as she glared at him, but she tilted her chin upward in defiance. His meeting with Juliet had admittedly went as poorly as he’d expected, but he was still both amused and curious when his valet, Caleb, informed him thatLydiawas his late-night visitor.

“I am not even going to honor that question with a response,” Lydia replied coldly, still standing in her hooded cloak. “What we have to discuss is of much higher importance than your putrid sense of humor.”

“Oh, dear,” Ezra drawled, turning away from her and toward his drink cart, “What vile words from such a prim lady. Duncan and Alice made you seem quite proper, but I see you have them completely fooled.”

Ezra took his time pouring his drink and when he finally turned back to Lydia he saw her rage. The look of it, thefeelof it, stirred something deep inside him, so much so that he had to hitch a breath. He had seen her many times since Alice had become a part of their little orphaned family, but never like this. Never so bold, so fearless, so icily beautiful that even he could feel the chill of it.

His mother Sophia had been beautiful and cold as well. Still was, he was sure of it. And yet, somehow, Lydia was so different from her. Not vain or greedy, but pure and righteous. He knew what she was here for; to dissuade him from marrying Juliet, just as she had tried to dissuade Alice from wedding Duncan.

“Under normal circumstances I would proudly be the model of primness, Your Grace,” Lydia told him with an air of her usual respect, “But as you have created an unusual circumstance I am not so dimwitted as to simply approach you with pretty manners.”

“I am…almost impressed,” Ezra could not help but admit as he raised his glass to his lips.

Lydia untied her hooded cloak and let it slip from her shoulders, revealing her simple dress from earlier, but the sight made Ezra’s glass freeze before he tipped it back. Her long, lightgolden-brown hair was unbound, tendrils escaping and curling around her shoulders and down to her elbows. He’d never seen her like this before. Normally every hair was pinned properly into place and above her neck.

He suddenly imagined what it would feel like to slide his fingers into those locks of inviting hair.

She has never been touched, he realized with awe as the fantasy continued. Of course, she would not let anyone touch her. Not a woman like her. Ezra suddenly imagined how many men had tried and failed to woo her. There must have been dozens. But with him…

Lydia would tremble under his touch, perhaps gasp at how profoundly gentle he could be. He would stroke his fingers behind her ears, over the back of her skull, and then down her spine until she melted into his touch. Then he would gently take a fistful of those silken strands and give them just the slightest of tugs. He’d watch as her eyes sparked, and her lips opened in an aroused gasp as she felt the sharp, small pain.

“Could you please do me the courtesy of at least pretending to listen to me?” Lydia snapped at him, pulling him from his thoughts.

Alarmed at how deep he’d fallen into such a tame fantasy, Ezra let a sneer slip from his lips before he returned to his drink and emptied the glass in one swallow. As the alcohol cleared his head he let out a growling cough and returned his stare to its usual dead-eyed expression.

“You interruptedmyevening, not the other way around,” he replied numbly. “If my attention is not on you it is then apparent it is somewhere else, is it not? You shall need to say something more enticing to capture it.”

That flare of gold and bronze leaped from her green eyes again, and she stormed toward him like a goddess on a rampage. Without preamble, she closed the space between them, clutched hold of his chin, and tilted him down until he was incapable of avoiding her stare.

“My sister,” Lydia stated, pronouncing each word clearly, “Youwilllet her go from this marriage contract.”

Ezra felt an ache rise in his jaw as his body suddenly blazed alive from her touch. Desire, lust, the need to bury himself in something was a sensation he suffered from, every minute of every day. He had trained himself to exercise restraint and control, as most proper men do until he could address his needs at a more appropriate time. But now…now if he was not careful, he’d crush the glass in his hand and tear a hole in his trousers.

“No,” he purred, his gaze unmoving from hers. Even if she was affecting him, he would not let her know it.

He could easily move away from her touch. With a simple hold on her wrist, he could loosen her grip on his chin and pin her to the wall. Yet he stayed where he was, immediately addicted to this new and delicious torture, and was rewarded when Lydia gripped his chin harder as rage poured from her glittering eyes.

“What do you need her for?” Lydia demanded.

“I need a wife,” Ezra replied, pretending a bored shrug.

Lydia laughed condescendingly as she let go of his chin with a little push. It sent a hot, lightning-like sensation through his entire jaw and down the muscled column of his neck, and he had to stop himself from reaching up to touch where her fingers had just been.

---