Page 71 of Duke of Chaos

“Why, it is just getting interesting,” Ezra spat out, but he did not fight or argue when Colter and Terrence came forward to stand George up.

“Wait a minute, you cannot have me arrested,” George said, suddenly fighting against the two men’s grips. “I will deny everything!”

“Your man will not,” Morgan replied bitterly. “We have him, and we are certain we can persuade him into a confession.”

“No,” George said, beginning to fight harder as he was yanked to his feet, “No, I am not done talking. That is not the entire story. It is not just me!”

“Then you can tell that to the constables,” Ambrose retorted.

“I will tell them!” George began to yell as he was dragged away. “I will tell them of this place!”

“Go ahead,” Ezra drawled, regaining his composure, “We will all laugh about it when they come in for cards next week.”

He looked over to Ambrose then and nodded.

“You were right. It is time he stops talking.”

He turned to Terrence, sliding his hands coolly in his pockets.

“Terrence, be a good lad and gag him, would you?”

“No, no, no, no,” George began to pant and tried to pull away from the gag, “You are making a mistake! You are making a huge mist…mmppphhh!!!”

George’s words dissolved into muffles as Terrence shoved a cloth into his mouth and then bound another across his lips. He lunged one last time at them as he was dragged to the door, but when Colter’s fist connected with his gut, he finally stopped fighting and let himself be dragged from the room.

“Ezra, Duncan, sit,” Ambrose demanded, shutting the door as both of them walked toward it.

“I need to get back to Frampton,” Ezra said.

“I need to see, Lydia.”

“We all need to get back there,” Ambrose agreed, “But you two need to hear some things first.”

Ezra and Duncan exchanged a look as if they’d simultaneously recalled the years of chastising they’d received from the oldest orphan and sat down.

“Duncan, no vengeance you put into George will ever equal what you so painfully survived. Your hatred is valid, but youmustallow this to be handled properly.”

Duncan glared down at the floor, his scarred face still exposed. Then, after a moment of silence, he reached for his mask, pulled it over his face, and then nodded.

“Ezra,” Ambrose said next, turning his attention to him.

Ezra met his eyes numbly, but inside, he felt the conflict between detachment and emotion waging war once more.

“You are not like your father. None of us were. As good or as bad as we thought they once were, we know now that we could never be like them. You are not him, Lydia is not your mother, and you are not destroying her by being her husband.”

Ezra’s fingers dug into the arms of the chair.

“You all thought like him once,” Ezra stated objectively. “You thought I would ruin Lydia.”

“That was a mistake,” Morgan mumbled, guilt etching his face.

“A horrible one,” Ambrose agreed, “One we will all happily pay for over and over if necessary.”

Despite the war waging inside him, Ezra felt the sincerity in his friends’ words.

“I hope you are right,” Ezra said, standing up. “But there is only truly one way to know. Come, it is time we all get back to our wives.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

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