Page 68 of Duke of Chaos

“And you,” Lydia said, tugging Ezra’s face back to hers once more. “No more stab wounds or strangulations. Understood?”

“Only punches,” he teased, tapping his still bruised nose.

“I mean it,” Lydia whispered, pressing herself to him one last time.

“I know you do,” he replied, his tone growing sincere. “Trust me, Lydia, it is notusthat is going to be harmed.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“You nasty little pricks,” George spat out through heaving breaths.

“You all right, Ambrose?” Ezra asked his friend, ignoring their captor’s insult.

“Not really,” Ambrose grunted, gently holding a rag to his broken nose. “Barbara reallyisgoing to kill me.”

Ezra chuckled dryly as he remembered Barbara’s threat to Ambrose and turned back to George. They’d found him along the road shortly after nightfall, heading away from the brothel and toward Bath in an unmarked carriage. It had been pure luck that the man had chosen to open the curtains as Ezra and the others had ridden by on their horses. He had gotten in one solid hit before they had ridden back and dragged him out, and unfortunately, it was to Ambrose’s face.

Morgan, in his usual suave if not comical manner, had flashed a fistful of pounds in the carriage driver’s face, and the man was all too happy to forget what he saw and take one of their horses back to the brothel. Morgan then climbed up onto the driver’s seat and drove the carriage to the gaming hell while Ezra, Duncan, and Ambrose began with their questioning.

George now kneeled across from them, hands bound behind his back and his face and shirt bloodied as the four dukes all stared down at him.

“All right, Georgie boy,” Ezra sighed, giving him a bored look, “Calling us little pricks is not going to make this situation any better for you.”

Arrogant cucks,” George sneered, blood and spittle dripping from his lips.

Before Ezra could react he saw Duncan’s foot fly out and kick the man directly in the chest, making him gasp and cough as he was thrown backward. From the doorway, Colter and Terrence snickered but otherwise continued guarding the door.

“That was not very nice,” Duncan mused, his tone taunting.

“The next one is mine,” Ambrose said, his gaze deadly as he looked at George.

“Why did you kill our fathers?” Morgan asked, getting straight to the point. “You were their business associate and their friend.What did you need from them so badly that you simply could not ask them?”

George’s rueful laugh twisted into a cough as he turned his feral glare toward them.

“Yes, your fathers were such glorious, righteous men, weren’t they?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ezra threw a furtive look toward his brothers, noticing how they all shifted subtly in their seats.

“No man is perfect,” Ambrose said carefully.

“Obviously,” George seethed, nodding his head toward the room they were in. “I see you’ve followed in their footsteps and immersed yourselves in the dirtier sorts of business to finance your lavish lifestyles.”

Ezra watched Ambrose’s gaze harden.

“So, what? Did our fathers cut you out of a deal?” Ezra asked dully, not allowing them to lose track. “Chose not to include you one time when they’d promised they would?”

“They cut me out ofthedeal!” George snarled, glaring directly at Ezra. “We worked foryearsputting together a setup that would make us millions, and when it was time to finally get a payout, they cut me out! I am an earl, a nobleman just like you, and yet itwasIthat had to get my hands dirty for the good of the deal and then dropped for doing what I had to do!”

Ezra’s stomach twisted. His businesses were not exactly pristine; The gaming hell, his share in the flesh market, the illegal barters and trades. He could certainly not judge others in similar lines of business.

“You need to stop acting like a blathering idiot and give us specifics,” Ezra demanded, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “What were the five of you up to?”

He coolly met George’s glare, unfazed by his obvious hatred. Something shifted in George’s gaze as they challenged one another. It wasn’t regret, but something akin to it.

“We were providing passage to the Irish,” George grumbled, finally breaking his stare. “To the Americas.”

“Which passage?” Ezra asked slowly, a memory pinging in his mind. A horrific event in the papers; thousands of innocent people died. The boats they were on had just broken apart like toys.

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