Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“ Y ou have kidnapped me,” Edwina protested, her voice high-pitched with disbelief as she turned to look out the back of the carriage.
The Raven’s Den disappeared behind them as the wheels rolled forward.
Edwina tried to ignore the tremors coursing through her body. Whether it was from the shame of her terrible seduction, fear of Lord Stockton catching her, worry over her brother being under the stress of knowing she had gone out today to help him with his debts, or fear of the Duke sitting beside her, she did not know.
The handsome Duke with rich, green eyes and a rough-looking beard that she felt was at odds with his appearance and would prove to be soft and?—
Heavens, why am I thinking of the softness of his beard ?
Instead, she redirected her thoughts to where they needed to be.
Her stomach twisted with anxiety as she turned back to face the Duke of Stormhold. His jaw was clenched as he seemed to fight the urge to answer her.
“Oh, please,” he muttered, casting a withering glance at her. “You are the one who attempted to swindle me.”
“It was for my family’s sake! My brother’s sake,” she protested. “You know Nicholas—the man you used to be close friends with.”
Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and she was intrigued to know why his eyes had darkened at her mention of her brother.
The Duke scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Ah, yes, my very close friend, who betrayed me.”
“He betrayed you? Excuse me, Your Grace, but you have the nerve to accuse him of such a thing when you abandoned him in his time of need.”
He laughed sardonically, fixing her with a look that suddenly made her feel off-kilter.
“Nicholas is the one who cut ties with me upon returning from the war. You know, your brother used to be a man of honor. Now, I see that he is a coward who sends his sister to clean up his mess while he hides behind his title.”
Edwina was shocked, but she fought the urge to snap at him.
The Duke could not know about her brother’s addiction. She would not tell him about the sleepless nights she’d spent when her brother had chased London’s darker streets for another hit of laudanum. When he had found solace in the back streets among other addicts. She would not tell him about the mornings when her brother had stumbled into their home, his eyes dark with exhaustion, and yet a horrible, delusional grin on his face moments before he had collapsed.
It had been Edwina who had hauled her brother off the floor through all of that. It was she who had done her best to care for him and keep his addiction a secret. If she had to endure Lord Stockton, then she would have seen that through, too.
Now, the Duke of Stormhold had ruined that, and that terrified her. For now she had nothing else to offer if he decided not to trust her again.
“You do not know him anymore,” she told him. “You abandoned him when he needed you most.”
“Abandoned?” he repeated as if insulted by the accusation. “Nicholas pushed everyone away. You do not know half of it, My Lady.”
If only he knew .
“Physical injuries are not the only things a man is left with after leaving the army,” Edwina countered.
“I reached out so many times. A door was slammed in my face so many times. My letters went unanswered. I tried to be there for him, so, no, you do not get to accuse me.”
“And you did not stop to think that you may have needed to keep trying?”
“For how long?” he scoffed. “I tried endlessly. Accuse me if you need to appease yourself, or see your brother as honorable, but I assure you that he is not.”
“I know enough about my brother’s honor,” she snapped, tense and defensive.
Edwina did not blame her brother for struggling with his addiction, but sometimes carrying the burden weighed on her.
“And what of my honor?” the Duke shot back.
“I do not care about it.” Edwina looked away from him, but his silence made her glance back.
Her stomach flipped when she found his eyes on her, pinning her to her seat. Her fingernails dug into the leather beneath her so hard that she thought she might pierce it.
“You do not?”
“No.”
And yet her breath quickened when he leaned closer.
“You should broaden your consideration for those who tried to be there for Nicholas, who offered to help him reintegrate into Society, only to be turned away. For weeks, I came here and tried to convince Nicholas to stay at Stormhold Hall to slowly reintroduce himself, to get his bearings again. Do not judge what you do not completely know.”
“I would give you the same advice,” Edwina huffed, trying to ignore how fast her heart was beating.
“Do it,” the Duke challenged, raising an eyebrow.
But how could she focus when he leaned closer as if upping the stakes? God, she could not recall a great deal about him, but she found she did not care. Not when her only experience with him might be this carriage ride, with her breathing heavy and her body burning.
“You cannot, can you?” he murmured, his voice dropping. She glared at him, swallowing. “For you have been taught to be polite, to be a lady, to respect those above you in Society. So, do go on, My Lady. Do tell me how I should not judge what I do not know.”
Edwina opened her mouth to retort, but her voice failed her. Not because she could not respond, but because she struggled to find one word to say when those eyes saw right through her, whittling her down. When those eyes dropped to her mouth.
The Duke fell silent, and his gaze flicked to hers, only to flick back to her lips. Then, he leaned in, as he had in the private room.
Heavens …
Edwina did not expect to want such a thing so badly.
The Duke of Stormhold’s face came closer, only to stop when the driver’s voice announced that they had arrived at the townhouse.
Was that disappointment and annoyance that flashed in his eyes?
With a growl, he said, “Follow me.”
The Duke helped Edwina out of the carriage, and she immediately noticed the chaos across the front lawn.
The gate hung off its hinges, footprints had trampled through the trimmed grass, and it looked as though large weapons had been dragged through the rest of the soil.
The Duke looked around, cursing as the butler rushed to the door.
“Your Grace,” the butler called out, beckoning him over. “You must come inside, quickly.”
Edwina followed the Duke, and she gasped when she saw a group of footmen leaning against the wall, their faces pale, some of them bleeding from their heads.
Inside, the entrance hall was ruined. Potted plants had been smashed, and soil and ceramic were scattered across the stone floor. A mirror had been smashed, and several pieces of furniture had been cut open, the stuffing ripped out. A table hung at an angle, one leg snapped off.
Groove marks were carved into the walls, as though a blade had gouged them.
“What happened?” the Duke demanded, staring around at the damage.
“We do not know,” the butler confessed. “Some of the footmen only reported seeing men barge through the gate, and I did not even have a chance to block them. They stormed into the house, threatening any of us who got in their way. They went into the study.”
“The study?” The Duke’s voice was quiet, and Edwina looked at him.
She’d been watching a group of shaken-up maids, and she wished to go to them, to check if they were all right.
Guilt gnawed at her. This had to have something to do with Lord Stockton, for he had not shown up after sending her to the Duke, of all people, and the Duke’s townhouse was targeted at the same time.
She couldn’t dwell on her questions, for the Duke tore off down the hall, and she hiked up her skirts and ran after him.
She could have caused someone’s death tonight, all because she had not let the Duke leave earlier.
All because she had distracted him without realizing why .
Lucien burst into his study, scarcely aware of Lady Edwina on his heels.
It was a disaster, with papers and debris strewn everywhere.
“Your Grace, I am sorry,” Lady Edwina whispered, but he barely paid her any mind, not as he ran to a particular spot and tore back the carpet runner.
The wedge of paper he kept in there to know if anybody had ever opened the trapdoor beneath was still intact. He didn’t dare open it in front of Lady Edwina, but he was relieved that his most important affairs had not been stolen or tampered with.
After fixing the carpet, aware of the lady’s questioning eyes on him, he strode to his desk and yanked open every drawer, quickly checking their contents before slamming them shut.
Frustration bubbled up inside him. Some money had been taken out of the drawers, even the hidden compartment in the bottom drawer, but it was barely a speck against his fortune.
He sat down behind his desk, hating that someone had rifled through his belongings. He clenched his jaw and turned his scowl on Lady Edwina.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.
“Because my house is a priority,” he answered. “I had a feeling you were a distraction, but it seems you were misled as well.”
Lady Edwina swallowed, her gulp audible, and bit her lip.
“I am sorry, Your Grace. For your staff and the commotion, I apologize. But I had no choice, you see. You must understand, and I truly did not know this would happen.”
He could detect the sincerity in her voice because he was already learning how her faux confidence and lies sounded.
He nodded, aloof. Standing up, he briefly took note of her curious gaze as he walked towards her.
“I am done here. I am taking you back to your home.”
Without another word, he strode out of his study, knowing she would have no choice but to follow him.
Montgomery Manor was not how Lucien recalled it.
They were led inside by a harried-looking butler, who began to speak, only to take one look at Lucien’s shocked state and clam up.
Lucien could not help but be quietly stunned by the state of the place.
Wallpaper peeled off in spirals in the corners of walls, and the painted ceiling was faded and yellowing in many places, as though a fresh coat was due years ago but had not been applied. The furniture was worn and faded, stained and fraying at the seams, and he noticed how cold and empty the townhouse felt.
It had not been like that when he had last come here.
The uncertain look Lady Edwina gave him over her shoulder said just how aware she was of the difference he was noticing. As soon as their eyes met, she turned her head away.
From down the hallway, a maid walked towards them, her head bent slightly.
“Lady Edwina, shall I have tea prepared for you? The drawing room has not been cleaned yet, but I finished cleaning the parlor. If you can wait, I can serve your tea and then continue?—”
“All is well, Jane,” Lady Edwina chirped, her tone a touch too bright.
Lucien frowned, noting the strained smile and tone he had been greeted with in the private room at the Raven’s Den.
“I do not believe our guest will be staying?—”
“On the contrary,” he interrupted, irritation coiling in his stomach as he noted the lack of staff and the fact that the maid was overworked.
“Jane, leave us and continue with the drawing room?” Lady Edwina asked tightly. “Calloway, I believe there are some duties you may help Jane with.”
A look passed between her and the butler, as if the man knew something Jane did not. That, perhaps, a butler should not do the work of a maid. But he only nodded and retreated after the maid.
Hence Lucien was left alone with the lady of the house, who looked overwhelmed.
“These are the conditions you have been living in?” he asked, keeping his voice low in case there were other servants around.
He did not believe it; he just did not want to assume.
“And you thought coming to me would solve your problems?”
Lady Edwina, the proud thing that he was learning she was, kept her chin raised, her eyes turned away in what seemed to be arrogance. But it was the expression of a woman unwilling to set her pride aside.
She was just as stubborn as he recalled her brother to be.
Lucien let out a groan. “I am moving in.”
Her head snapped towards him, and her eyes narrowed. “No! You cannot just?—”
“One week,” he told her. “I will stay for one week, and I will help you get your household in order. I’ll find you some connections you need, and once I am sure that you are not one step away from ruin, I will be gone.”