Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“ I believe I am expected,” Lucien told Lord Stockton’s butler with a sardonic smile.
The man tried to shut the door in his face. It was an admirable effort, but Lucien pushed his way in.
“And if I am not expected, then I should be. You may tell your master that he is lucky I won’t leave his home the way he left mine.”
The butler nodded quickly, silently gesturing for Lucien to follow him. He pointed to the drawing room, and Lucien rounded the doorway with ease.
“Stockton.”
“Ah. Stormhold.”
Walter Davis, the Earl of Stockton, with his graying, thinning hair, lounged back in a square-shaped leather chair, mindlessly sipping brandy.
“I believe my butler was under orders not to let you through my door,” he muttered, fixing Lucien with a glare that did not have the desired effect.
Lucien pretended to brush lint off his jacket, ultimately unbothered. “He tried. I only returned the favor of how you entered Montgomery Manor—uninvited and intruding.”
Lord Stockton gave a small, harsh laugh. “I see. You have indeed involved yourself with the girl, then. I hoped my little gift proved useful.”
Lucien possessed a lifetime of experience in mastering his expression, so at the mention of Lady Edwina, and Lord Stockton all but admitting to putting them together in the private room, he struggled not to show anything. Yet, his insides burned with rage at the way the man was all but boasting about being a puppeteer.
“Stay away from the Montgomeries,” Lucien warned him.
“Both of them or just the girl?” Lord Stockton asked, grinning cruelly. “Rumors say that her brother is rarely seen around.”
“I have heard that you saw plenty when you entered the home of an unmarried lady—when she was there alone. I imagine that will not do many good things to your reputation.”
Lord Stockton’s face fell. “That is not how it?—”
“Says who?” Lucien drawled. “For soon, the ton will know that I am residing in their home, and I will corroborate the story. That you, Lord Stockton, entered Montgomery Manor uninvited and blackmailed Lady Edwina while she was alone, forcing her into a position most uncomfortable for a lady of her station. Do you make such a habit of that?”
Lord Stockton turned red in anger. “Her—her brother was there!” he sputtered.
Lucien stalked forward, his glare cutting as he loomed over the Earl. “Make no mistake, Stockton, for this is only a bit of fun. I do not need to blackmail you to make my message clear. You, however, clearly needed to. But you crossed a smart lady, and now she has my protection. They both do. You will leave them alone, or what you did to my home will look like a small mess compared to the damage I will wreak on your comfortable life here.”
He pointedly looked around the room before he began to walk away.
But he was stopped by Lord Stockton’s voice. “This is not over!”
Lucien shot him a self-satisfied smile over his shoulder. “Oh, it very much is.”
Edwina gasped awake to yet another noise, except this time it was not raised voices.
No, this time it was one voice—a muffled scream, the type that she had grown used to.
“Another night terror,” she whispered to herself, quickly slipping out of bed.
She grabbed her robe from the foot of her bed, where she had discarded it before falling asleep, and rushed out of her room and down the hallway.
Her thoughts were not even on Lucien or what he might think, but on her brother, on his night terrors. When she finally reached his door, she was surprised to find that somebody had already beaten her to it.
“What is happening?” Lucien demanded as he stood in front of Nicholas’s door.
“Night terrors,” Edwina snapped, thankful that this part, at least, was not only caused by laudanum but also memories from the war. “You have never seen a man endure such things?”
Lucien shook his head.
Inside, the screams had tapered off, leaving Edwina only with the Duke to focus on. And to notice his shirtless state, and the way his breeches hung loosely on his hips.
Her mouth ran dry at the sharply defined ridges of his abdomen, which vanished scandalously beneath the waistband of his breeches. A dark copper line of hair led from his navel to his breeches. For a moment, Edwina followed it with her eyes, imagining how much further that alluring trail of hair went.
In turn, she felt his gaze cut right through her, roving over her thin nightgown. The look he gave her was heated, pinning her in place. She did not care that he had caught her staring—she did only stare, and she swallowed at the sight of him so underdressed.
What would it be like to trail her lips over those deep-cut grooves and bite?—
“Lady Edwina.” The Duke’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she snapped to attention. He had his hand on the door handle. “When you have stopped ogling me, you might realize that Nicholas’s door is locked. Is this usual?”
Nervous, Edwina shook her head.
She moved to the door and knocked. “Nicholas?”
There was no answer, and her heart began to beat faster.
“Nicholas.”
Again, nothing, so she banged on the door, worrying.
“Nick!”
She rarely called her brother that—a slip of the tongue in a moment of sheer panic, from their younger years.
She slammed her palm on the door over and over to no avail.
“Move aside,” the Duke ordered, his gaze fixed on her.
“What?”
“Move aside. I’m going to break down the door.”
No sooner had Edwina moved—more out of shock at what the Duke intended to do than anything—than he slammed his boot into the door, breaking it down.
It swung open, revealing an empty room.
But… that wasn’t right.
Edwina had heard her brother’s screams. She pushed past the Duke and into Nicholas’s room, taking in the empty, wrinkled sheets, tangled up almost into a ball.
She had been right to be scared when Nicholas had left the house that morning. However, she had long learned to find peace in his absence and trust that he would find a way to be all right, or she would worry herself to death every moment of the day.
But this…
Where was he?
That was when she noticed the curtains billowing.
“My Lady.”
The Duke’s voice came from behind her, but she didn’t turn to look back, knowing that he was seeing the same thing.
Nicholas’s window had been shattered, and glass was strewn everywhere. A small scrap of fabric had gotten caught in one shard.
Edwina ran to the window, but the Duke beat her to it.
“Careful,” he told her, holding out his arm to keep her back from the glass.
Closer to the damage, she could see that the shards still attached to the window frame had splatters of blood on them.
Her breath caught. Terror gripped her in a vise, wrapping around her ribs as she shoved the Duke’s arm away and leaned out of the window to look into the gardens beyond. A scared voice told her that her brother had fallen, that he was sprawled on the ground, covered by shadows and darkness, and she would not see him until it was too late.
But there was no body, no blood, no sign of struggle except for the broken window.
Running out of the room, Edwina did not have a plan. She only knew that she had to find her brother. Until the Duke stepped in front of the door, blocking her path.
“What do you think you are doing?” he asked, his voice calm and quiet in the still, dark room.
How did Edwina feel so trapped when her home was so empty? Was it her guilt over being in a room, alone with a man, unchaperoned?
“What do you think you are doing?” she snapped. “Get out of my way!”
“Lady Edwina?—”
“I must get dressed and find my brother,” she insisted, her voice high-pitched with urgency.
The Duke didn’t understand— he just did not understand —and there was no way she could make him understand without revealing her brother’s addiction. That, for now, was not hers to confess.
“You are doing no such thing.” His voice was deep, velvety, and Edwina found herself mesmerized, almost complying. “The hour is late, and you are a lady. Without even the mention of danger, you must know that you will attract attention.”
Edwina snapped out of the spell, shoving against him. “You cannot expect me to sit idly by and hope that he is all right! You may hate Nicholas, but he is my brother, and I believe in loyalty.”
“Where do you even propose we begin the search? Taverns? Inns? Gambling hells? You cannot go into those places alone.”
“So you will have me sit on my bed, silent and pliant, agonizing over the hours until he returns? Do not patronize me, Your Grace.”
“I am not suggesting you stay here,” the Duke told her, pushing off the doorframe. “I am only suggesting that going alone is a fool’s errand.”
“If that is what brings my brother home, then so be it.”
“Fine,” he bit out. “We will look for your brother together.”
Edwina paused, eyeing him. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I said that I cut ties with your brother, not that I didn’t care if he was injured or hurt.”
His eyes roamed over her, flickering with an unfathomable emotion, as if there was another reason why he insisted on joining her.
After a moment, he spoke again. “And I will make sure that you are protected, as I promised.”
With that, he retreated to his rooms. The door did not swing shut quickly enough to prevent her from seeing the muscles in his back flexing as he reached for his shirt.
Her cheeks burning, she turned her thoughts back to her brother.
It was only as she dressed and descended the stairs that she realized that the Duke of Stormhold had sworn to protect her. She frowned. Was this his choice, to see her safe? To care for her while disguising it as looking out for her brother?
She pushed the thoughts aside as soon as the Duke strode past her, out of the door, using the servants’ entrance so they could avoid as much detection as possible.
Lady Edwina did not ask about Lucien’s declaration of protection. He had threatened Lord Stockton, but he could curse himself for letting his guard down back in the hallway.
He was a rigidly strong man, yet the sight of Lady Edwina flushed, in her thin nightgown, had slowly undone him until he craved to stay next to her for far longer.
He was not happy about Nicholas’s disappearance, but his concerns were more directed at the duress the selfish bastard kept putting his sister under.
Something else was afoot, and Lucien was not sure what it was. Both siblings seemed so intent on keeping it to themselves. All he could do was try to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
As they ventured into the city center, Lucien had questioned Lady Edwina on her brother’s usual haunts, while filling in the gaps of her knowledge with his own, as outdated as it may have been.
“And you’re sure these are the only places he frequents?” Lucien asked. “An earl often networks extensively, covering as many locations as he could. Limiting himself to a handful is most unusual.”
He caught her lowering her eyes as she nodded.
“If there is more you are not divulging, then you are only slowing down our investigation and your brother’s safe return.”
He pushed open the door to one of the gambling dens Lady Edwina had mentioned first. She had claimed that her brother had been somewhat desperate when he inherited the earldom, trying to earn money without soliciting investors. He had light coffers as it was; he could not afford to invest.
But he could afford to gamble . Honorable to do such wasteful things with his inheritance.
Lady Edwina said nothing, only preceded him inside. Upon entering, she stiffened as she looked at the clientele.
“If you still think your brother deserves a thousand pardons,” Lucien murmured, “then do enlighten me.”
However, Lady Edwina only met his gaze with a steely intent and walked deeper into the den.
Lucien detested places like these—dark corners and shady deals, money for favors passed under tables while just as much cheating took place over tables. Fights went unchecked, and most debts were accrued here.
Lucien, despite his resentment towards Nicholas, hoped that they would not find him there. If Nicholas was indebted to anyone in there, then funds were never collected with patience or grace.
They were collected with fists and weapons if no payment was made.
He met the glare of every lowlife gambling what little worth they had and was surprised by the number of well-dressed men in there.
“If they have money,” Lady Edwina murmured, “why do they frequent places like this?”
“Because they need more power to socially climb, but they have likely been barred from every respectable gambling hell in London.”
“I hope my brother is not here,” she muttered as they moved through the tables in the dark establishment.
“My Lady, are you lost?” one man called out from the table next to them, searching the shadows.
He grinned in a way that made Lucien take a step closer to her. His eyes flicked to Lucien, only to return to Lady Edwina.
“Don’t want no pretty lady getting lost in places like this one. Dangerous, they are.” As he spoke, he stood up.
Lady Edwina took a step back. Lucien’s hand twitched. He was ready to push her behind him if things escalated, but he also wanted to keep the other man calm.
“I’d be happy to show you the way to my residence,” the man continued, before laughing darkly and reaching in his pocket. Something glinted in the candlelight from his table. “You have that look that says you might not mind bending over?—”
Lucien was on him in an instant, his hand clamped around the man’s wrist. He slammed the man’s hand on the table, forcing him to let go of the knife he had taken out of his pocket.
“Apologize to her,” he snarled into the lowlife’s face.
Behind him, Lady Edwina began to protest. “Your Grace, let us leave. He is not here.”
The man’s expression shifted upon hearing Lucien’s title. “Who are you looking for? Perhaps I can help for a coin or two.”
“You can help in exchange for walking out of here unharmed.”
The man spat at him, missing his face by an inch. He laughed darkly. “You would not do that. Not a duke like you. Wouldn’t want to tarnish that gleaming reputation, now, would you?”
“My reputation is very much protected,” Lucien answered. “And yours? What title are you dishonoring here? What family do you neglect providing for while you squander your money in here?”
“Doesn’t matter.” The man laughed. “I’ll tell people that you were here, though. But… I could be persuaded otherwise if you let me have an hour with your lady back there.”
Lucien saw red. His grip on the man’s wrist tightened until the man cried out.
He glanced to the side. “Notice how nobody comes to your aid?” he scoffed. “That alone proves that you do not matter, no matter what lies you spill. You will leave the lady alone.”
He glared at the man before releasing him. Then, he turned back to Lady Edwina, whose face had gone pale.
“We are done here,” he told her, straightening his jacket.