Trapped with the Forbidden Duke (Forbidden Lords #5)

Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

“ Y our cravat matches my dress,” Edwina noted, trying not to stare for too long at the handsome smirk Lucien gave her.

Although it was not a full smirk, but one that slightly tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Lord and Lady Fairfax were to host their first ball after their wedding, having recently wed and retreated to their countryside estate.

Lily had finished preparing Edwina for the ball, draping her in a beautiful gown of amethyst, where the hem at the top of her bodice and sleeves was a lighter shade of pink that glimmered.

Edwina had noticed a shadow falling over the doorway. Quickly, Lily excused herself, leaving her to meet her husband’s reflection in the mirror.

“It seems Harold conferred with your lady’s maid,” Lucien began, his voice low, as he pushed off the doorframe and stepped into her room.

His slow gait had her breathless, and she could only blame it on her tight corset. She ran her gaze over him, taking in his neatly combed auburn hair, his stiff collar, and his dark waistcoat. It was such a dark green that it was nearly black, and she could not help but notice how the garments clung to his body perfectly.

A body she had already run her hands over, right before he had pressed her against the wall and pleasured her.

“What are you thinking of?” Lucien raised an eyebrow at her, his smirk widening.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “You look well.”

“Well?” he echoed, laughing. “I was going to tell you that you look exquisite, but perhaps we are trading average compliments.”

“Do not be foolish,” she muttered, waving him off with a bashful grin. “You look handsome. Dashing. Ever-so-charming, my vain husband.”

“Mhm,” he said, stepping closer. “That is better.”

He approached her, and she could not help but think of her visit to the village a week ago, of the comments everybody had made about him—how kind and generous, how selfless, and how caring he was.

“Do you wish to know what I was thinking?” he asked.

“I assume you will tell me anyway.”

“Indeed.” He leaned closer, his nose brushing the underside of her soft jaw. An almost inaudible groan tore from his throat.

He likes my scent .

It was something she had noticed during their moment in the hallway—he seemed almost enchanted by her scent.

“I was thinking that your dress clings to your every curve, and I am rather jealous of it,” he murmured.

“The last time we spoke about one another, you all but reminded me of our convenient marriage,” she pointed out. “What is there to be jealous of? I am your wife in name only. All duty.”

Her tone was teasing, for what had transpired in the hallway had certainly not been duty, but she found she enjoyed goading him. She could see that he did not detect the tease at first.

“Come to my chambers tonight, and I shall show you what my duty entails.”

“Is that an invitation, husband, or a command?”

“It is an invitation if you wish to decline, but a command if you are willing.”

With that, he gave her one last, lingering look before striding out.

Edwina thought that her husband might be the death of her.

Fairfax Manor was a magical sight, with light flickering in all the front windows, as Lucien and Edwina’s carriage pulled up outside. By the crest on their carriage, everybody knew that they had arrived.

Edwina’s stomach fluttered with nerves as the door was opened for her and she stepped out, tucking her hand into the crook of Lucien’s arm.

“People are staring,” she murmured, noting those who lingered outside. “Is that due to my brother’s reputation?”

“In part, perhaps,” Lucien said. “Also because you are the new Duchess of Stormhold, and there has not been one for quite some time. And the way you look draws attention.”

Edwina forced her gaze ahead, even as he complimented her again.

Smiling secretly, she let him lead her up the grand front steps to greet their hosts.

The Earl and Countess of Fairfax stood in the entrance hall, dressed in matching shades of lavender. Rumor had it that they were a love-at-first-sight match and that Lady Fairfax had not danced with another suitor since her debut save for Lord Fairfax.

Most had assumed she was calculating, but Edwina only needed to look at her for a moment to know that their love was genuine. That realization made her steps falter as she approached them on Lucien’s arm.

“Lord and Lady Fairfax,” Lucien greeted, smiling tightly as though he was still unused to playing the role he had to in public. “It is good to see you both happily settled. May I formally introduce my wife, the Duchess of Stormhold?” He gestured to Edwina, and she stepped forward.

“Your Grace,” Lord Fairfax said, bowing. “I hear it is your first ball as the Duchess. We are honored that it is ours.”

“And what a lively affair it seems to be,” Edwina remarked, before turning to Lady Fairfax. “Lady Fairfax, congratulations on your marriage.”

“And to you too, Your Grace. Perhaps we may mingle later?”

“I shall welcome it.”

After hiding away in Montgomery Manor for so long, Edwina was ready to make new friendships, but there was one particular friend who she knew would be present tonight.

As Lucien led her away from their hosts, she began her search for Diana.

They entered the ballroom, they were announced, and all eyes swiveled to them.

Edwina shivered beneath the attention. After avoiding the ton for so long, she felt as though every gaze that bored into her was one of harsh assessment.

She felt as though one glance at her would uncover every family secret she had buried beneath her carefully crafted facade.

They would know of her parents’ harshness, her floundering in Society, and Nicholas’s addiction.

They would know of her stolen kisses with Lucien before he married her and?—

“Are you all right?” Lucien asked.

Edwina had not realized they had already walked deeper into the crowd, having been dazed.

“Quite,” she managed. “I forgot how overwhelming these events can be.”

He nodded once. “Indeed. See over there—that is the Duke and Duchess of Silverton. They went through their own ordeal not too long ago, with the Duchess’s late husband, the Earl of Kinsfeld. It was a rather nasty business.”

“They seem rather happy,” Edwina noted, taking in the woman with the confident posture and swollen stomach.

“They are, from what I hear at the gentlemen’s club I sometimes go to. The couple are expecting their first child in several months. Do you see how the Duke barely moves from his Duchess’s side? They say marriage and expecting their child has changed him dramatically.”

Edwina could not help but ask, “Would you be changed by such a situation?”

Lucien stiffened beside her, and his gaze fell on her once more after they had assessed the couple.

Before he could answer her, Diana appeared behind Lucien’s shoulder, and Edwina cried out, rushing to her friend.

“Diana!” she squealed. She reminded herself to be proper, but still, she embraced her friend tightly. “Goodness, it has been too long.”

“ Far too long! I have been waiting for my invitation.”

Edwina glanced at Lucien. “We have… taken some time to settle in. But soon, I assure you. You may visit us soon enough.”

“Or you can travel to London, should you wish,” Lucien suggested, giving her a sharp glare that said enough—he did not entertain many visitors.

Diana looked between the two of them, amused.

“Excuse me, I see an old acquaintance of mine…” Lucien trailed off, already striding away.

Edwina knew that it had less to do with her friend’s arrival than it did with her question about marriage and having a child.

Why had she brought up such a topic? They had broached the subject only once but never since. She had been careful not to.

“That looks interesting,” Diana noted, looping her arm through Edwina’s. “How fares your marriage? The Marquess of Tulley is here, and he says that your marriage, so far, seems rather perfect. Many are doubting it, as they, of course, did not see you two meet before your wedding. Everybody is most intrigued.”

“You have spoken with Jasper?”

“I do not know him as informally.” Diana giggled. “But he was standing with the Marquess of Highbury, whom I intended to speak with. But I blushed too profusely to think of one word to say, so I lingered further away from them and eavesdropped.”

Edwina laughed aloud, and the sound was so freeing, so natural, that she could only wonder how she had let herself be so serious all the time.

“You are the most confident lady in this ballroom. How can you not speak to him?”

“He-He is charming! And very handsome. Simply look at him.” Diana nodded towards the corner, where Lucien, Jasper, and a few other gentlemen stood. “He is the one with the shock of orange hair. I have had dreams where he keeps me rather warm with that glow.”

“How so?”

Diana gave her a sly smile. “It would be improper to say aloud.”

“Oh, Diana!” Edwina could not stop laughing. “I have missed this.”

“Is Stormhold lonely?”

“No,” she confessed. “The Duke is present a great deal, but… well, he is no lady I can joke with.”

“No, but he is your husband,” Diana sighed wistfully. “And what better company could there be?”

Edwina bit her lip when she thought of the heavy silences between her and Lucien at times, and how, in many instances, they danced around questions or sought to distract one another.

“We should find the refreshments table,” Diana said, leading her past the group of men.

Edwina’s eyes met her husband’s, and she was momentarily pinned in place by those green orbs, made only more vibrant by his cravat.

He had been mid-sentence as she walked past, but he simply stopped speaking to watch her pass by. He only looked away when Jasper nudged him with his elbow and Edwina was hurried along.

Once she had drunk a glass of wine, she noticed that Lucien was seeking her out.

The small orchestra had struck up another tune—this one deeper, slower. Edwina’s heart fluttered when she noticed the intent in her husband’s strides.

“Will you dance with me, wife?” Lucien asked, his voice low but firm.

Edwina could only nod. She slipped her hand into his, and he led her to the center of the dance floor.

Her heart hammered in her chest as he moved her into position for their first-ever dance as a married couple.

The strains built up slowly, and Lucien placed his hand on her waist. She felt his touch through her dress even though she knew the gown was thick enough, but she swore she could feel his warmth, nonetheless.

Her hand was placed on his shoulder, and she struggled not to tighten her grip on the hard muscle beneath.

For a moment, in her mind’s eye, his shoulders were pressed to her back, his hand coaxing her to climax.

Her breathing quickened as she blinked up at him. As they began to dance, their steps easy and assured, Lucien gazed at her as though he wished to say something, but he remained silent. Edwina opted for the same and tried to keep her thoughts to herself, even though she was sure they were written all over her face in a pale blush.

Her body yearned for him, for the invitation he had extended. She did not know if she would go to his bed that night, but Heavens, with the way he looked at her, as though he was undressing her with his eyes alone, she wished they were already there.

Feeling like this, Edwina would tear her gown off her frame for him.

She wished to drown in him, to know what it felt like to wholly surrender to the Duke of Stormhold.

The intensity of her desire stunned her, and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, hoping to stop her quickly loosening inhibitions.

“I wrote to my aunt last week,” she revealed.

Talking about Isabel was surely the way to shove her fiery feelings aside.

From the mild look on his face, she realized that he had been aware of it and had felt the same.

“Yes,” she continued. “She wrote back after I enquired about Nicholas’s state. She says that his recovery is going well, but he is struggling. Physically, he is weak, she says, but the physicians who are monitoring his condition day and night are rather optimistic.”

“Does she know the extent of your brother’s… condition?” Lucien asked, keeping his voice down.

“She has never said it openly, but I believe she does.”

Lucien nodded. “Your brother is in good hands. I hired only the best physicians to tend to his needs, both mental and physical. He will be treated physically, yes, but once he regains his strength, his mental state might not catch up quickly.”

“I am prepared for that,” Edwina said. “I… I have seen him go through many stages of this condition. Withdrawal and the deepest throes of addiction. Any of the stages can be frightening.”

“Indeed. Once I receive word that he is feeling well enough for visitors, I shall take you.”

“I am sure I can visit my brother alone. Or do you think I need protection? Maybe you wish to defend my honor again?”

She smiled but wondered at her husband’s serious gaze.

“Your honor may very well not be defendable by the time we visit.” His voice was a quiet growl, and it reverberated through her.

Her head spun, and she exhaled shakily. Around her, guests danced and drank and conversed, but she barely saw any of them.

The room melted away, leaving only her and Lucien.

“And why might that be?” she ventured. “Whatever do you imagine yourself doing with my honor, husband?”

He drew her to him in a mimicry of the dance, a pretense, so that his lips were grazing her ear. “Terrible, terrible things that should not be discussed outside my chambers.” He spun her out before pulling her back to him. “But you had your taste, Edwina. Do you crave another?”

“No,” she whispered, her body trembling. “I wish for more than that. I wish to feast—to indulge so thoroughly that I know what it feels like to be sated. To wake up and think of little else but you, and us, and what… what we might do together.”

“What do you imagine happening behind my chamber door tonight?”

His question came right as she was supposed to spin out, but she did not. He held her there, her body flush against his, their breaths mingling.

They were closer than was appropriate, and she could feel the stares on them, but she could not bring herself to move away.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and despite the heat in her body, she felt something else stirring. Something not purely physical.

The music had come to an end, and Edwina could only stare at her husband, bewildered and aroused. There was no doubt in her mind that she wished to take him up on his invitation.

No, his command . But she would not make it that far if he kept unraveling her so thoroughly.

“I must find Diana,” she told him hurriedly, extricating herself from his grasp.

Avoiding meeting anybody’s gaze, she kept her eyes lowered, searching for her friend, who lingered near the refreshments table, her eyes wide.

“What was that all about?” Diana asked. “The entire room was ready to burst into flames from the looks you were exchanging. Were you fighting, or were you… ready to go somewhere private?”

Edwina flushed at the thought of everybody possibly thinking the same thing as her friend. She bit her lip. “It was nothing.”

“It did not look that way,” Diana countered.

But Edwina only grabbed a glass of wine and began to sip from it.

She caught sight of Lucien leaving the dance floor and rejoining Jasper, his eyes running over her. He kept his back to everyone, so his eyes remained on her.

Heat flared low in her stomach every time she caught his gaze. Heavens, would it never end? This unbridled tension between them, as if they were both unable to resist one another’s pull, even as they often fought it.

“Shall we get another drink?” Diana suggested. “The Marquess of Highbury keeps glancing our way, and if he asks me to dance, I do believe I shall need some liquid courage.”

“I think that is a good idea,” Edwina agreed hastily, trying to escape her husband’s attention, as if he might undress her on the spot with his eyes.

She didn’t know what to do with it, what to do with the height of his focus and desire, how to control herself in this ballroom, so she turned her back to him and put more distance between them.

As Edwina and Diana sipped on their drinks, they were approached by a tall man with hair as blonde as fields of wheat catching the summer sun.

“You must be the Duchess of Stormhold!” he exclaimed, holding out his hand. “It an absolute honor to meet you, Your Grace! You know, I have seen you throughout the night, and I kept wondering if it was indeed you. But when I saw you dancing with His Grace, I just knew it! You are her. And if I may be so bold, you are as beautiful as everybody says.”

His young face was bright with excitement, and Edwina hesitantly shook his hand.

“I am indeed her, but forgive my rudeness, as I do not know you.”

“Oh!” He laughed boldly, drawing the attention of several people around them. “How terrible of me. I am Allan Fitzgerald, Lucien’s cousin.”

Realization dawned on Edwina slowly, and by the time his words had registered, she had been staring at him rather dumbly.

“You are Rose’s brother?” she asked, smiling widely.

Allan nodded eagerly. “The very one!”

“Oh, wonderful. You know, I asked Lucien when I might meet you both.”

“He is terribly cagey, is he not?” Allan’s eyebrows knitted together in something akin to sadness. “I would have loved to be at your wedding, Your Grace, but we were not informed. It is a rather sad occurrence. Rose was beside herself.”

“I am sure.”

Edwina’s heart went out to her husband’s cousin, especially as he glanced around nervously.

“I… well, I have not had the chance to greet my cousin tonight. Do you know where I might find him?”

“He was right… over there…” Edwina trailed off as she glanced back at the spot where Lucien and Jasper had been and found it occupied by another group of young lords, whose gazes flicked to her and then back again. “I am sure he is discussing business somewhere else.”

“That sounds like the Lucien I know.” Allan laughed heartily. “And who is your lovely friend here?”

“I am Miss Diana Hughes, My Lord,” Diana said, holding out her hand for him to kiss. “Daughter of the Viscount Grenfield.”

“They ought to call you Miss Dazzling Hughes, for your beauty is ever so captivating.”

Diana blinked, her face flushing. “My, you are charming.”

“I have a good soul and a heart filled with laughter, nothing more.” Allan beamed at them, glancing around. “Although my sister should be around here somewhere. She will not be impressed, but would you do me the honor of this dance, my dear cousin-in-law? I suppose that is what you are now, yes?”

Edwina nodded, unable to stop thinking about Lucien’s other cousin, whom he had once mentioned introducing her to. She wished he would talk to her. She wished he trusted her not only with his body but also with his life, with his emotions, as she had tried to trust him.

“You may,” she finally answered.

Surely her husband wouldn’t be opposed to a dance. Regardless, he was not there to tell her anything.

“Excellent. Once we are done, we shall find that cousin of mine. He is prone to lurking in the shadows. Either that, or he is hiding behind Lady Lardan’s rather… large headpiece. If those peacock feathers atop her head are any indication of how her ball may look next week, then I imagine we will all be in for a rather riveting night.”

Discreetly, Allan pointed at the older lady’s headwear, and both Edwina and Diana could not help but stifle giggles behind their palms.

“Something displeases you.” Jasper’s voice cut through the din in the ballroom, igniting Lucien’s anger all over again.

“Nothing displeases me.”

“I see. So, do tell me who you are attempting to shoot columns of flame at?”

Lucien rounded on Jasper, glaring at him. “Your smirk irritates me.”

“Yours irritates me. Always has.”

Lucien just rolled his eyes and returned his focus to the dance floor. His cousin, a man whom he had tried not to mention when in Edwina’s company, was leading his Duchess in a dance, and though it was no waltz, the two stood close enough that Lucien could not stop his blood from boiling.

Edwina’s eyes were bright as she laughed, her head tipped backward. He recognized that laugh— barely . How many times had he made her laugh that heartily?

Jealousy, ugly and green, coiled in his chest. Allan had no right. He had not been informed of their wedding for a reason—he knew about Lucien’s past, and he knew why Lucien stayed away.

Jaw clenched, Lucien held himself still, biding his time until the dance was over lest he causea bigger scene. This was the first ball Edwina had attended in a long time, and part of him was determined not to ruin it for her. But how could she laugh so easily with his cousin and not with him—her own husband?

He seethed as he watched her, for she did not even catch his eye once when she was spun around the dance floor.

“When did Allan become such a good dancer?” Jasper taunted. “Edwina looks as though she’s having a good time. Speaking of, did you take my advice and spend more time with your lonely wife?”

Lucien closed his eyes briefly, restraining himself. He was only being goaded to react, so Jasper could feel good about himself. Second by second, he waited for the dance to end. As soon as it did, he stalked over to the couple before Allan could lead Edwina off the dance floor.

“Cousin!” Allan exclaimed. “There you are. We were about to look for you.”

“A shame,” Lucien said curtly, “as my wife and I must leave.”

“We must?” Edwina asked, furrowing her delicate brow. “But we?—”

“Yes.” Lucien did not stop glaring at his cousin. “Immediately.”

“But my father and Rose would love to meet your new wife,” Allan insisted, irking him further.

Rage rose inside Lucien, thrumming beneath his skin, tightening so hard that he feared it would snap right there, in front of everyone.

“After all, Edwina is part of our family.”

“ Her Grace is my wife,” Lucien hissed. “And we shall return to our home.”

Allan blinked, taken aback, and it only infuriated Lucien more, for his cousin got to look so clueless, a helpless thing that had done very little wrong.

Without another word, Lucien tugged Edwina out of the ballroom and did not stop until he slammed the door of their carriage shut behind them.

“Why on earth are you acting so terribly?” Edwina cried. “Must you always act so-so?—”

“I tire of inane conversations for the night, but by all means, do say what you wish to say, Edwina.”

“So territorial! As if you have a claim on me.”

Lucien leaned forward. “It was you who told me exactly such a thing, no?”

Her eyes searched his face. “You are jealous. You are jealous of one silly, little dance I had with another man—your cousin, no less—when I am married to you .”

“Exactly,” he growled.

Edwina blinked, as though not expecting him to admit his jealousy.

“Of course, I am jealous. No one should touch you, Edwina. No one . You are mine.”

“I am not your possession,” she whispered, her voice firm. “You may claim me, but you may not possess?—”

“Shall I remind you whose name you were screaming the other night?”

His question came out in a rough snarl as he moved into her space, letting her feel the full intensity of his presence. The wide shoulders that he knew caught her eye and made her feel smaller in a way he thought she liked.

And— yes, there it was. That flicker of desire and fear.

“You are foolish,” she scoffed, trying to sound nonchalant, but her voice quivered slightly. “May I not dance with anybody else ever again?”

“No,” Lucien told her. And then the final thread of his self-control snapped.

He was immediately on her, cupping her face in his hand as he hit the roof of the carriage to have them begin their journey home.