Page 24 of A Duke to Steal Her

William glared at him.

“Mostly willingly,” Ambrose amended.

“You dragged her away days before her wedding to your house. An unmarried lady,unchaperoned. With you. What exactly am I supposed to call that?”

“A misunderstanding with generous hospitality.”

William didn’t smile. “No, Ambrose. This is cruelty dressed up in chivalry.”

Ambrose’s jaw tightened. “Peirce deserves worse.”

“Maybe he does,” William said quietly. “Butshedoesn’t.”

That gave Ambrose pause—but only briefly. “She was going to marry that man.”

“And now she’s tied to you, with a broken engagement, a damaged reputation, and I’m guessing no clue why you have brought her here.” William stepped forward. His voice was low and hard-edged. “If this is about your sister, fine. I understand vengeance. I do. But you don’t heal a wound by carving it into someone else.”

There was a beat of silence. Ambrose turned back to the fire. “You finished?”

William reached into his coat and withdrew a folded sheet. “Not quite. Peirce left for Dover two nights ago. Word is he’s bound for France. Alone.”

Ambrose stiffened, just slightly. “Running?”

“Looks like it.” William handed him the paper. “So you may have defeated him, but before you hold that lady here any longer, I suggest you ask yourself whether the price is worth it.”

He turned and left without waiting for a reply.

Ambrose stood in silence for a long moment, the fire crackling behind him. Then he unfolded the paper with slow, deliberate hands.

A half victory. Or perhaps none at all.

Chapter Nine

“You play beautifully, Lady Emily.”

Emily looked up from the piano keys to find the Duke leaning against the doorframe, clearly having been there for some time. He straightened and stepped into the music room, his footsteps quiet on the polished floor.

Since her brief encounter with the Duke and his friend, the Marquess of Fulton, Emily had done her level best to stay away from her captor. She did not like being thought of as his companion or pet and would not allow herself to feel the strength of his compliment now.

“I was taught at Wicklow. They insisted all young ladies master at least one instrument.”

“They chose well. You have natural talent.”

Emily’s fingers stilled on the keys.

A silence settled between them, not quite uncomfortable, but taut with something unsaid.

Finally, she turned to him and saw that, at the very least, his admiration for her skill was genuine.

“Your friend… the Marquess. Will he say anything?”

The Duke tilted his head. “About you?”

“Yes.” She dropped her hands into her lap. “About finding me here. About any of this.”

He moved closer, slow and deliberate, stopping just beside the piano. “William is many things, Lady Emily, but indiscreet is not one of them. He shall not violate my trust or tarnish your reputation by breathing a word to another.”

Still, her shoulders remained tense.