Page 14 of Claimed by Her Forbidden Duke (Forbidden Lords #6)

Chapter Fourteen

E dmund still hadn’t collected his thoughts by the time Benjamin rattled the doorknob, and he finally hurried to open the door. Grabbing his cousin by the front of his waistcoat, he yanked him inside.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“Saving your backside, I believe!” Benjamin hissed right back. “Do you think I did not see you escaping the ballroom right after Lady Penelope left? I just saved you both and—Lord Langwaite!”

Finley filled the doorway, his face contorted in anger, his cheeks red with sweat and fury. “ Where is she ?”

Edmund’s hands clenched into fists at the commanding tone, the possessiveness in the Marquess’s voice, but before he could lash out in response, Benjamin chuckled. It was a sort of manic sound, one that had both Edmund and Finley staring at him.

“Oh,” he slurred, turning slightly cross-eyed. “ Oh , you mean the maiden? Ah, well, I do believe she is right here.” All his vowels were drawn out as he stumbled over to the nearest bookcase, grabbing the first thing he saw. He scowled. “Oh, Heavens, no, not her. You do not want to find her, Lord Langwaite—she is a bit of a tearaway.”

He laughed again, and Edmund realized he was pretending to be drunk.

This cousin of mine , he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose for effect.

“Forgive my cousin, Lord Langwaite,” he muttered. “I am assuming you are looking for Lady Penelope, but I have not seen her.” I have seen everything and I crave her. “I have been in here, preventing my cousin from embarrassing himself in the ballroom.”

“Embarrassing myself!” Benjamin cried out, jabbing a finger into Edmund’s chest. Edmund grabbed it and shoved him off. “Oh, you big, nasty Duke, throwing your title around with lesser men like me. I was a duke once, you know!”

He made a convincing, rambling act, distracting Finley from his search and leaving him looking confused and irritated.

“Yes, yes, Cousin, we know, and you were excellent at it.” Edmund rolled his eyes, playing along. “Forgive him, Lord Langwaite, he is… Well, I could read a dictionary and still not find enough words to describe my annoyance. Nevertheless, he is family.”

“Indeed, and family saves one another,” Benjamin muttered, his jaw slack and his eyes wide as he pretended to drunkenly stare off into the distance. “I believe I can see the North Star from here. Lord Langwaite, do you see it?”

The three of them peered up at the painted ceiling with no stars in sight.

Finley made a hard noise in the back of his throat. “I will not have my night wasted by a man who cannot hold his wine. Blackstone, do keep your cousin in check before he causes any aggravation.”

Smiling sarcastically, Edmund grabbed the back of Benjamin’s collar. “Of course, Lord Langwaite. He is unruly.”

Benjamin shot him a scathing look.

“So you have not seen Lady Penelope?” Finley asked, returning to his reason for being there, as if Benjamin had succeeded in distracting him.

“No,” Edmund told him. “Neither has my cousin.”

For a second, Finley looked ready to tear the library apart as if his sister was another maiden hiding in a book, but he only growled and turned on his heel, stalking out.

As soon as he was gone, Benjamin rounded on Edmund. “I saved you, and you were cruel!”

“You embarrassed yourself,” Edmund countered.

“Would you rather he had been me, walking in on Heavens-know-what? What were you doing in here with Lady Penelope in the first place?”

“Do you see her, Benjamin?”

Edmund let his cousin look around. He didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t risk confirming that he had indeed been in here, pumping his fingers into Penelope.

“No, you do not. You saw me leave after her, but that is all. It is hearsay, yes?”

His eyes met his cousin’s knowingly, and after a moment, Benjamin nodded.

“Next time, I will let you both be caught out if you cannot show any gratitude,” Benjamin muttered.

Edmund clapped him on the back, leading them out. “I am immensely grateful,” he said solemnly. “Only next time, do knock at least five minutes later.”

He left his cousin spluttering at the insinuation and strode back to the ballroom.

He hoped there wouldn’t be a next time. Benjamin had not seen anything directly, but he’d still caught them, just as Arabella had. He had to be more careful.

But Penelope was like a fire. She spread through him, burning him. He could not distance himself even when he tried, yet to let himself give in was to burn them both.

Trying to steady his breathing, he took a moment to fully compose himself, knowing that his hair likely looked disheveled, his lips kiss-swollen, and his clothes rumpled from where he had pressed against Penelope.

He was still aroused even if he did not ache as hard as he had in the library. He still craved her, wanting to chase the scent he’d smelled on her skin—vanilla and a touch of rose.

As he slipped into a conversation with another lord, as if he had been there the whole time, Edmund thought that it was worth being burned if it meant he got to touch Penelope again.

* * *

Penelope thought her heart would burst out of her chest as she snuck back into the ballroom, picking a corner that the wallflowers of the ton usually occupied.

It was not a place she would usually go to, but it would keep her out of sight of her friends and her brother. Her friends mostly, because Cecilia would likely take one look at her and know something .

Holding a glass of wine in her trembling hands, she drank half of it to make it look like she had been nursing a drink. She felt as though everybody knew what had transpired in the library, yet nobody looked at her suspiciously.

She was invisible for a moment—mercifully so.

Her legs were trembling still, and she felt damp from her climax. She ached for the feel of Edmund, the length of him that she had been so close to touching.

Penelope was still thinking about Edmund admitting that he had ignored his arousal over her—admitting she had that effect on him—when Finley startled her.

“Where have you been?” he demanded. “I have looked everywhere for you.”

“You could not have looked everywhere, Brother. I have been here the whole time.”

He sneered, looking around the corner she was in, at the maidens who were not yet courted despite having multiple Seasons. “You do not belong here, Penelope.”

“I rather think I do,” she answered, keeping up her pretense. “That is what they say, no? A spinster, a burden to you. Several Seasons passed and I have not found myself a husband.”

She tried to keep the accusation from her voice, but she felt bold, brave, for if the world had not ended after receiving pleasure in the library, then she wanted to be more fearless.

Finley’s eyes narrowed on her. “We are leaving. This ball bores me.”

Penelope knew that was a translation for the fact that he had not made any worthwhile connections or that there was a suitor he wanted to keep her away from.

“I must say goodbye to my fr?—”

“Now, Penelope.”

His eyes darted around, and he sighed, eyeing her dress.

Of course , he has noticed people looking and wants me away.

Giving in, she nodded. “Let us depart, then.”

Finley led her out of the ball.

She barely heard any of his annoyed muttering in the carriage. Her thoughts were far too preoccupied with recalling the press of a bookcase against her back, the feel of the Duke’s hands on her, and the question of when she would experience that again.