Page 6 of Duke of Chaos (The Four Dukes #3)
CHAPTER SIX
“ A lice, Duncan, I cannot thank you enough for opening your home to us,” Lydia said warmly as she hugged her sister goodbye.
“Oh, please, I would have entered the boxing ring with Ezra himself if he had refused me,” Alice replied with a laugh as she squeezed Lydia tightly.
It had indeed been a relief when Alice had visited Lydia the day after Ezra met with their father to announce that the wedding ceremony would be held in the London Banfield House. Her sister had also pried a short reception out of Ezra, which Lydia knew, no doubt, had to do with Duncan’s insistence.
Lydia looked up at him as Alice released her and he smiled warmly as he opened his arms. Their relationship had changed so much in the last two years. Though she had started out fearing and hating Duncan, Lydia now saw him as a doting husband to her sister and a brotherly protector of both her and Juliet.
You let me know if he misbehaves,” Duncan said as he embraced her warmly, “We’ll put him in his place quickly and properly.”
“I know you would,” Lydia rasped, feeling yet another sudden bout of emotion wash over her.
They had come in waves all day between moments of estranged numbness. First when she, Juliet, and Alice were having their private sisters-only moment at the wedding. Then again when she saw Ezra look at her from the pulpit. There was no love. No approval. There was nothing. Just those dead, glittering blue eyes that remained as impassive as ever, although he did keep them on her throughout the ceremony. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he picked up her hand and slid her wedding ring onto her finger, but there was no affection. Though she had been happy with her life as a spinster, it was only in that moment that Lydia realized her option to someday marry for love was now and forever sealed off.
“We must be going now,” Ezra stated, appearing by her side from nowhere.
Lydia watched Duncan and Alice’s eyes flatten as they regarded Ezra.
“You are playing a dangerous game here, Ezra,” Duncan warned, his voice suddenly low and commanding.
“I did not realize getting married would reveal the true feelings of my friends,” Ezra said disinterestedly.
Lydia looked up at him just as he tisked his tongue and shook his head.
“Here I believed you all thought better of me, but it is obvious you see me as evil as everyone else does.”
“Duncan, please,” Lydia found herself saying, surprising everyone including herself. The three of them stared at her wide-eyed as she said, “This is not necessary. Ezra is not some creature dragging me off to a cave in the woods.”
“Do not be so sure,” Morgan mused, making his presence known.
Lydia turned around and saw that Morgan, Ambrose, Helena, Barbara, and Juliet had all circled them, suspiciously watching Ezra. Empathy twisted in her as she shot a compassionate look at her new husband. She observed that he only stared back at them with impassive detachment. Suddenly, feeling protective of him, Lydia squared her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly.
“I would like to kindly remind you all that Ezra and I have mutually agreed to this marriage, and although I appreciate just how much love and care is coming from each and every one of you, it has become a bit overwhelming.”
She turned her focus to Ezra as her friends’ faces began to turn pink, then red with sheepish realization.
“I believe you said it was time to go, husband?” She asked.
Lydia could have sworn she saw something akin to admiration flash in his eyes.
“Indeed, I did,” he agreed, impassively, taking her by the hand. “Let us depart.”
“That was not necessary,” Ezra stated dryly.
They were nearly at Frampton Hall and had traveled most of the journey in silence. He had not been surprised when his friends had begun to growl and snap at him at the wedding, but he had been caught off guard by the way Lydia smoothed over the caustic situation. He had never been saved before; not even by his duke brothers. He had always been the one to do the saving, although his efforts were usually focused on Morgan, and, back in the day, Duncan.
He had tried to ignore the small kindness that Lydia had performed for him, but the more he sat with it, the more it annoyed and pressed upon him. Finally, when he could not take the agitation any longer, he broke his silence.
Lydia’s green eyes slowly rose from her book, giving him a look as if annoyed by his interruption. It somehow pleased him that she looked at him in that way, but he kept his face frozen in its usual mask.
“Pardon?” she asked calmly, closing her book in the same slow fashion she had raised her eyes.
“Your intervention at the reception. It was not necessary. I can speak for myself,” he stated in a clipped tone.
Lydia raised an amused brow and made a show of smoothing her gloved hands down her soft pink wedding dress.
“You are not a dimwitted man, Your Grace, so I am confused as to why you believe that was not necessary?”
Now it was Ezra’s turn to be confused. He crossed his legs as his manhood suddenly pulsed and leaned forward to give her an intimidating look.
“I beg your pardon?” he growled.
Lydia looked back at him, unfazed by his voice and tone.
“You married me to soften your image, Your Grace. To smooth things over when they would normally become complicated. We have a contract, you and I, and I am not one to break a contract,” Lydia replied with cool confidence and grace.
“You did not need to…”
“Did I not perform my task as you intended it to be performed?” Lydia asked before Ezra could continue.
He glared at her as the carriage stopped, but begrudgingly admitted, “Yes.”
“Welcome home, Your Graces,” the footman greeted as the door opened a heartbeat later.
Before Ezra could command him to shut the door again, Lydia was out of her seat and taking the footman’s hand.
“Hello, I am the new Lady of the House, Her Grace Lydia Fernside,” Lydia greeted the footman diplomatically as he helped her safely to the ground, “And you are?”
The footman, a young man in his early twenties, smiled wildly when he was spoken to so politely. Though Ezra was still greatly annoyed with Lydia, his frustration at the servant’s bumbling annoyed him more and he gruffly commanded, “Answer her,” as he got himself out of the carriage.
“Gerald, Your Grace,” the footman finally burst out, bowing low at his waist toward Lydia. “My name is Gerald, and I am at your service.”
“That is most wonderful, Gerald,” Lydia answered politely as she lifted her skirts and began to climb the steps, “You will not mind then that I ask you to alert the rest of the staff that I shall meet with them tomorrow? I am dreadfully weary and need to rest right away.”
“You have no idea where you are going,” Ezra noted as he calmly kept up with her on the steps.
His staff had bowed low around them as they entered the foyer, but they were already raising their heads and whispering as Gerald followed closely behind and delivered Lydia’s message.
“I am sure you are more than adequate to show me to my rooms,” Lydia remarked to Ezra as she continued up the steps as though she did not care whether or not he followed her.
Though he was still annoyed with her interference, amusement was starting to work its way through him as he watched her stride so confidently through his home. He caught up to her in several easy strides, then took the lead. If she wanted to play cool and aloof so could he. In fact, he preferred it.
“I assume you are not heartbroken that we do not have adjoining rooms?” he asked as he veered off to the right on the third floor.
“Certainly not,” Lydia retorted. “It is more suitable for our situation.”
“Our situation?” he echoed.
“Yes,” she breathed, turning to him with a smile that did not meet her eyes. “We are partners, not lovers.”
Ezra nearly chuckled but regained his composure as he stopped at the suite door. With a small flourish, he opened it and beckoned her inside. Lydia walked into her rooms with her shoulders back and her beautiful features held regally. The sitting parlor was already alight with several oil lamps which displayed a rather dark, bland room that was neither feminine nor welcoming. Ezra watched Lydia’s face closely as she studied the room, looking for any sign of dismay or regret. Yet…he saw none. Only quiet acceptance.
“You may redecorate if you like,” Ezra said dryly, getting down to the rules. She was right, they were partners, not lovers and every partnership had its guidelines.
“The suite is yours to do with as you wish. Have your sisters over whenever you like, or anyone else for that matter. You are not to go into my suite unless I invite you. I shall have my valet coordinate a diary for you, so you know when I expect you to be by my side, but when your presence is not required you are free to do as you wish on the grounds.”
“What if I want to leave the grounds?” she asked, raising a challenging eyebrow. “Are you going to stop me?”
Ezra’s lips twitched, but instead of a sarcastic answer, he chose to give her an honest one.
“If it impedes my business? Yes. There will be times you will need to be at my disposal, Lydia, and I cannot have you a day’s ride away when an opportunity suddenly arises.”
He expected Lydia to argue with him over this, but she only gave him a firm nod.
“I suppose that is practical,” she admitted.
Ezra deadpanned, unsure what to do with her acceptance.
“You must be tired,” he stated, almost wishing now that she’d argued with him. “I shall leave you to rest, and you and I will coordinate in the morning over breakfast. You will meet me in the main dining room at seven. Your handmaid will show you where it is.”
Deciding the conversation was over, he gave her a respectful bow and moved toward the door.
“I do not want children with you,” Lydia said as his hand reached the doorknob.
The blunt randomness of her statement had truly caught him off guard. As he turned back to her he could not help his wry smile and chuckle.
“That was quite the non sequitur,” he mused, but Lydia only acknowledged him with a level look of her own.
“If we are discussing your rules,” she replied calmly, unfazed by his teasing, “Then we should also discuss mine . Our agreement is to have me help you gain more business in exchange for not marrying Juliet. This is not a traditional marriage, so I will not provide traditional things. Children. A shared bed. You may take other women if you like. I genuinely do not care, but do not bring them here. This is not just our home now, it is also where we discuss business. We cannot have distractions.”
For the first time in his life, Ezra felt as if he could have been knocked over by a feather. The honesty, the practicality; even from Lydia, was not at all what he was expecting. His shock transformed into curiosity, then lust as he looked her up and down.
“You are…certainly quite the interesting woman, Duchess,” Ezra mused, sliding a hand in his pocket.
As he did so, her fingers brushed against the length of his hardened manhood, and he shivered.
“I am a woman of my word,” Lydia replied matter-of-factly, then with a bit more annoyance, spat, “and stop looking at me like that!”
“Like what?” Ezra teased as he took a step toward her.
A pink blush rose from under the freckles on Lydia’s cheeks, and his smirk turned into a wolfish smile. He had to admit he was beginning to enjoy making her falter. Lydia, the fearless, practical woman who had just rattled off her demands, then swallowed slowly as her pupils dilated and her lips parted. He took another step, close enough to catch her black heart cherry scent. It instantly made his mouth water, and he had to grit his teeth against the sudden balloon of lust that burst inside of him. It caused him to let out a small grunt, making Lydia jump a little.
“Are you sure you do not want to share a bed with me?” he asked, his free hand sliding around her throat.
He nearly growled at the way the lace collar impeded him from touching her bare flesh. He wanted to rip it away, shred it until he could place his palm on her bare pulse as he had the night she’d made her offer, but he didn’t. Keeping the lace intact, he settled for stroking his fingers over the fabric. He noted it was blessedly thin although not thin enough, as he located her pulse once more. He felt Lydia tremble beneath his touch, but she kept her hands at her sides.
“I am…certain,” Lydia panted, her lashes fluttering as he caressed his fingers along her throat again.
He tisked at her softly as he pulled her closer, letting his hair fall and tickle her forehead.
“Your tone and breath say otherwise,” he rasped into her ear as he stroked her throat lazily with his thumb. “I think you are most curious to discover what it is I do to ladies who share my bed; how I make them gasp and tremble.”
Ezra abruptly tightened his grip, procuring the sweetest gasp from Lydia’s lips He smirked in satisfaction as he received the reaction he’d wanted.
“Perhaps you would like me to make you gasp and tremble too?”
He grazed the tip of his nose over Lydia’s top lip, their temples gliding against one another as her erratic, shallow breaths enticed him to kiss her.
“You truly think you could please a woman like me?” Lydia asked boldly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ezra let out a dark chuckle as her bluntness once again pleased him.
“It would certainly be interesting to try.”
“It truly would,” Lydia purred teasingly, her confidence gaining in their wordplay, “It is a shame you are denied the opportunity.”
A dark chuckle erupted from his chest once more as he brought his fingers up to trace along her jawline. He felt her quiver under his touch; her reaction declaring her words a lie.
“We shall see about that,” he rasped.
He slipped his hand to the back of her neck, the other sliding around her waist to pin her to his chest. Lydia willfully bucked her head away from him at first, but when he merely grinned at her response, he felt her body relax and she tilted her lips toward him.
“Mmmm,” Ezra murmured with pleasure as he accepted her offering.
He did not bite, not like before. His kiss was seductive and sensual. It lured her to his darkness like a wicked lullaby she secretly loved. Ezra’s chiseled lips slid possessively over her plump ones as he held her tightly to him, teaching her through experience how and when to apply different pressure and go deeper.
How long had it been since he kissed virgin lips? Had he ever? Unlike Morgan, he was no flower hound and preferred a woman with a profound understanding of giving and receiving sexual pleasure. And yet, as he so carefully gave Lydia her first lesson in kissing, his desire to show her more exploded from an ember into a white-hot flame.
Another soft gasp and a gentle push at his chest was all he felt from Lydia before her body melted in his grip and she parted her lips for him.
A deep and primal hunger consumed him as his tongue dipped between her lips and he tasted her for the first time. He had been certain that there was no conceivable way she would taste as she smelled, but the moment he swept his tongue against hers he tasted those sweet, black cherries.
Somehow, Lydia worked her hands free from between them and slid them up to his neck, pulling him down to her height. Ezra’s penchant for their little games suddenly vanished as he became aware of her willingness, once again completely throwing him off guard with her ability to instantly transform from sweet to wicked as he pressed her back tightly to the nearest wall.
Lydia’s lips, full and plump as the black heart cherries she tasted like, parted for him willingly as he kissed her despite her brave words a moment ago. He suddenly realized he could make her acquiesce, and continued the kiss as his hands began to slide down her waist to her skirts. Just like all the others he’d had before her.
I will pull her into my darkness, stoke her fear into pleasure, and take everything. I will…
The sting of pain erupted in his lower lip so suddenly it surprised him, and he drew back with a gasp. Lydia’s green eyes, now sparkling with those bronze and gold flecks, looked back at him with a hazy smugness. A fleck of his blood stood out on her lower lip as she smiled at him slowly.
“A repayment, Your Grace,” Lydia purred, drawing her hands up slowly to primp her hair.
Ezra watched Lydia’s tongue slowly lap up his drop of blood as though it was an afterthought. His focus narrowed as he watched her throat bob, as she swallowed the drop. As he watched her, something powerful exploded inside of him and he nearly rushed her again.
Instead, he drew out a dark chuckle, straightened his wide shoulders, and took another step back.
“I suppose that is fair,” he replied, taking a slow measure of her. When he reached her eyes he allowed his own to deaden into their customary glaze. “But do not do it again.”
“Do not be so casual with my honor,” Lydia replied, shrugging as if completely unfazed by his change of demeanor. “And I will not have to.”
Ezra studied her for a long moment, unsure of how to continue. Lydia was not the first woman to feign disinterest in him, but usually by the time he had them trapped in a kiss he had them whimpering and begging for more. Yet here she was, marking him as he had marked her, and refusing to apologize for it.
Ezra suddenly beamed a genuine smile and let out a chuckle as he shook his head.
“You are going to make me a lot of money, you are you not?” he asked, looking at her with approval as he drew his hands into his pockets and feigned a relaxed stance.
Lydia seemed taken aback by this, but her briefly widened eyes quickly narrowed with confidence as she crossed her arms and replied, “If you can behave.”
Ezra chuckled again, more mischievously this time, and let out an audible sigh.
“I wonder, my dear Duchess, if it is I that will try to resist you, or it will be you trying to resist me?”
Lydia’s haughty expression flattened into one of annoyance, and she stomped to the door to open it for him.
“Trust me, Your Grace,” she huffed, “I will have no issue resisting you. Ever.”
“We shall see,” Ezra purred, feeling more playful than he had in a long time, and strolled casually through the doorway “Sweet dreams, Lydia. Try your best to not make them about me.”
“Arrogant…pompous…rake…” Lydia could get out words, but proper sentences were beyond her reach as she viciously yanked the pins from her hair.
Her body still felt warm and tingly from Ezra’s possessive touch, and she was as annoyed by her reaction as she was by Ezra’s arrogant behavior. Suddenly though, she paused in her fury and smiled ruthlessly into the mirror. She had bitten him back, and it had filled her with a delight unlike any other she had ever felt.
It still shocked her that she did not mind the taste of his blood, but it had been his reaction to her retaliatory blood kiss that had thrilled her. His shock and her fury; the pure satisfaction that had flashed between them for just a second was priceless. Ezra, like any predator, had always attacked so quickly and viciously with his teeth, that no one had ever dared to bite back, but she had.
Lydia’s anger started to dissipate as she began to brush her hair, her touch gentler now as her thoughts progressed to the memory of their kiss. She had lost herself in Ezra’s touch before she had sought her retribution. She had forgotten every warning, every thought of self-preservation, and had given in to the pleasure of his embrace.
She had known he was strong and well-built. All of the orphaned dukes were, thanks to their shared passion for boxing, but she had not been prepared for how small she had felt in his arms; how light she would be for him to simply pick up and do with as he pleased. And, for the briefest of moments, she had wanted to.
A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts, and before she could answer Alice appeared in her bedroom with a big grin. Lydia gasped, unable to believe her eyes, and jumped from her stool to embrace her younger sister.
“What are you doing here?” Lydia asked as she laughed along with Alice. “Did you follow us?”
Alice grimaced as they pulled back from one another, still holding each other’s hands.
“Would it be dreadful if I did?” she asked.
“But Duncan and Beau?” Lydia asked, glancing toward the open and empty doorway. “Surely you did not come alone?”
Alice smirked and led Lydia to the settee.
“As if Duncan would ever allow such a thing!” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “No, my overprotective husband would never let me leave Beau’s side again even if I begged for it. He is downstairs, no doubt boxing with Ezra by now, and Beau is with his nanny in the room adjacent to ours. The poor love is simply done in and fell asleep a few hours ago. You shall see him in the morning, I promise.”
“Boxing?” Lydia asked, feeling suddenly alert. “Why are they boxing? Is it because of what happened at the wedding?”
Alice sighed, then motioned for her to stand.
“Come, I shall help you dress for bed while I tell you. The dukes’ history is…well, complicated.”
“I thought they were like brothers?” Lydia asked as Alice helped her out of her wedding dress.
Although she had told Ezra he would never be allowed to do so, Lydia felt a small wave of disappointment that he was not the one undressing her.
“Like all siblings, they fight,” Alice replied, carefully pulling away the dress so as not to tear the delicate fabric.
Not at all like Ezra would have, Lydia suddenly thought as she watched her sister handle the gown with care. It would surely be in shreds by now.
“The others are angry at him for not discussing his plans with them beforehand. From what I have gathered from eavesdropping on Duncan and Ambrose, Ezra is also the one left in the direst position because of his father’s financial neglect. Oh, and his mother is apparently so wicked …”
“Alice, darling,” Lydia sighed, taking her sister’s hands. “Stop, please.”
Alice’s eyes widened before drawing her brows down in concern, “But, Lydia, you need to know…”
“I will know what Ezra wants me to know when Ezra wants me to know it,” Lydia soothed.
I know my sister is speaking from a loving heart, and that I should probably listen to her, but…
“I cannot thank you enough for coming all the way out here,” she continued in a soothing tone, “but Ezra and I have an agreement. There is no pretense of romance here. I know exactly what type of man Ezra is and I went ahead with my choice all the same.”
“You expect me to leave you here?” Alice hissed, pulling her hands away.
“I want you back here and with Juliet very soon,” Lydia replied calmly, “But for now I have to work to do, as did you and as did Barbara when you both became duchesses.”
Alice looked positively displeased at hearing this, but gradually her expression shifted to resignation. She linked her arm through the one Lydia offered, and they both began walking toward Alice’s rooms.
“He is not like the others, Lydia,” Alice offered, her last effort at dissuading her older sister. “The rumors about him being a son of the devil or a demon are questionable, yes, but what they say about his feelings is true. He has none. He is…loyal, I think, to a small few, but that is it.”
“Well then,” Lydia sighed, giving her sister’s arm a warm squeeze, “I shall have to become one of the small few.”