Page 8 of Duke of Chaos (The Four Dukes #3)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Two Weeks Later

“ Y ou chose the ice blue for your costume,” Ezra mused, obviously satisfied by her selection. “I am flattered that you minded me.”

Lydia tossed him a heated glance, something she could not seem to stop doing lately, and dryly replied, “Well, I did not wish to risk having my corsets or something else stolen as repayment for a different choice.”

Ezra chuckled deeply as he once more took in her costume, his eyes glowing with approval. As he had requested, she had chosen an ice-blue gown with gold and silver embroidery. Despite her insistence on having the neckline raised a little higher, it dropped low to the swell of her cleavage, revealing the two soft mounds of peach flesh just above her nipples.

The mask was an intricate gold cat-eye piece with flecks of silver and matched her shoes. Since the mask was so ornate, she had chosen to wear only a simple diamond star pendant on a thick piece of ice-blue ribbon around her neck.

In turn, Ezra had worn his usual black-on-black suit and shirt. He did, at her suggestion, allow a silver trim to be added to his jacket shirt lapels, and his black cravat. He had chosen a mask that covered his entire face; one half painted silver, and the other half black. His ice-blue eyes glittered brilliantly behind it as they snapped up to hers.

“Lydia! There you are!” Alice called, interrupting the moment.

“They must check on you,” Ezra said dully from behind his mask, “to make sure I have not been drinking your blood or something equally as sinister.”

Lydia smirked, recalling their first kiss.

“Well, have you not?” she asked coyly.

Even with his mask on, Lydia could see Ezra’s wicked smile light his eyes.

“As you have tasted mine,” he murmured, low enough for only her to hear. “Or have you forgotten that wicked little nip you took of me?”

Heat pooled in Lydia’s lower belly as she recalled the small fleck of his blood that she had tasted on their wedding night. Hot, coppery, and delicious. It should have repulsed her, but even now, remembering it filled her with excitement.

“Behave yourself, husband,” Lydia purred, letting her voice drop to a sultry tone.

“You behave yourself, wife,” he warned darkly right back, though his voice was full of admiration.

He then bowed toward her, catching her hand to graze it across the bottom of his mask, and left her just as Alice, Juliet, Helena, and Barbara surrounded her.

“Where have you been, we have been hunting for you since we arrived!” Juliet exclaimed worriedly, leaning to drop a kiss on each of Lydia’s cheeks.

She was wearing a pale purple gown with a matching mask, one of the more modest ones Lydia had seen thus far at the party.

“We have been here for twenty minutes already,” Lydia laughed, moving from friend to friend to hug and kiss them, whatever are you so worried about?”

“You know good and well why,” Barbara retorted icily.

She had chosen a glittering green gown with a fascinating half-mask of crushed pearls, tiny emeralds, and amethysts, encompassed by a thin, gold metal band.

“You have been refusing a visit from us for nearly three weeks, of course, we are worried,” Helena added, her delicate brows drawing down.

As usual, Helena was wearing a shade of pink; rose this time coupled with a matching glittering mask. A crown of gold roses rested atop her pretty head.

“Good heavens,” Lydia laughed, motioning for them to follow her to the table of refreshments, “I simply do not know what the four of you have imagined, but I assure you I am well!”

And she meant it, she realized, with a swell of emotion. Lydia picked up a glass of wine as she continued, saying, “Ezra and I were quite clear with one another about what this relationship would be, and we are both holding up our end of the bargain. Our work takes up much of our time.”

She paused, took a sip of her wine, and added, “It, well, actually, has been quite fun being married to Ezra.”

Around her, her friends gaped, none of them even remotely interested in the drink table.

“Fun,” Barbara echoed.

Lydia nodded her head and took another sip of her wine.

“Oh, indeed,” she confirmed happily, “It turned out that we are quite capable of working well together.”

“But,” Alice said reluctantly, looking from their friends to her older sister, “If you are so well, why deny our visit?”

Lydia looked at Alice curiously as she lowered her wine.

“Darlings, I was honest with you all in my letters. I…we…truly have simply been too busy to host a family gathering! As I said, Ezra and I have discovered that we work quite well together, and I have been able to seal up many ventures that he has been chasing for months if not years.

“That is why I wrote and insisted we all meet here at the masquerade. Tonight, Ezra and I are not obliged to work. I wanted to be able to speak with you, as I am sure Ezra also wants to speak with his friends.”

Lydia’s sisters and friends all looked at one other curiously, as if they were not sure she was telling the truth. Deciding that she would not let them linger on her any longer, she pushed for a new subject.

“I have missed you,” she said enthusiastically, reaching for Alice’s hand with her free one, “I have missed all of you! Do not let our night be heavy with worry. We should be joyous! Now that I have made it clear that I am not in distress, please, let us speak of your lives. Surely there is news to tell.”

“If you are sure,” Juliet said warily, her frown finally breaking a little. “I…I do have something to share.”

“Yes,” Lydia urged, moving from Alice to her, “I am most certain. Now tell me! What is your news, dearest sister? I pray it is good.”

Juliet looked sheepishly around at their friends as if asking for their permission to move on. Lydia ignored the sliver of annoyance that went through her as she saw Barbara and Alice give her a cautious nod. She really did wish they would stop stressing. Did they really think she could not handle Ezra?

Their flirtations had increased steadily by the day, but no matter how wicked either of them became, every time she warned him to stop, he would. It would often leave her bristling and sensitive, with an unsteady hand on both her temper and her thoughts, but he had not laid an inappropriate hand upon her. Even though she sometimes secretly wanted him to do so.

“I have heard from Edmund,” Juliet continued, as a small but genuine smile began spreading across her face. “He has sent Papa a proper wedding proposal and Papa has agreed!”

Lydia, delightfully shocked at Juliet’s news, felt as if she could have been knocked over with a feather.

“That is…Juliet, that is amazing!” she said with awe, opening her arms to hug her younger sister.

“How? When? Why did you not write me about this?”

Juliet let out a soft laugh as she hugged Lydia back enthusiastically, and Lydia finally found their usual ease around one another slid back into place.

“I wanted to deliver the news in person,” Juliet explained, “And it took place under the strangest of circumstances. Edmund’s letter was delivered by his father about a month ago. He’d apparently made Papa an offer he could not refuse if he allowed the engagement to take place, although the details beyond that are not known to me. All I know is that I officially met the baron for the first time after he emerged with Papa from his office, and after he made his introduction he invited me to call him father.”

“But where is Edmund?” Lydia asked.

Her mind was already reeling with the added details, but she needed more.

“Still at sea,” Juliet explained, “Apparently he coordinated this all with his father after he wrote a brutally honest letter about how much he cares for me and means to make me his wife. He even offered his father an additional two years of service in the Navy if he could secure our marriage.”

“Is it not the most romantic story?” Helena sighed.

Lydia glanced away from Juliet and was relieved to see that the others had also relaxed.

“It truly is,” Lydia agreed heartily. Then, hoping to keep the momentum of the new topic going, she quickly added, “Now all of you, tell me everything.”

“She seems to be in one piece,” Morgan mused, his eyes on Lydia. All of their eyes were, to Ezra’s annoyance.

“A rather fine piece at that,” Morgan continued, “Heavens, chum, she looks downright gorgeous. Has she always been so lovely?”

Ezra slapped the back of Morgan’s head, followed by a gritted, “Get your eyes back in your head, you fool.” In a low voice, he added, “Of course she has always been.”

“Morgan has a right to be confused,” Ambrose countered, coming to his friend’s defense, “After two months of no contact, we have every right to wonder what had become of her.”

Ezra turned a bored look toward Duncan.

“Were you and your wife not in my home barely three weeks ago? Did you not find sufficient evidence of her good health?”

“Indeed, I was,” Duncan, agreed, swirling the scotch in his glass, “But I know how strong Lydia is, and she is very capable of putting on a good show.”

A deep, black anger sliced through Ezra, and because he was wearing his mask, he allowed himself to bare his teeth.

“The woman is a saint,” Ambrose acknowledged, tilting his glass toward Lydia and the other women in their lives. “To put up with all that you do. But word has spread. Your reputation already appears to be transitioning from Monster to Honorable Husband.”

“All that I do?” Ezra drawled, if for nothing other than his own morbid curiosity.

“Your…proclivities,” Ambrose muttered, having the grace to at least look away from Lydia before he said it.

Ezra’s anger suddenly twisted into amusement as he recalled Lydia’s jest on that topic, and he let a wicked chuckle slip past his lips.

“The last time I checked, you had some interesting proclivities yourself, old friend,” he replied dryly.

“Yes, but I stopped,” Ambrose replied, his tone low and edgy as he threw a tentative look toward Barbara and Helena.

So have I, Ezra thought to himself . Maria had been his last. Ceasing his intimate activities had not been a conscious decision. Indeed, after the blunt talk he and Lydia had on their wedding night, he knew he had her blessing to continue, but he no longer wanted to indulge in his former pastime.

It was not that he had lost his urges, if anything they had amplified, and annoyingly so. Most mornings when he awoke, he was so hard he could have used it to pound through a stone wall. It did not help that his dreams and his waking thoughts vividly portrayed a naked and panting Lydia. Though solo play was something he never enjoyed, he found himself needing to imbibe so that he could leave his rooms in the morning.

He knew that he could avoid all of these issues if he simply demanded that Lydia assume all of her wifely duties... But he did not want to force her, even when he sometimes felt her curiosity pique during their teasing. No, he would not do that. Working with Lydia had become too enjoyable and too successful to draw away from, and he would not threaten what they had created.

They did not know that, though, and Ezra decided they did not need to, either.

“Good for you, Ambrose. It takes a strong man to discontinue bad habits,” Ezra offered wryly, raising his glass toward him.

Ambrose gave him a flat look, then shook his head.

“While I am honored that it is still obvious that I am feared and revered in some circles, I am afraid the rest of our darling society is changing its collective mind,” Ezra replied in his usual bored tone, “Think whatever you want of me. All I know is that Lydia and I are succeeding in our work, and that is all I care about.”

His friends began to chirp their sarcastic remarks, but a booming voice muffled them from a few paces to their left.

“Your Grace! My heavens, what a delight to see you here!”

All four dukes turned toward the rather loud and cheerful shout from their left, and Ezra smiled from beneath his mask as he saw Lord Issac Watergate, his new client, and his wife, Nora, smiling at him with joy as they approached.

“They are speaking to you?” Morgan asked, the surprise obvious in his voice.

“Of course they are,” Ezra retorted, before turning and providing a gracious bow to the couple.

“Lord Frampton, what a happy coincidence!” Lady Watergate said enthusiastically, offering her hand to him.

After slipping off his mask, he laid a chaste kiss on her knuckles, and as he turned to Lord Watergate he replied, “Indeed it is! How did you know it was me?”

Lady Watergate laughed in her usual high-pitched, birdlike manner, and flittered her hand at him.

“No one could pull off such a devilish costume but you, Your Grace,” she replied.

“It is true, though, I am surprised I do not see any horns atop your mask,” Lord Watergate added, his tone playful.

Ezra noted the second his friends’ bodies subtly shifted as if getting ready to step in if he took things too far.

“I thought it would be a little too on the nose…or horn ,” Ezra jested, giving the man a wink.

The couple laughed as the jaws of his friends collectively dropped, and he smirked before he continued with the show.

“Lydia will be most joyous to see that you are here, Lady Watergate. I believe she is just over there with some friends.”

Ezra, playing the game he and Lydia had created so well, provided proper introductions among his small group of friends as well as the band of ladies surrounding Lydia. As he did so, he did not miss the skeptical, surprised looks his friends kept throwing at him. He stunned them again when he complimented the couple’s costumes.

“They all sound so lovely,” Nora gushed, “I shall go join them and leave you gentlemen to it. Oh, I am so happy you are here! I thought I was going to have to be stuck with my husband all evening with no one to talk to.”

“Oh, I am so boring, am I?” Lord Watergate asked though he was clearly teasing as he smiled down at his wife.

In turn, Lady Watergate reached up and cupped her husband’s cheek affectionately and winked.

“Only when you speak business, darling.”

“So, always, then,” the lord replied with a sarcastic grin.

Ezra watched their interaction with amusement. He had never pictured the wives or children of his associates before, nor had he assumed any strong emotions existed amongst them. Now, though, he’d begun to notice these things between couples; how they looked at one another; whether or not they jested. During the last two months, he had observed that the men with families were far more dedicated to making money than those without.

“I do hope you do not object if I insert myself into your group for the evening,” Lord Watergate said with an apologetic look, “But, as my wife inferred, we have been suffering through business talk. I would most appreciate a recess if you would permit me.”

“Of course,” Ezra replied, waving over a servant carrying a drink tray.

“Bloody hell. Who are you, mate? And what have you done with Ezra?” Morgan murmured to him as the others quickly pulled Watergate into talk of hunting.

Ezra smirked as his eyes focused on Lydia. She was, as usual, making her new guest feel welcome and accepted.

“Whatever do you mean, Morgan?” Ezra drawled lazily.

A few hours later, Ezra found himself grateful for his mask. Lydia had gone beyond the call of duty with the Watergates, but she had also achieved something else, something far more important, and she deserved something to acknowledge her success.

With one eye on her and the other on his friends, Ezra watched as the mood of their little party shifted from one of concern to joy. Lydia’s responses had been curated to soothe and calm every worry they expressed. She appeared simultaneously cautious and at ease, just as he did. She never became ruffled or annoyed, even when Duncan and Ambrose made remarks about his demonic nature and created a welcoming space for the Watergates to fully become a part of their conversations.

“Might I steal my wife for one moment?” Ezra mused, stepping between Ambrose and Helena in the circle.

The two of them, as well as most of the others, gave him a careful look. Now, though, there was no vitriol in their eyes. Lydia’s eyes, though, were the only ones he was truly focusing on; and when those gold and bronze flecks glittered back at him, he felt that usual tug and heat in his groin.

“You will bring her back,” Alice said almost worriedly as Lydia stepped toward his offered hand.

“Of course, he will,” Lydia answered before Ezra could retort. “Honestly, sister, you act as though my husband is intimidating.”

Ezra nearly laughed aloud as she slipped her hand into his, giving it a tight squeeze. At her touch, Ezra felt heat shoot from his palm up his forearm, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze in return as he guided her toward the hallway.