Page 8 of How to Bewitch a Duke (Lady Be Seductive #3)

Seven

T he sky was thick with the promise of rain, and the air was cool, carrying with it the scent of wet earth and greenery. Isla Thompson walked swiftly, her breath quickening with anticipation, though her heart beat with a hesitant rhythm. She was determined. Determined to meet Lucian as he had asked, determined to find the words that had been kept locked inside her heart for far too long.

The willow tree stood ahead, its long, trailing branches hanging low, swaying gently in the breeze. It had always been a place of solace, a place of memories—a place where she had once believed in the power of love and promises. She could not count how many hours she had spent beneath this very tree with Lucian, dreaming of a future they would never have.

But now, after all the years and all the heartache, she was ready. She had come to terms with the fact that no matter the dangers or uncertainties, she loved him, and that love was worth the risk. If he had come to her, asking for a second chance, then she was willing to give him one. She would find him beneath the tree and tell him—tell him that she loved him, that she was willing to try again, that she could no longer live with the regret of what could have been.

As she neared the tree, a shadow moved from the underbrush, and Isla froze. A chill swept over her as a man stepped into her path. His features were obscured by the hood of his dark cloak, but there was no mistaking that it was not who she had intended to meet. This man was not Lucian and she did not recognize him. Isla’s blood ran cold as her gaze met the grim, calculating eyes of the stranger.

“Lady Isla,” the man said with a sneer, his voice carrying a venomous edge that sent a shiver down her spine. “So lovely to see you, though I had hoped it would not come to this.” His eyes, a cold blue, sent shivers over her. “But I’m afraid I must insist you come with me. My dear nephew has made a mistake—one he must pay for.”

Isla took a cautious step back. “I don’t understand. Who is your nephew?” she demanded, her voice steady despite the fear rising in her chest. “I am here to meet the Duke of Thornridge. You should leave before he arrives.” Where was Lucian? He had said he would stay until sunset, and that was some time off yet. She thought she had time. Had she miscalculated or misunderstood his note?

“Is he now,” the man scoffed, cutting her off. “Are you certain about that. You, my dear, have been nothing but a pawn in the duke’s game and that made it easy for me to manipulate you.” His lip curled into a cruel smile. “But now, you’re going to help me finish this. My nephew thought to thwart me, but he has never been more wrong. I will not be bested.”

Before Isla could react, the man moved swiftly, his hand seized her wrist in a tight grip. She tried to jerk free, but he was stronger than she had anticipated. As she struggled it started to become clear in her mind. This man—he was Lucian’s uncle. The one he thought would be a danger to her. He had not lied. “You are going to come with me,” he hissed. “My nephew has made a mockery of everything, and I intend to make him pay for his arrogance. And you, Lady Isla, will be the perfect leverage.”

Isla’s heart thudded in her chest, her mind racing. She had no idea how Lucian’s uncle had known where she would be, but she couldn’t think about that now. Her focus had to be on escaping him.

“Let me go!” she cried, struggling against his hold, but his grip only tightened.

“Ah, but I am afraid that’s not an option,” he purred, his voice low and dangerous. “My nephew might think he’s in control, but he will soon realize that mistake. You are his weakness, the fool.” He smirked as he pulled her with him toward the nearby woods. “Now, come along, my dear. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Lucian had been pacing his study at Thornridge, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours, when he heard the pounding of hooves and the distant clatter of carriage wheels. His chest tightened. His thoughts, always in turmoil since the moment he had seen Isla after his uncle’s arrest, were now filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

He had been so certain that Isla would meet him under the willow tree—that he would be able to speak the words he had kept hidden for so long. But she had not arrived. The thought that she had changed her mind, that she was too hurt to forgive him, gnawed at him. No. She would come. She had to. His breath caught as the door flew open the butler, entered with an urgent look in his eyes. “Your Grace,” he said, his voice tight, “You have a caller.”

“Who is it,” Lucian demanded, his voice sharp. He had already feared something was amiss, and he had a sinking feeling that he was about to get terrible news.

“A Mr. Stratton is here to see you,” the Greaves, the butler said. “Do you wish for me to escort him into your study?.”

“Yes,” he told Greaves. “If he is here then I must speak with him.” There was only one reason that Stratton would have for coming to Thornridge. Something must have gone wrong with his uncle and that terrified him.

He did not have long to wait. Greaves escorted Mr. Stratton into the room. There was a grave expression on the investigator’s face. He did not have good news to impart, but he had expected as much. He met Lucian’s gaze and said, “I fear I must tell you that your uncle escaped the magistrate’s escort to prison.”

He cursed under his breath. He had expected it would concern his uncle but hoped he would be proven wrong. “Is the man incompetent? How did he escape?”

“I cannot attest to his competence Your Grace,” Mr. Stratton began. “I am not familiar with him. But I received word that your uncle had slipped free and I am afraid it is worse than that.”

How could it possibly be worse? “Tell me,” he ordered.

“It’s Lady Isla Thompson, Your Grace.” He had no expression on his face as he finished, “I am afraid you uncle has taken her.”

Lucian’s heart stopped. “Taken?” He had to have heard that wrong.

“By your uncle, Your Grace,” Stratton confirmed, repeating the words that had stolen his ability to think, he lowered his voice as he continued speaking, “We’ve learned after he escaped custody he went here, and has been watching you—watching her. He sent this to be given to you.”

Mr. Stratton held out a sealed missive. “You do not know what is written within?”

“No, Your Grace,” he said. “We believed it was best that you were the only one to read it. We do hope you will share the contents of the note, but it has your name on it.”

Lucian took the letter from Stratton’s hands, his heart pounding in his chest. The weight of the missive felt too heavy in his grasp, as though it were not merely paper and ink, but a physical manifestation of his deepest fears. His gaze flicked to the wax seal. It bore the insignia of his uncle, Michael Oliver, a crude mockery of the family crest that Lucian had been born to carry with pride.

The room seemed to grow smaller, the air thick with the suffocating pressure of his uncle’s betrayal. His thoughts were scattered as he broke the seal with trembling hands and unfolded the letter. The words inside were stark, almost too precise in their cruelty:

Lucian,

You have always been so blinded by your sense of duty and honor that you cannot see what has always been in front of you. You think yourself so clever, don’t you? Well, it’s time to pay the price for all your misguided decisions.

Lady Isla Thompson is now in my care. I’ve taken her to a place where you will not find her so easily. You will not be rid of me so quickly, and I will make sure you regret ever crossing me. As for your title, you are no longer worthy of it, and I will see to it that it belongs to me—if not through blood, then by force. I will not be made a fool by you, nephew. If you wish to see Isla again, come find her. But know that time is not on your side, and she may soon join your father in hell.

Michael

Lucian’s fingers tightened around the letter, his body going rigid with a fury he had not known he was capable of. The words echoed in his mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. He had not only taken Isla but had threatened to end her life. His uncle was no longer just a stain on his past; he was a tangible threat to his future, and he would not allow him to destroy Isla. Especially as she still doubted his love for her.

Lucian’s jaw clenched, the anger building in him like a storm. He turned to Stratton, his voice cold with resolve. “We need to find her. Now.”

“I will organize a search immediately, Your Grace,” Stratton replied, his own expression tense. “But we must be careful. Your uncle is not a man to underestimate. He will be hiding well, and his network of associates is extensive.”

“I don’t care about his associates,” Lucian said, his voice low and fierce. “We are not going to sit idly by while he threatens Isla’s life.”

Stratton hesitated, then nodded. “I will gather my team at once. We will leave no stone unturned.”

Lucian paced the room, his mind racing. He needed Isla. Needed to make sure she was safe, to make sure she knew how much he loved her, how much he regretted pushing her away all those years ago. And now, more than ever, he had to find her before his uncle’s plans could come to fruition.

He did not wait for Stratton to finish his preparations. Lucian turned on his heel and strode to the door. “I will go myself. I’ll start at the places he might be hiding nearby. I know how his mind works, and I doubt he has gone far. He will want to witness my suffering.” His uncle alluded that he would have taken Isla where Lucian would never find her, but he did not believe that. Besides, even if that had been his intentions, he could not have gained much ground in such little time. He would find them, and he would ensure his uncle paid for this treachery once and for all. He had been trying to be kind in letting him live but that had been a mistake.

“Your Grace, I must insist,” Stratton said, moving quickly to intercept him. “You are in no condition to search alone. We will go together. It will be far more effective.”

Lucian met his gaze, his resolve clear. “I will not sit here and wait while Isla is in danger. I won’t lose her again.”

Stratton stepped aside with a reluctant nod. “As you wish, Your Grace. Please allow e some time to assemble a team. I promise we will not waste time.”

Lucian didn’t need another word. He turned sharply; his mind was set. He could not, would not lose Isla. She was his heart, and he would tear the earth apart to find her. As he mounted his horse and rode into the night, the rain began to fall in sheets, as though the heavens themselves wept for what was to come. But Lucian cared for nothing but the woman he loved and the fight to protect her. He would stop at nothing. He would not let his uncle get away with this.