Page 39 of Trapped with the Forbidden Duke
“Oh, when they were younger, Nicholas was always singing Edwina’s praises,” Lady Isabel sighed. “I do not know why he no longer does—it is such a shame. But I miss the sound of their laughter together.”
Lucien’s eyes settled on Lady Edwina, on how she seemed to shrink at the comment. He finally saw through the panic that he’d seen so often during their search for Nicholas and glimpsed the woman who missed her brother. She must be longing to have whatever she had lost with him.
Yet, all he could think about was how, even with her sad eyes and the pinched corners of her mouth, she looked beautiful.
He wanted to kiss her name onto her skin. He wanted to make her come alive with confidence beneath his guidance and hands.
His desire caught him off guard, so much so that he coughed as he tried to chase away his lustful thoughts.
It is simply the dress.I have never been so enthralled by a woman when she wears a fine gown as opposed to a simple one. I am not so ruffled. So it must be the dress.
“How so?” Lucien asked, dragging his attention away from Lady Edwina, secretly pleased with the deeper blush that spread across her cheeks. “I am most intrigued.”
“One time, the former Earl hosted a ball for Edwina’s tenth birthday, and oh, young Edwina stayed put long enough to be dressed and styled for the occasion, but as soon as everyone’s back was turned, she fled into the garden. When she was announced in the ballroom, was young Edwina there?”
Lady Isabel laughed loud enough that Lucien wondered how Nicholas hadn’t woken up.
“No, she was not! The whole room was in a flurry, searching for her. Her brother found her tangled in a tree.”
“A tree?” Lucien asked.
“A large oak that she used to play around. Except Nicholas had told her that she would not be able to climb it and be back in time for the ball. Edwina was stubborn, of course. But she did not climb down well enough. Poor girl was discovered by half the party with twigs and leaves in her hair. Her mother went white as a sheet.”
“I am sure His Grace does not need to know about my childish whims,” Lady Edwina muttered. “That was a decade ago, Aunt Isabel.”
“These are cherished memories, dear girl.” Lady Isabel waved her off impatiently. “As was the time you entered the wrong room at Lady Hatterly’s afternoon tea, thinking you were already a lady of the ton at the tender age of five-and-ten.” She chortled to herself. “The little embarrassed apples of your cheeks were rather endearing.”
“I believe your wine has proven to be too rich, Your Grace,” Lady Edwina muttered. “My aunt is rather inebriated. Do forgive her.”
“She spins fine stories,” Lucien countered, eager to hear more—to know how a childhood like that had shaped the woman she had become. “And the wine was merely picked to match the lady of the household.”
His eyes lingered on her, dragging across her features as if he might map her out that way.
Lady Isabel was still so preoccupied with muttering to herself and digging into her meal that she did not notice how the Duke spoke with her niece.
“You flatter me greatly,” Lady Edwina murmured, taking a sip of her wine.
A droplet stained her lower lip a deep red, and something twisted in Lucien’s stomach, a roar of desire for a brief, sparking moment. And when her tongue swiped it, he wished it was his own.
“I do not flatter you enough,” he told her, emboldened.
It is the dress.It is the wine.
Neither the dress nor the wine had prompted him to kiss her several days ago, and he did not know how much longer he could hold out in Montgomery Manor, telling himself foolish excuses as to why he sought her out over and over.
“Oh! That’s it!” Lady Isabel cried, startling them both and drawing their gazes to her. “Edwina, do you recall that dreadful dinner at the Simmons’ residence? It wasquitea disaster, Your Grace. Edwina was soon to debut—perhaps seventeen or so. I accompanied her along with the former Earl. Anyway, there was a young lord—what was his name, Edwina?”
Lady Edwina’s eyes narrowed. “I do not recall.”
“I am sure you do.” Lady Isabel’s voice was vibrating with excitement. “Lord… Lord Ciaran, was it not?”
“It was not,” Lady Edwina answered tightly, her cheeks flushed as she looked away from her aunt.
“No, it indeed was. You were so busy looking at him that you missed your mouth while helping yourself to your soup! Oh, you had so many mishaps. And now, here you are. Heavens, were it not for His Grace, this house would have been a shambles of twigs and leaves, as you were!”
Lady Isabel laughed to herself, shaking her head. The poor woman was red in the face from her own amusement.
“I am sure next time we may tell him some embarrassing stories about Nicholas,” Lady Edwina offered, smiling a little. “After all, I am merely the sister and daughter of earls. I am sure his stories will be much more entertaining.”
