Page 9 of Trapped with the Forbidden Duke
“We need help.” Despite the desperation in her voice, her eyes were blazing with determination. “So you must not leave this room.”
“And who are you to give me orders?”
At that, the woman glared at him.
He dug around in his memories of his friendship with Nicholas Vaughan and recalled a mention of his sister.
Elizabeth, or Emily, or something like that. Around ten years younger than him—no, not quite. Just under. That would put her at twenty years old, as Nicholas would be nine-and-twenty now.
Taking her silence as an opportunity to speak, Lucien continued, “The Nicholas I know would have never asked for help, let alone his little sister.”
“I am not hislittlesister,” she hissed. “My name is Edwina Vaughan. I am my own woman, not an attachment to Nicholas.”
Edwina, that was it.
Lucien listened but recognized her deflecting from the topic at hand. There was more. Her eyes kept darting around as if she expected someone to materialize out of thin air. Who, though? Why did they need such help, and from whom, that she would be so scared to have either of them leave the room?
“If you do not explain your situation to me, then I cannot help you,” Lucien bit out. “And if I cannot help you, then I will leave?—”
Lady Edwina slammed her back against the door, stopping him from reaching for the handle, grasping it tightly. If she thought he wouldn’t reach around her, press her against the door, and slide his hand down her wrist to pry her hand off the doorknob, then she was mistaken.
“So, you admit you will not assist me out of the goodness of your heart?” she asked. “I do not recall such a thing about you.”
She was bluffing—she likely didn’t remember very much about him at all.
He laughed. “Oh, Lady Edwina, you are sorely mistaken if you think I have any goodness in my heart—or a heart at all, for that matter.”
Defeat hit her again, making her shoulders slump. He wondered if they would roll back if he touched them to guide them back to their initial position.
“Our finances… It is all a case of poor management after our father’s death last year. Nicholas… he has not had a chance to get the estate in order.”
“Why not?” Lucien asked, his tone harsh and judgmental. “He was always very level-headed.”
Something passed over her face, another concealed piece of the picture, and Lucien sighed, shaking his head.
“I grow tired of your lies and omittances, Lady Edwina. Have a good evening. Do not send your brother my regards.”
With that, he reached around her, eliciting a sweet gasp from her as he pressed close and yanked the door open, despite her putting all her weight against it.
He easily maneuvered her out of the way, and he met her stricken eyes briefly, silently telling her that she was not so heavy that he could not take her weight.
“Wait!” she cried out. “Wait, I-I am sorry. Close the door, and I will tell you.”
“This is your last chance,” he growled. “One too many people have tested my patience today. I am not in the mood for more games.”
“No more games,” she said quickly. “I promise.”
With another snarl under his breath, he slammed the door shut, keeping them in the private room.
He rounded on her. “Speak,” he ordered.
And she did.
“The Earl of Stockton has got us in a bind,” she blurted out. “He is the lord you were due to meet, and he sent me ahead to…” She paused, as though the words tasted bitter on her tongue. “Seduce you, so you would be more amenable to doing business with him. He says he has been trying to form a partnership with you for some time and grew tired of your selfishness and thinking he is beneath you, when he sees you investing with other lords.”
Stockton.
Lucien cursed under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are coming with me.”
