Page 97 of Trapped with the Forbidden Duke
Lucien ignored such worries. He and Edwina had yet to decide on having children, although he had not seen her take any tonics after their tumbles.
“I suppose it depends,” Edwina told him. “Personally, I wished for a quick offer of courtship. Seeing the state my brother was in, I did not want to waste time. However, it was more about security and ensuring that Nicholas would be supported, too.”
“I believe I sped up the process,” Lucien teased.
“Indeed.”
“Edwina, had this been an average courtship, would you have accepted my offer?”
His wife blinked up at him, her lips parting in surprise. He did not really know where his question had come from, and he wondered at how she seemed to disarm him more and more lately. He found himself feeling more vulnerable than usual around her.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes, I believe I would have.”
“Even though we bickered terribly?”
“We still do.” She giggled, leaning into him as he twirled her around the edge of the dance floor, only to lead her down the length of it.
He liked seeing the flush that always bloomed on her cheeks during her happiest moments. She giggled freely, and he felt as though he was on the edge of the world, his happiness unmatched.
Until the sight of a figure on the edge of the dance floor had him halting abruptly.
“Stop,” he hissed, not meaning to sound so harsh.
Edwina stumbled to a stop, confused. But Lucien could not look away from his uncle, and he could not school his features.
Until his uncle approached them boldly.
“Nephew,” Barnard Fitzgerald greeted, bowing. “I do not wish to intrude, but I was hoping to meet your wife at last.”
Like this, Lucien could barely refuse. Not in front of the other guests, and not at Jasper’s ball. He would not cause a scene, and, despite his feelings, he could not keep Edwina away from his family forever.
His stomach dropped as he stepped away. “If you upset her, I will make you regret it,” he muttered darkly.
“I would not dream of such a thing, Lucien,” Barnard said, sounding hurt. “I only wish to greet the Duchess and ask her to dance.”
To his dismay, Lucien had to agree.
After nodding to his uncle, he turned to Edwina and leaned close to her. He made to tell her not to ask Barnard all the questions he had refused to answer, to tell her not to listen to a word his uncle said, but in the end, he only kissed her knuckles.
“I will be right there, should you need me.”
Before his frustration could take over, as it had with Allan that day, Lucien walked off the dance floor. He kept his eye on his wife and uncle, watching as Edwina’s confused smile turned more genuine as her gaze flicked to him and then back to Barnard.
Lucien’s anger was simmering. He was not furious, but more taken aback at how his uncle had chosen that moment to present himself.
As they danced, Lucien could not help but feel his uncle’s betrayal. He thought of Edwina beseeching him to give Barnard another chance to make amends, but he had not been able to. Every time he came close to thinking about it, he could only remember Barnard’s complicity in his wife’s schemes, and everything in him would hurt all over again.
Edwina’s smile relaxed further the more she danced, and he wanted to pry her free from the Fitzgeralds’ grasps—Allan, Barnard, and even Rose—and keep her at his side, where he could keep her safe.
He could barely stand it any longer when the dance finally ended.
Barnard brought Edwina back, but Lucien could only say in a tight voice, “I will speak with you privately. Now, Uncle Barnard. Edwina, I will be back shortly.”
“Lucien—”
He could only listen to the blood rushing in his ears as he led his uncle out of the ballroom, to another room off the main hallway. It was a smaller, empty parlor, and he slammed the door shut behind them, rounding on Barnard.
The man started, his gray-streaked blond hair quivering slightly. “Lucien, I?—”
