Page 38 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
He was frustrated—at the lack of information, at how secretive Logan was, at Logan himself for everything he had done to him, at his cousin for not just staying out of trouble, and at himself for slacking up so much on his investigation.
He should have worked harder, faster, caught everything he needed before it slipped away.
Channeling all of that frustration into his punches, he fought his way through the gang of thugs, and by the time he stepped back, six men were on the ground, groaning.
Edmund spat blood, his hair falling in his face. His knuckles were split and smeared with blood, and he couldn’t quite remember the whole fight, having lost himself to that violent calm that overtook him ever since he had become a fighter to survive.
“Edmund, are you all?—”
Edmund rounded on his cousin, angrily jabbing a finger into his chest. “I told you to stay home,” he snapped, furious.
He wrenched himself away from Benjamin, from the men slowly picking themselves up from the ground and fleeing, and from the dead ends that London was full of.
“I tried to help!” Benjamin protested, but Edmund ignored him. Fury swirled through him, and if he gave his cousin a moment of consideration, he’d snap at him too. “Edmund!”
At Edmund’s icy silence, Benjamin finally relented, sighing.
“Fine!” he shouted. “Go alone, do it all by yourself, but when you do need me—” He cut himself off.
Edmund couldn’t help but wonder if his cousin wanted to say that he wouldn’t be there. He slowed his gait, his jaw still clenched in anger, his mind whirring.
Benjamin sighed behind him. “When you do need me, all you need to do is ask.”
I will not.
But Edmund didn’t voice that thought. He only waved a dismissive hand, a final warning for his cousin to go home, as he did.
Disappointment chased him through the streets, sang through his stinging knuckles and aching jaw.
When he finally reached his townhouse, he collapsed onto a settee in the parlor, drained and numb, his anger having long left him cold and empty.
ChapterTen
“Knock, knock.”
Penelope whirled at her brother’s voice, a sharp cry tearing from her throat as she rushed to cover herself.
“Finley!”
She was practically ready, her lady’s maid finishing with the straps of her dress and the laces at the back. Her arms crossed over her chest. She was covered by her gown, but being caught not quite ready made her heart jump with nerves.
Finley stood in the doorway, looking her over in a way that made her feel as though she was not dressed at all. She tightened her arms around herself, her shoulders curling inwards.
She cleared her throat. “F-Finley, you ought to let a woman dress privately.”
“You are covered, are you not?” He gestured to her body, and she wished to shrink away.
Shyly, she nodded. “Yes, but still.”
“We are siblings,” he scoffed, waving her off. “If you must be shy around a man you have known almost all your life, then I believe we have some issues to discuss.” He flashed her a smile that he likely thought was teasing, but Penelope felt unnerved by it. “Where are you going? We do not have any calls today.”
“I am sure I can do something without it beingus, Finley,” Penelope said, her voice smarting but trying to be bolder.
Her brother’s eyes narrowed. “Do not tell me you are meeting a suitor. Nobody has approached me to ask?—”
“I am going shopping with Cecilia!” she countered, slightly exasperated. “No suitors,nothing. Just two women shopping.”
Will you give me your permission for that, Brother?
