Page 24 of The Marquess' Wicked Wager
“And he was angry?”
“Oh, he wasn’t angry. Much in the way a child isn’t angry when someone swipes their favorite toy. He was belligerent. There was no talking him down. He wanted to play for your hand again, but I refused.”
“The wager must not have been sweet enough,” Edna mused with a soft smile, and Albert felt himself looking at her with all the tenderness in the world. He didn’t know why. He feared hecouldn’tknow why—it wasn’t in his blood to feel as he felt when he looked at her. This perfect stranger, who, since he had met her, had commanded his every move with her very existence.
“No, it was the sweetest. More than I could ask,” he admitted, his voice welling with emotion. “But it wasn’t right.” He chuckled darkly. “And now I’m seeing him wherever I go, like a madman.”
Edna edged closer to him. And, to his surprise, he felt her fingers tickling his own at his side. Without looking at her, without even thinking, he laced his hand through hers.
“I do not think you are mad,” Edna lilted, and her voice was faint against the sound of the breeze. “I think you are very gallant.”
“You don’t know me,” he argued gently, the air between them growing thick. He looked at her, and she looked back at him, and the world existed only for the two of them. “I would like for you to know me.”
And then, without a second thought, he reached his other hand to cup her face and gently brought her in. His lips drifted just above hers, and he could taste the sweetness on her breath. But it was not to be because the door to the garden swung open with a creak. Behind them stood the Duke.
Albert heard his father clap—slow, taunting clapping. He stepped toward them, and there was nowhere to run. His silhouette was dark and menacing against the amber light from the house.
“Do not stop on my account,” his father breathed, and the sound of it set his veins on fire.
Albert stepped in front of Edna. “Leave us. She is mine now.”
His father whistled and dropped his hands at last. “My, my… I had not anticipated such hostility. Why, I merely came to celebrate your most fortunate betrothal. Is that not my right? My duty? To see my son on his way?”
“Albert,” Edna whispered behind him, and there was caution in her voice. But he was frozen in place.
“I am so very happy,” the Duke continued, bringing his hands behind his back.
“Is that so?” Albert graveled.
“Of course. You have done me the greatest favor.” His father stepped forward and came into the light. Albert could see every last drop of malice in his expression. “What an honor to welcome Miss Worthington into our family; that I might see her whenever I want, for however long I want...”
Albert was luminous with anger. He stepped forward with a choked growl, but Edna held him back.
“Your sordid game has ended, father. You have lost.”
The Duke simply smirked. “That is where you are wrong, Albert. The game has only just begun.”
ChapterEleven
Edna had barely slept that night. She had been plagued by nightmares beyond count, almost all of which had featured the Duke. She could still recall how frightened she had felt as he pushed them to a precipice the night before—albeit not on a cliffside but before a pond. And his threat…
No, she urged herself inwardly. If she thought of it anymore, she would be doing exactly what he wanted. She would be playing right into his hand, and it would ruin the moments she spent with Albert.
As such, she dressed with as much purpose as she could, needing to bring some order to her thoughts through her garments. The head housemaid coiffed her as simply—a large, gentle braid that trailed behind her back. She didn’t dally after that, needing to find company to distract herself with. Hoping, despite herself, to see Albert post-haste.
“My jewel has risen,” Violet cried from her perch as Edna entered the room. She blinked her weary eyes to make sure they were not deceiving her. Her godmother was alone with only her lady’s maid for company.
“This is not quite the reception I imagined,” Edna said as she took up a seat opposite Violet. Her godmother whispered something to her maid, and she trotted off quickly. “What was all that about?”
Violet breathed a laugh and circled the table, sitting beside Edna and snatching her plate from where she had been sitting. “Nothing at all, darling. I was merely starving for conversation, and Lilibeth was the only person I had on hand,” she explained as she poured Edna some tea, much to the dismay of their butler.
“I don’t understand,” Edna murmured. “Why are we alone? Where is papa? Where is—”Albert, she wished to say, but did not want to run the risk of Violet questioning her further. It was bad enough she needed to lie to her. Better to avoid rousing her curiosity and falling into a trap.
Much the mother hen, Violet began piling Edna’s plate with small croissants, candied plums, and bacon. “The man has gone for a ride,” she said with a grimace. “Jonathan suggested we all head out to Hyde Park to get some air. He knows a quiet spot by the Serpentine. We are to meet them there.”
Edna huffed and looked down at her plate. Her heart was besieged with worry, and nothing seemed to stir her appetite. She picked up a plum, not wanting to scare Violet into hand-feeding her. “I was under the impression the engagement soiree was to be a one-night affair.”
“’Tis, of course. It shall only be us and a few acquaintances. I believe Lord Miles intends to bridge the gap between your father and his nephew. To get him to spend some time with the Marquess and smooth things over so that you might wed in peace. It will be good for Worthington to see the Marquess for who he is. Jonathan couldn’t speak of him more highly.”
