Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

“ W here are we going?” Lydia whispered, smiling as she and Ezra strolled arm-in-arm down yet another corridor.

“To find some privacy,” Ezra remarked in his usual tone.

His eyes were searching the hallway and its many doors as they walked, looking for something she could not fathom.

“Privacy for what?” she asked warily.

The only reason she could think of why he needed a private moment with her was for a reprimand, but she could not recall doing anything wrong. They had not expected the Watergates to be there, but she thought she had expertly managed their unexpected addition to their group and had even seemed to soothe their friends’ strangely hostile tempers.

“For your reward,” he replied matter-of-factly, finally stopping at a door and opening it.

Curiosity burned in her as she removed her mask, revealed a side smile, and raised one eyebrow. Ezra also removed his mask, revealing a playful if not wicked smirk. He looked almost pleased to see caution flitting across her face.

“Go on,” he urged gently, pointing his chin toward the darkened room.

Lydia walked past Ezra’s bowing figure and into the room. Reward? That word certainly had not been used by him before. The room was dark and unoccupied, far away from the party and its guests. Ezra said nothing as she lit a candle and slowly walked around the room, but after she’d finished her inspection, she turned back and saw that he was staring intently at her in his usual relaxed position, one leg slightly out from the other, hands in his pockets.

Lydia felt the now-familiar stir of desire as she took in her unmasked husband and offered him a wry smile. He was teasing her, surely. Perhaps even playing a little trick on their friends just to get back at them, by taking her out of their sight so they were left with their most worrying thoughts. It was not above Ezra to play such a move.

“Is this room my reward, husband?” she asked, waving an arm around the empty space. “For if it is, I am grateful, but I need no respite from our unexpected work. Indeed, I am enjoying the evening quite immensely.”

Ezra chuckled darkly at her response, making her cheeks grow warm.

“Quite the contrary, my darling,” he purred, taking a step toward her, “You see, I think you do.”

Ezra’s deep, coaxing voice slid around her ears and made her shiver as he continued to approach, and she realized he was not jesting. As she’d demanded, they had neither kissed nor truly embraced since their wedding night. But now, as he walked up to her with pure satisfaction in his eyes, she let her arms slide around his neck and her body settle against the front of his.

She trembled with pleasure as she felt his warmth press up against her and his arms wrap around her waist.

“You have asked me to stay away from…certain marital practices,” he mused, his fingers trailing seductively up her spine, “But I believe that it may be time to make an exception.”

Alarm slithered through her, but Lydia let out a raspy chuckle as she felt Ezra’s hand slide to the back of her neck and massage her muscles there. Despite the release of tension and the dizzying sensations, she managed to get out a sarcastic, “Ah, so this is a reward for you , not me.”

A small, slightly condescending chuckle left Ezra’s throat as he shook his head. He began to step forward then, and though she nearly stumbled at first, Ezra gripped her securely to him and started walking her backward.

“Not all such practices are designed for pleasing men, you know,” his deep voice teased as he brushed the tip of his nose against her own. “Though I will thoroughly enjoy this.”

Lydia shivered and gasped, and when his lips came down on hers, she could not even pretend to want him to stop. It had been amusing at first, keeping herself out of his reach. But now, as he parted her lips and massaged his tongue over hers, she realized that she had been denying herself as much as she had been denying him.

The moment his wild, untamed taste hit her tongue, Lydia let out a strangled moan and pressed herself more tightly to him. A snarl and a whispered curse she could not understand broke free from Ezra’s lips before he deepened the kiss, pressing her into him as if he could combine their two bodies into one and then he stopped.

Panting, breathless, and with lips swollen, Lydia could not grasp what was happening as she felt herself being lowered into an extremely cushioned reading chair. She blinked, her vision hazy with lust, and in the low light, she saw Ezra on his knees before her.

“Ezra-” she panted, but he interrupted her with a soothing “shhhh” before leaning forward and kissing her again.

This time, though, Ezra’s hands did not stay in one place but instead wandered and roamed over her corseted waist, her breasts, and her neck. His lips soon followed, taking their time to stop and suckle or nip at whatever expanse of flesh he could nuzzle into until Lydia felt nothing but longing and oversensitivity.

How could his lips at her neck steal her thoughts? How could his teeth teasing her cleavage render her body nothing more than a jumble of trembling nerves? Such questions flooded her mind as Ezra slowly continued his exploration along the length of her body.

“Wait,” she gasped as he began to slide the ample skirt of her gown up to her waist, “What are you…”

“You have no idea how greatly it pleased me that you did not wear the red,” Ezra rasped, curling his fingers around her knees.

Lydia remained silent as she let him slowly spread her legs, her eyes unable to leave his face. Ezra’s normally cloaked expression was now full of wonder and hunger as he viewed her.

“You have no idea how much it pleases me when you obey,” he went on as his fingers first trailed down her stockings, then up again, past her knees, her thighs, until he reached her secret place.

“Oh!” Lydia gasped.

Pleasure, unlike anything she had experienced before, jolted through her as Ezra’s fingers; so very gentle and skilled, began to move against that little sensitive bead between her legs.

“What is… eunn” Lydia’s question turned into a moan as Ezra’s fingers worked a little faster, and she felt a wet warmth splash against her thighs.

Ezra let out a guttural sound of approval as Lydia’s fingers began to curl into the arms of the chair, but he continued his slow ministrations; his smile growing more and more wicked as he brought her closer to a final frenzy.

This is wrong.

The thought came from somewhere deep inside of her mind, pulling her away from the pleasure of the moment. They were at a party in someone else’s house, and this was one of their rooms! What if someone walked in and saw them?

The thought vanished as Ezra dipped his tongue between her legs and replaced his fingers. Pleasure, far more than before, tore through her body so vividly that she arched her back and let out a strangled cry.

“Hush, darling,” Ezra’s deep voice drifted from under her skirts, “We don’t want any interruptions. Not that it would stop me.”

Lydia gasped at his threat, but she quickly became unable to think, unable to do anything but give in to her pleasure. She pressed her lips together tightly and pushed the back of her head against the cushioned chair, trying her best to stop the little noises coming from her throat.

Lick. Suckle. Thrust. Lick. Suckle. Thrust. Ezra’s tongue stayed in perfect tempo, raising her pleasure to a peak with every small suckle of her clitoris, then bringing her back down again with gentle, insistent licks to her vulva.

His mouth was hot and needy against her most sacred flesh. Low, guttural noises of approval began pouring from his throat as Lydia felt her juices start to flow more freely as he reveled in the taste of her.

“Give it to me, darling” he murmured into her, sounding almost desperate for whatever “it” was.

Before Lydia could question it, Ezra’s tongue and lips found her clitoris again as his left middle finger slid between the warm, wet folds of her mons. His mouth, combined with the rhythm of his skilled hand, soon had Lydia arching backward into the chair, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her orgasm, her first ever, tore through her like an unstoppable flood, forcing spasm after convulsing spasm to course through her body and make her dizzy with euphoria.

A low moan of pure satisfaction broke from Ezra’s throat as she clenched her thighs together from the pleasure, trapping him against her as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.

It took long moments before her thighs unclenched their grip on Ezra. Ezra pulled back, his gaze immediately landing on hers. With a wicked grin, he ran his tongue over her bottom and savored the taste of her.

“ Very good,” he purred, satisfaction written all over his face.

“What…” Lydia panted, still trying to get her body to calm down, “what was that?”

“One of the many wonderful things I can teach you,” Ezra replied, wiping his kerchief across his chin.

His eyes glittered with unbridled lust as he added, “If you are interested.”

Before Lydia could think of what that could mean, Ezra took her hands and gently helped her to her feet. Her legs trembled and swayed as she first stood, and Ezra chuckled knowingly as he held her steady.

“Normally I would send you back out there just like this: weak and stumbling; mind numbed and useless from pleasure,” he went on as he soothed some of her rebellious tendrils back into place, “But…seeing as we might have more work to do, this time I shall give you a moment to recover.”

Though it was out of Ezra’s normal character to stay with a woman after enjoying himself, he helped Lydia gather herself together. With an eye on the minute details, he fixed her skirts, tidied her hair, and teased her with their usual banter until she was laughing more and trembling less. He was quite pleased when he pulled her back out into the hallway and found that she still shook slightly under his touch.

The art of tasting a woman was something he had used as a weapon many times to get what he wanted, but with Lydia, he had lost grasp of what the act could do for him and had dedicated the entirety of his thoughts to maximizing only her pleasure. Each subtle shift, each muffled moan as his tongue lapped at her delicious juices, only made his hunger for her intensify.

“I do not think I can stand very long,” Lydia confessed quietly as she held on tightly to his arm.

Though he’d been sure to make her appear as tidy as before, there was not much he could do about the expression on her face. It was one that made him want to turn them back around and return to the privacy of that empty room. More. She wanted more, and he wanted so badly to give it to her.

“Lean on me if you have to,” he whispered into her ear, “Then, perhaps, after we have concluded our business here, we may take ourselves home and continue.”

Ezra’s ability to focus on anything besides Lydia evaporated as he watched excitement and longing fill Lydia’s eyes. They had often teased one another about him seducing her, but he had never pushed the matter once she’d instructed him to stop. Now, though, when he had expected to hear another refusal, he was met with eagerness.

He was so consumed with what was unfolding between himself and Lydia, that Ezra did not notice they had rejoined the crowded party. He paused, wanting to take a better look at her.

Lydia, I…” his words transformed into a visceral yelp as he felt a stinging pain slice through his free hand.

He turned at once, pressing Lydia between his back and the wall as he looked for his assailant. He’d been cut, and deeply, too. So much so that blood was running freely from his palm, but he paid no mind to that. His focus was only on the elegantly dressed crowd around them, trying to figure out which masked partygoer had cut him. The blade had hit his hand, yes, but he knew it could not have been the original target. His femoral artery, perhaps?

“Ezra, Ezra you have been cut,” Lydia cried out from behind him.

Already her hands were on his shoulders, trying to get him to move so she could come out from behind him.

“Do not move,” he warned, but Lydia ignored his instructions, slithered out from behind him, and came around to grab his hand.

Fury at her disobedience roiled inside of him, eating away his earlier thoughts. Lydia paid him no mind, though, as she lifted his hand and quickly wrapped it in her kerchief. Worry flooded him as he drew his eyes back to the crowd, making sure no one tried to slide something into Lydia’s back, and he pulled his hand away from her gruffly.

“What the hell do you think you are doing? Enough of your fussing, it is time to go,” he growled, feeling the sense of danger loom closer.

Anger sparked in Lydia’s eyes before a calmness came over her expression.

“We will discuss that tone later,” she whispered threateningly but began to walk with him, her skirts carefully hiding his hand.

Amusement shot like a thin arrow through Ezra’s annoyance as he picked up her tone, but before he could get her outside he heard Alice’s words ring out.

“Where are the two of you off to?”

Ezra’s annoyance spiked as Alice’s voice came from behind them. He had promised to bring Lydia back, and now that they had been caught leaving he was sure that Alice was about to berate him for it. Together, he and Lydia turned back toward her sister and his best friend. Lydia though, had tucked his wounded hand between the many folds of her wide skirts to hide his freely bleeding wound.

“I am tired, sister,” Lydia replied, her tone matching her words as she painted on a sweet smile.

“My husband had tried so sweetly to find me a quiet place to rest but the party is simply too large to find such a respite. I am afraid I am fading by the moment,” she added with a tired laugh.

Alice’s eyes jumped from Lydia’s to Ezra’s warily, as if unsure whether or not to believe them. Duncan, though, was not even slightly convinced. Even with his mask on, Ezra knew he did not buy Lydia’s excuse. The disgusted stare from his alleged friend and brother shortened what little fuse he had left, but just as he was about to open his mouth and unleash his fury, Lydia made a wonderfully impressive whimpering noise as she snuggled into his arm and nuzzled her head onto his shoulder.

“Take me home, husband,” she pouted, “I am barely able to stay on my feet.”

Though he knew it was not real, Lydia’s tone and carefully placed touches rivaled that of any actress. She appeared spoiled and safe at his side as well as pitifully weary and drunk. She leaned on him like it was something she did often and without forethought like the intimacy had existed between them from the start. She looked…in love.

Alice and Duncan’s expressions dropped from judgmental to embarrassed in an instant, a deep blush flooding both of their faces as they realized their mistake. As he watched this, Ezra felt his icy calm slide back into place, and he stifled the ticking explosion inside of him.

“As you can see, my wife needs her bed,” Ezra said, shrugging his free shoulder in his usual bored manner. “And as her husband, is it not my duty to see that she gets to it safely?”

“I…my apologies, brother,” Duncan muttered, his eyes falling to the ground as he bowed his head toward Ezra. “Of course.”

“We will visit tomorrow, while you are still in town,” Alice said, though this time her tone was more imploring than forceful.

“Fine,” Lydia yawned, appearing sleepy and bored with the conversation. She waved a lazy hand at her sister, not bothering to open her eyes or remove her cheek from Ezra’s shoulder.

Despite the unknown danger still lurking nearby, Ezra felt another brush of Lydia’s white energy soothing his blackened one, making it shutter. Somewhere inside his dark heart, he felt a needle of pure light pierce through.

“Let us get you home, darling,” Ezra said, allowing a nurturing tone to coat his voice as he turned her back toward the door.

Though, unlike Lydia, he was not sure he was acting.

“You snap at me in public like that again and it will be me that punishes you ,” Lydia snarled as she unwrapped Ezra’s hand from her layers of skirts and found a surprisingly large blood stain.

“Now that I would almost want to see,” Ezra said mischievously.

He grinned in a similar fashion as he raised his hand above his head to staunch the flow of blood, seemingly unbothered by the amount that still trickled down his forearm and dripped from his elbow.

Lydia felt her cheeks burn as she ripped the bottom of her inner skirts to create a makeshift bandage. Despite the seriousness of the moment, her mind still flooded with various possibilities of how she could carry out such a threat. Annoyed at the diversity of her thoughts, she reached roughly for Ezra’s hand, drew away her ruined kerchief, and began binding the wound with the fresh bandage.

“You are impossible,” she hissed.

“I am impossible?” Ezra retorted, raising his voice and his brow as he let her work.

“If you had just obeyed me in the first place I would not have had to reprimand you in public.”

Fair, Lydia thought begrudgingly, so she moved on, “Who did this to you?”

Ezra laughed somberly.

“If I knew I would have sent you home and hunted him down back there,” he replied. Then, letting out a grunt he added, “Perhaps that is what I still shall do after I see you back to the house.”

“You will do no such thing,” Lydia snapped back, adding a little extra oomph as she tightened the bandage edges into a knot.

A low growl rumbled from Ezra’s chest at the little bite, but he grinned at her devilishly as he casually asked, “I will not?”

Lydia felt her arousal return as his voice lowered into that sweet darkness and she felt her anger dissipate somewhat.

“You are smarter than that,” she stated, giving him an imploring look.

“This could have been much worse, and I know you are aware of that. We need to make a plan; speak to the host, retrieve a copy of the guest list and staff that were there, then narrow down our suspects.”

Ezra’s teasing smile had slipped a little, but she could not quite read the expression on his face. It was as if he was searching for something beyond her person and inside of her heart. Unable to take his intense stare any longer, she let her gaze return to his hand.

“I believe I can clean and dress this wound myself,” she said as the carriage stopped. “You will come to my rooms and let me do so.”

At this, Ezra finally seemed to snap out of his trance and snickered.

“Will I?” he asked.

Lydia afforded him a sultry glance before getting out of the carriage, and Ezra followed her up into her rooms to do as she had instructed.

“I have never taken orders from a woman in my life,” Ezra mused as Lydia delicately washed his hand in clean, warm water. “Not even my mother, and yet you have me following you upstairs like a pup. How do you do that?”

Lydia laughed.

“Are we not supposed to be discussing this?” she asked, moving his cleansed hand from the blood-stained basin onto a clean, white towel.

Ezra’s eyes flicked to his wound.

“I will take care of this.” He stated, his tone final as he gave her a warning look. “And I will do so my way.”

“But I can help,” Lydia insisted.

“I know you can,” Ezra replied calmly, his gaze softening, “But I am not allowing you to become involved. Now, answer my earlier question, or give me that punishment you were teasing me with.”

Despite her irritation, Lydia found herself smiling at him ruefully as she paused her tending.

“Something tells me that the word “punishment” does not invoke the same feelings in you that it does in others,” she replied wryly.

His only response was to give her a challenging grin.

“My mother was…she was the exact opposite of my father in every possible way,” she began, letting the memories of her childhood form. “Where he was big, she was small, where he was rigid and unyielding she was soft.”

“And where she was weak your father was strong,” Ezra added.

Lydia looked at him then, the humor in her eyes gone, and she shook her head.

“No. At least not from what I saw. My father may have outweighed her in brute strength, yes, but she was the one who possessed the power. She could command people, my father included, with the softest tone and the lightest touch. She never became riled, not that I can ever recall.”

Heartache and yearning suddenly slammed into Lydia, and she blinked rapidly to dissolve the tears that threatened to spring forth.

“She was amazing,” she added, clearing her throat. “There was and will be no one like her. She was…irreplaceable.”

Ezra was quiet for a moment as Lydia began to gather the bandages and the bloodied basin.

“And yet you took up where she’d left off,” he mused quietly.

Lydia immediately shook her head.

“No, I simply stepped in and did what I could for my sisters,” she replied, keeping her eyes down as she busied herself with cleaning him up. “My father only put up with Alice and me because he was convinced that Juliet was going to be his darling boy. But once she came out and was identified as yet another girl, my father stormed out of the room.

“He thought my mother was going to recover from the birth just like she had the other two, so he went off to get foxed at a gentleman’s club. He was not there when the physician declared that she was still bleeding, or when she was begging the air to hold her hand.”

Memories, painful and raw, continued to slam into her so hard that she visibly flinched.

“You see, she was seeing things due to the blood loss,” she continued, her voice growing hollow. “So, she did not know that when a hand had grasped hers, it had been mine.”

“Your father is worthless,” Ezra announced as Lydia came back empty-handed from the bathing room.

He had kept his mouth closed as Lydia had peeled back her layers to show him a bit of her past, but he had not been able to stop his thoughts. Fury, malice, and redemption all flooded through him as he pictured his wife at seven years of age becoming not just a mother to her sisters, but essentially a wife to her own father, but for the biblical sense.

Lydia had explained that not only did she take on the burden of raising her sisters, but also that of being the Lady of the House. She had learned to care for and hire staff, plan and follow budgets for meals and parties, advocate for herself and her younger sisters when it came to education, and how to speak to adults as if she were an adult herself, all before she had turned fourteen. He had been fourteen when he became a duke…but Lydia had only been half of that when she was confronted with her burdens.

Lydia gave him a weary smile and simply shrugged.

“I have given up trying to measure a man’s worth long ago,” she sighed, “But I suppose I would not argue with your opinion.”

Something about her nonchalant manner annoyed Ezra.

“He abandoned you when you needed him the most. Then, when he finally decided to return, he made you do everything, Lydia. Everything!”

The last word came out as a shout, and it startled not just Lydia but also himself. Where had such an intense burst of emotion come from?

“I am well aware,” Lydia replied calmly, putting her palm on his chest.

Her touch first scorched, then soothed him, and he did not move.

“But you see, to me it was worth it,” she went on. “To know that my sisters were receiving a small portion of the love and guidance that our mother had been able to teach me before she passed. If I had let myself cry or feel the fear of being left alone with our father, I would never have been able to raise Alice and Juliet the way I did.”

“Lydia, you must know that is not a balanced scale,” Ezra remarked, although he could appreciate her optimism. “That what he took from you was not equal.”

“When has life ever been truly balanced?” Lydia asked with a soft laugh, her hand slipping up to his neck.

The wisdom and truth of her words struck him in his heart.

“I know nothing of balance,” she continued, speaking candidly, “But I do know about sacrifice, and I am not sad or bitter about that. Alice is now married to the love of her life and in just a few months Juliet will be the same. That is worth it to me.”

“And what of you?” He asked.

Ezra was acutely aware that Lydia’s hand still rested calmly against his neck, and he could feel her fingers slowly rubbing at a tense muscle there. It both soothed and bothered him to have her hand placed upon him so intimately, but he fought through the urge to push her hand away. Instead, he drew in a steadying breath and brought his hand up to cup her cheek.

“What about me?” Lydia repeated, her cheeks blushing as his palm caressed over her soft skin.

He watched her chin lower subtly toward his palm as if wanting to nuzzle into it, and he felt another needle of light puncture a hole through his heart.

“Where is your happy ending?” he asked, letting his thumb stroke her bottom lip.

Lydia did not respond as they continued to look into one another’s eyes and gave him a small shrug.

“My happiness lies within my accomplishments,” she whispered, her eyes full of sincerity. “And I have accomplished much, even with so little.”

Admiration and a touch of awe swept through Ezra as he saw the raw truth in her gaze. He stood there, unable to form a thought or words to say to the beautiful, strong woman before him. Suddenly though, discomfort swept through him like a strong wind, sending away all other emotions, and he pulled his hand swiftly from her face.

As he did so, he realized that he’d used his wounded hand, and though she’d just washed and bandaged it, a smear of his blood had been left across her cheek. He stared at it, the sight somehow stirring the beast of arousal that had become dormant. He watched as Lydia slowly brought her hand up to her cheek, delicately touched her fingertips to the blood, and brought it to her face to examine. He waited for her disgust or jest, but she only stared at it objectively.

“Enough of me,” she said, waving her blood-dipped fingertips before him, “Tell me what we are going to do about this.”

Needing to get out of the room and away from the strange feelings that were encompassing him, Ezra drew his kerchief from his pocket and tossed it to her carelessly before turning to the door.

“Like I said,” he growled, unable to look back as he reached the door, “I will take care of it.”