Chapter 7

Chapter 7

If there was one thing that she never would be again, it would be backed into a corner.

Fury and despair mixed together inside of her belly to form a noxious cocktail of emotions far too large for her body to handle. Her mind seemed determined to work overtime and supply her with myriad things that would be terrible to say out loud.

“Over my dead body.” Lydia seethed; the words pushed through her teeth as she glared up at the larger man.

To his credit, he seemed to blanch at the sheer vitriol in her words.

“I care not that it was not I who birthed her, Margaret is my daughter. She is every bit my daughter as my own Juliet. You will not take her from me. I assure you of that.” Lydia placed her hands on her hips, grasping her own sides tightly to keep from lashing out at the man in front of her. She had never felt so inclined to violence before. She was hardly a violent woman by nature. She was a nurturer. What was it about this man that made her feel this way?

The duke glanced over her shoulder to where Cassian was trussed up.

“Or you will sneak laudanum into my food?”

“Do not mock me, sir.” Lydia’s gaze narrowed.

“Then do not threaten me, my lady.”

“You are the one who is threatening me! This is my home! My life!” Lydia said, gesturing widely to the house around her. “Just because of my sex you think that you can honestly have the right to take such things from me? I think not! I will not meekly be shoved off onto another property to wither and die. I have run this house for years and very effectively too! You shall see when you check my books!”

Weston stepped closer, a retort on his lips as he gestured toward her. Whatever it was, she could take it. She could endure the strange gleam in his eye for whatever was about to come her way. She could do it.

Only he was standing so close to her. She could smell the cologne he wore and the after-shave oil on his face. She could see the subtle dimple in his chin and the various shades of gray and silver in his eyes. They almost seemed a pale, icy blue as she stood this close. Though, the more worked up he got it was almost as if they took on a quicksilver quality that was downright hypnotizing.

Lydia’s chest heaved, fully flustered from the alien effect that he seemed to have over her. She could not back down. They stood nearly chest to chest in the most indecent manner, and she would not allow herself to be intimidated by him.

Or, if she was being wholly honest, of the heated flush she felt radiating from her core. She would not allow anything else to be affected by his gaze either.

It should be a criminal offense to have lips that look like that.

The last time that she had been in a situation like this, she had kissed her masked man. Why were those memories coming to the surface now? It had to be because there were so many similarities between the two of them. Large figure, enchanting eyes and those lips inclined for sin. He was an infamous rake, after all. It was not as if he did not know all of the most effective ways to get under a woman’s skin. She was certain of that.

If she kissed him now, would that change things?

Cassian’s chair squeaked behind them, and she was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that they were no longer alone in this space. Lydia forced her body back a pace at the same time that the duke seemed to realize the exact same thing.

Where had such passion come from? Was it just the argument? So rarely was she so unafraid to fully speak her mind like this. Perhaps she was wholly imagining things, but there seemed to be a flush on his face as well that had not been there before. Did he feel this strange pull between them as well? Was he only arguing with her to get this heated of a reaction?

“We should attend to the matter at hand, as it is more pressing.” Weston said huskily, clearing his throat and running his index finger along his collar to loosen the neck of his shirt somewhat. “You will have plenty of time to tear my throat out later.”

Lydia wrapped her arms around herself and put another step of distance between them. “I shall have the housekeeper summon the constables at once.”

Getting out of this room and clearing her head from all of these troubling thoughts would be the most rational course of action.

“He is my cousin. It is not as if he could have gotten away with it in the first place. I think he has been humbled quite enough because he was so captured by a woman half his size.” Weston said with a smirk. “Is that not correct, cousin? Try such a thing again and I shall let the dowager finish the work that she started?”

Interestingly enough, the man in the chair visibly paled at the very notion.

“A stern warning then, that women are not the easy targets that he clearly thinks that we are.” Lydia conceded. Though, she personally would have been gratified to see him in irons. Perhaps Cassian was simply the sort of dog whose bite was far worse than his bark.

“Or, perhaps because the constables would never believe what actually happened here. Besides, you would be in trouble for attacking a man and I find the whole thing far too amusing to allow you to actually be arrested.” Weston added conversationally.

She had not even considered that part.

Perhaps it was best to let him off with a warning, all things considered.

“Very well, but I will not be the one to untie him.” Lydia said before turning her back on the whole situation.

“He squats in a nearby town, I shall have my personal carriage return him and his bruised ego home. Never you worry about him.”

“I was not concerned in the slightest, I do not care what happens to a man such as him.” Lydia said as she started out of the room. She paused in the doorway and cast a last warning glance to the duke. “We are far from finished, Your Grace.”

“Oh, believe me, I am very much looking forward to encountering you again, my lady.”

Lydia’s cheeks flamed and she hurried out of the room, hoping against hope that he had not seen her blush.