Page 32 of The Duke’s Wager

“I do not plan on hurting her, grandmother. I swear.”

Evelyn nodded at his promise and handed the piece of paper to him hesitantly. “Good. Because even though you are a full-grown man, I will have you know that I will unleash the wrath of God on you if you make her suffer more than she already has.”

“Yes, grandmother.”

“Be a gentleman, Edward.”

She spoke with longing in her voice, and he suddenly felt a knot in his stomach. He had been such a disappointment to her and he never paid it any mind. Now, suddenly, it seemed to bother him.

“I will, grandmother. I promise.”

He saw them just as he headed out of the room, and his heart skipped a beat.

Roses.

The most beautiful roses he had seen in quite some time –more beautiful than any he would find today.

Carefully avoiding his grandmother’s eyes, Edward made his way over to the bouquet. “Well, you’re coming with me.”

The whisper left his lips without him truly realizing it and Evelyn looked up from her book once more, aghast.

“Edward James Lockhart, what on earth do you think you are doing?”

The roses were already out of the vase and in his arms, and he took a few more steps out of the room before gathering the courage to look back at his grandmother.

“I’m being a gentleman, of course – like you suggested.”

“Edward…” Evelyn’s voice was tense, almost angry. “You put those flowers back right now. They cost a fortune, and they are nearly impossible to find. I will not have you…”

“Sorry, grandmother…” Edward winked at her teasingly. “I am certain my dear grandfather will think nothing of buying you a new bouquet, but right now… I need these.”

“Edward!”

Her voice followed him as he made his way outside, the roses pressed against his chest like a treasure. Once he climbed into the carriage, the humor of the entire situation hit him, and he laughed out loud. He knew that the Duchess was furious, but she would have to admit that it was rather funny indeed. Besides, she wanted him to be a gentleman. What screamed gentleman better than these fine imported roses?

Lucy.

His heart suddenly skipped a beat, and he licked his lips. Why was it that he was suddenly so nervous about seeing her? He glanced at the flowers.

He never gave them flowers – none of the ladies he frequently visited ever received so much as a daisy from him. This was different, he argued with himself silently. He was apologizing to Lucy.

Why was he so absurdly anxious about it, though? What was it about Lucy Beaumont that was so different? What was it about this girl that made him feel nervous and vulnerable? Why did the mere thought of her name make him feel like the boy in the cemetery all over again?

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lucy needed her sleep. It was not negotiable at all. If she slept poorly, her day was instantly ruined.

This was, unfortunately, the case today, she mused, where she sat on the balcony watching the sunrise. She could not sleep a minute. She was far too furious at Edward.

Yes, that was it. She was mad at him. It had nothing to do with the fact that she could still feel his hands on her waist… his hot breath on her face. It had nothing to do with the fact that she saw those cursed green eyes whenever she closed her eyes.

“There you are!”

It was Maria’s voice calling to her, and Lucy turned to look. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I brought your tea.”

Her bad mood nearly vanished at this and she rose to her feet, following her inside.