Page 94 of The Duke’s Wager

“She is unwell. She will not be seeing anyone.”

What could this mean? Had he perhaps beaten her?

Edward knew that he could not leave without seeing her, but a single look at her father showed him that it was no use attempting to reason with him. He was far too incensed to allow it.

“I will leave, my lord,” Edward promised, his voice steady. “But I will return and beg for your daughter’s hand in marriage every day until you allow it.”

Henry merely waved in Edward’s general direction before stumbling off.

It was just as he was about to leave when he saw the man, clad in white, looking at him earnestly.

“My lord…” The man spoke to Edward in a hushed whisper. “Follow me. Please.”

Normally, Edward would not follow a stranger anywhere, least of all one who looked as desperate as this man did. Something in the man’s demeanor, however, warned him that this was about Lucy. There was nothing he could do other than follow him up the stairs, hoping that he truly was leading him towards the woman he loved.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“He did not hurt her. Not physically, my lord. But she is in a horrible state.”

The man – Nicolas, Edward had learned his name was – spoke in hushed tones, as though he feared Henry bursting from the walls.

“He locked her in her room, but…” He took a key from a long chain around his neck. “Henrietta, Lucy’s mother, she had extra keys made shortly after Lucy was born. She knew her husband’s temper, knew what he was like…”

Edward had to admire Henrietta’s wit. She sounded like a clever woman.

“She is in here.”

They came to a halt at the door at the far end of the hall, and Edward watched apprehensively as Nicolas struggled with the key.

A satisfied cry left the other man’s lips when the key clicked in the lock, and Edward stepped forward eagerly as the door swung open, only to narrowly be missed by a flying shoe.

“What on earth—”

The woman in the room was a hysterical mess. Lucy’s hair was made up in an awful attempt at a braid, and she wore a pair of trousers of all things. Her eyes were wild, as though she were a caged animal – a frightened one at that.

Edward could see in those frightened eyes the second she realized that it was him at the door and not her father.

Emotions flashed in their aquamarine depths – relief, love, confusion, hurt.

Then a strange sound burst from her lips. It took Edward a full minute to recognize the sound.

She was laughing, but it was a laugh so unlike her that it stabbed at his heart.

“I…” Lucy was still laughing, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. “I almost hit you in the head… with my shoe!”

It was true, she had almost hit him in the head with her shoe, and though the situation was objectively unfunny, Edward could feel nervous laughter building up in him as well. He took a hesitant step towards her, afraid of increasing the fear in her eyes.

“I would have deserved nothing less, Lucy.”

She did not respond to this. Her shoulders merely sagged, and she sighed deeply. Edward took another step towards her and pulled her into his arms.

Though she did not move out of his embrace, she did not return it either. She stood motionless, frozen, as though he was hugging a mere statue.

He was no fool. He knew that he by no means deserved her forgiveness, but that did not mean that he did not yearn for it. He was here, after all – eager to save her, desperate to marry her. He wanted to prove that he had not lied – not about his feelings for her.

He never would have lied about them.

Edward pushed her away ever so slightly, searching her eyes desperately for any sign of tenderness.