Sins of a Duke(41)

Marcus stiffened. “I forgot you have a dossier on almost everyone in contact with Lady Constance. So the lady is married.”

Lucan threw a curious look at Marcus. He sounded disappointed. Too disappointed. Lady Ralston was a fetching young lady. Her dark hair was cropped into short riotous curls, and without a mane of hair distracting an observer, one could easily immerse themselves in the prettiness of her pixie features. But it was her turquoise eyes that were her most stunning feature.

“Widowed,” Lucan imparted. “She married at seventeen to the Earl of Ralston and was widowed two years later. It has been two years since he passed, and the lady has not shown favor to anyone. She has been hounded by a few to become their mistress, a notable attempt was made by the Viscount of Morley, but the lady declined all offers. Instead she chose to work as a ladies companion, despite the amount of debt the late earl left.”

“What are you going to do in relation to Lady Constance? It is evident the lady did not agree with whatever you said to her in the gardens,” Marcus said after a few quiet moments.

“It seems I need to be more brutal,” Lucan mused.

Without waiting for Marcus’s reply, Lucan descended the stairs and headed toward Constance. He did not trust the curl of anticipation that traveled inside of him. He hoped he had the strength to turn her away and not succumb to the raging lust that leapt to life inside of him the moment he had been told she was in his club. If he took her, he would ruin her further when he now wanted her protected. For though the Reverend and Ainsley encouraged him, he would never marry her, no matter how tempting the thought.





Chapter Twelve

Constance felt Lucan before she saw him. She glanced up and spied him prowling toward her. He was exquisitely dressed in black trousers and a pristine white shirt that emphasized the broad width of his shoulders, and a black tailcoat cut to fit his frame superbly. The only dash of color was his dark toned silver waistcoat. She guarded herself against the pleasure tingling through her. The man who walked toward her was coolly distant, and no sign of welcome or even pleasure at seeing her showed on his face.

“Why are you here?” he demanded upon reaching her.

She bit back her instinctive angry retort. “I would like to see you in private,” she said firmly. “I risked much to speak with you, and I would welcome an audience with you.”

His eyes hardened, and she tried not to fidget. She must appear resolute and unflappable.

“Welcome to Decadence, Miss Hastings, I am Marcus Stone. Please allow me to entertain your companion while you confer with His Grace in private,” the man who had walked up beside Lucan drawled smoothly. Mr. Stone was a handsome sort, but in a rough way. His dark brown hair was long enough to be tied in a queue, and his pale blue eyes seemed to laugh at her.

Lucan’s lips flattened and the glare he directed at Mr. Stone shriveled her inside, even though it was not aimed at her. Mr. Stone only smiled and held his arm out to Charlotte. Constance heard Charlotte’s soft indrawn breath, but she laid her hand on his sleeve. Constance glanced at Charlotte and was surprised to see a blush on her cheeks.

“I…thank you, Mr. Stone,” Constance replied, unsure of what else to say.

He inclined his head and walked away with Charlotte, who looked over her shoulder and mouthed for Constance to be careful. Constance nodded in confirmation and gave her a reassuring smile.

She glanced at Lucan to see him watching Mr. Stone and Charlotte with a neutral mien.

“Will she be safe with Mr. Stone?”

Cold silver eyes looked down on her. “Lady Ralston is a widow. I am sure she knew what Mr. Stone wanted when he led her away.”

She gaped at him. “Are you saying he has designs on Charlotte?” Constance squeaked, wondering if that was what she had seen on the man’s face while he looked at her friend. His regard had been unsettling.

“She is in capable hands,” he said flatly.

Constance considered his closed expression for a few seconds. “Will we go somewhere to converse?”

He stared at her for the longest while without responding and nervousness shivered inside of her.

“Follow me,” he clipped.

She released the pent up breath she had been holding and walked beside him. It had been a gamble that he would accede to her demand. She had fully expected him to put up a greater fight and possibly drag her outside to her waiting carriage. Without speaking, he ascended the stairs that led from the room. After climbing a second flight of carpeted stairs, the din of everything droned away, and she could hear nothing from the hallway along which they walked. Then he opened an oak door and she entered what looked like a library.