Holding her close.
Holding her hostage.
The man was either brilliant or a tyrant.
Certainly Lady Liliah was trouble and more than a hoyden, but taking into account all that Lady Liliah had said regarding her and Meyer’s entanglement, he suspected that the man was a tyrant.
Running his household much like he ran his politics.
Controlling the circumstances and the secrets he held captive.
Under his thumb, able to be manipulated.
Lucas understood the need for control.
Yet as he watched the duke’s hand squeeze Liliah’s wrist, Lucas’s blood boiled.
Mine.
Again the simple yet damning word filtered through his mind.
So much for the emotional stoicism he was attempting.
Yet with her father closely guarding her, there was precious little he could do without provoking the duke’s ire, which in turn would prove to distress Liliah further.
He was damned if he did something.
And damned if he didn’t.
This was why he wanted Heathcliff present. Surely he’d have some idea as to how to address the conundrum.
Lucas meandered away from Liliah’s position and instead searched for Meyer. Sure enough, he found him beside Lady Rebecca, speaking in low tones. To the left and several paces away stood a silver-haired man with an ample paunch and a neck that nearly drowned his cravat. His study of the two young people was overly attentive, and Lucas’s curiosity was piqued.
Leaning against a pillar, Lucas ignored the whispers of the people who took not-so-discreet glances up and down his person as they passed. As if aware of the scrutiny, Meyer’s gaze met his. A flicker of curiosity flashed across his features before he bowed smartly to Lady Rebecca and made his way toward Lucas.
Lucas gave another bow, then simply nodded to Meyer, then shifted his gaze to the man with the silver hair, still watching from his post. “Friend of yours?”
Meyer’s quizzical expression shifted to anger as he turned to follow Lucas’s gaze. “No. That would be my father.”
Lucas nodded. “Can’t say I see the family resemblance.”
“Good heavens, I hope not,” Meyer replied with emphasis, then he adjusted his cravat slightly. “He’s been overly . . . attentive.”
“Ah, so you noticed his study of you and your lady?” Lucas said, studying Meyer’s reaction.
Meyer’s eyes widened ever so slightly, giving away more than his words could. “Speaking of... friends.” Meyer squared his shoulders, regarding Lucas coolly. “What of Lady Liliah? You seem to be quite curious?” He spoke the statement as a question.
“Lady Liliah is none of your concern, unless you wish to rescue her from her overbearing arse of a father, who keeps assuring himself that she is not fleeing the scene. It’s as if she’s suspected of a crime.” Lucas studied his nails, then gave a bored expression to Meyer, waiting for his response.
“In some circles, defiance is a crime,” Meyer replied, but without heat, only a defeated tone. “It is unfortunate for Lady Liliah, however I’m quite certain that any intercession I might try would only make the situation worse.”
“Is that so?” Lucas replied, irritation growing for the man before him. “You could offer to dance, could you not?”
Meyer tilted his head slightly. “Of course, but—”
“And it is impossible for another gentleman to intercede?”
“No—”
