The door pushed open, and mother entered, “Ariadne, I came to check on?—”
“It’s the wrong room, mother!” Ariadne shrieked, “You put me in the wrong room!”
The incessant pounding jarred Cedric from his precious sleep.
He ignored it at first, trying hard to slip back into his sleep as he’d only gone to bed at three in the morning. The noise from the damned ball he’d been forced to host had run to the damned witching hour. He’d finally gotten some pertinent work done when the guests had petered off and then took himself to bed.
Cedric turned on his side, facing away from the door, hoping the damned knocking would go—until the pounding turned to a hammering.
Muttering a curse, he flung the covers away and, with three large strides, yanked the door in, “What the devil do you want?—"
Leander rushed in, “She tried to trap me, Cedric. I swear to you, this is not my fault. I did not know she was in the bed, inmybed. Hell, I thought she was my mistress?—”
Rubbing his aching temple, Cedric snapped. “What the blazes are you babbling about?”
“I came to bed this morning admittedly drunk, yes, but then this morning, when I woke, I thought the lady in my bed was Delilah Porter, the woman I have?—”
“I know,” Cerdric growled. “And after that kerfuffle last night, which Hunt told me about, and which I warned you not to find yourself in because I did not want more speculation over my house, I thought you’d have enough sense to break that liaison off.”
“— and she was there, in my bed. A debutante, spinster, whatever she is—” Leander’s tone was ripe with horror. “I almost kissed her. I, God, you have to help me, Cedric. I bet she is going to trap me.”
Haggard, Cedric pulled on a shirt, quickly splashed water on his face to wake him up, before pulling on some shoes and striding out of the room. “Lord knows I ache for the day when I do not have to bail you out of your self-inflicted sinking boats.”
“I didn’t punch a hole in this one!” Leander insisted.
I’ll see about that.
Pushing the door to Leander’s room, he strode in to see a young woman hunched over into herself, clearly wanting to vanish through the floor, and an older woman bristling like a wet cat.
“You—” the lady punched a finger to Leander. “—compromised my daughter.”
“I did no such thing!” Leander shot back. “She came to my bed by mistake or by design. And seeing as she knew I was the duke’s brother, I am leaning towards it being an intentional trap.”
“It was not!” the girl said. When she looked up, he felt rooted to the ground he stood on. It was the same miss in the library.
Her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates when she saw him, and he could see her mind scrambling. If she had not put the pieces together last night, she surely would now.
Her mouth fixed to say," It's you”,but his warning glare had her lips clamping tight. No one had to know they had met before, or else this would be another conversation entirely.
With her head down, she said, “I was ill last night, and my mother took me here to a room I believed was loaned to me.”
Cedric frowned. “My lady, this is the east wing, reserved for my family alone. You were set up in the west wing, with completely different directions, and I doubt my servants would mistake the two.”
The mother met his eyes and flinched—something Cedric was familiar with. Not many people took too kindly when they see the scars splattered over the left side of his face.
She then curtsied, “Your Grace.”
“And you are?” Cedric has no time for niceties.
“Ophelia Hargrave,” she replied. “Viscountess of Fairbrook.”
“Well, my lady, I too find this incident very,veryconvenient,” Cedric replied. “How did you find yourself on this side of the house instead of the one you should have been in?”
The lady notched her head up. “I give you my word, I followed the instructions to the letter. That does not belay the fact that your brother compromised my daughter, and I demand that he marry her to salvage her reputation.”
“Did anyone see her enter my brother’s room?” Cedric demanded.
“No,” Leander said stiffly.
