A smile twisted his lips. “Your maid has been locked in her chamber, with no possibility of escape until I decide to release her. And since I doubt you have had the opportunity to actually deliver a note to anyone else from the time you left the ball until you forced your way into my home, I feel fairly confident that my secret is safe.”
Her own ready temper flared. “You are a…a coldhearted bastard. How you could possibly be related to Stefan defies imagination.”
With pathetic ease, he grasped her chin and tilted her face upward. His lips covered hers in a raw, demanding kiss.
“Get dressed and come downstairs,” he commanded against her lips. “Boris will wait for you. If you try to run, I will order him to tie and gag you and haul you downstairs.”
Without waiting for her reply, he crossed the room and yanked open the door. He spoke briefly with the looming giant waiting in the hall before turning to send one last warning glance as he shut the door in her face.
EDMOND WAS LIVID AS HE returned to his bedchambers and forced himself to prepare for his unwelcome guest.
He barely noticed as his valet shaved him in well-trained silence and styled his hair in the manner his brother preferred, although he did rouse himself enough to choose a fitted jacket in a Cambridge blue that was matched with a blue and silver waistcoat. He also took personal charge of the linen cravat that he tied in an intricate mathematical knot.
Still, his thoughts remained consumed with Miss Brianna Quinn. Damnation. The woman threatened to ruin everything. First with her blatant threats to expose his identity, and now by dragging her troubles into his home.
In a mood that boded ill for Thomas Wade, Edmond made his way down to the front anteroom where the intruder had been left to cool his heels. He paused in the doorway to study the large man with the thick, florid features and heavy jowls of his ancestors. Despite being properly attired in a dark jacket and white waistcoat, Wade still looked more a butcher than a gentleman as he uncomfortably perched on the edge of a delicate Louis XIV chair.
Another wave of murderous fury raced through Edmond at the mere thought of the man’s hands on Brianna, his fat, disgusting body heaving above her. Damn, he’d see Thomas Wade at the bottom of the Thames first.
At last realizing he was no longer alone, Wade surged to his feet, his small eyes glittering with a hard anger.
“About time you decided to make an appearance, Huntley,” he growled, his accent still hinting of his humble origins. “You are fortunate I am a patient man, otherwise you would have had the constables on your doorstep.”
Stepping across the threshold, Edmond allowed his gaze to flick over the man in silent condemnation.
“You are a fool if you believe that any constable would darken the doorstep of a Duke.”
Wade curled his hands into tight fists at Edmond’s cool, taunting words.
“So you believe you are above the law?”
“Yes, actually I do.” Edmond casually strolled closer to Wade, inwardly judging the considerable bulk of his opponent. Perhaps in his youth Thomas Wade might have been capable of holding his own against Edmond, but now he was soft and flabby from years of self-indulgence. He was no more than a bully who hoped to intimidate others with his sheer size. “But that is not the point. If anyone is breaking the law it is you, Wade. By what right do you force your way into my home?”
“The right of any father to retrieve his only daughter.”
Edmond narrowed his gaze. “And what makes you so certain that she is here?”
“I have my means.”
Moving so swiftly that the older man had no opportunity to react, Edmond had Thomas slammed against the wall, his forearm pressed to the thick throat.
“I asked you a question,” he said, his soft, lethal voice making Wade pale in fear.
“What the hell do you think you are doing, Huntley?”
Edmond pressed his arm harder against the man’s throat. “I asked you a question.”
Wade made a choked sound as he struggled to breathe. “One of my servants heard her sneaking from the house last night and followed her here.”
“You are having her watched?”
The beady eyes held a wary glint, as if attempting to calculate just how much the Duke of Huntley might know of his nefarious plans for Brianna.
“What father would not desire to protect his daughter? London is a dangerous place for an innocent maiden,” he grunted.
“But she is not your daughter, is she?” Edmond pointed out. “She is only your stepdaughter.”
“She is in my care.”