Page 50 of The Rake Desires the Diamond

“Seeing as how your arsehole duke of a brother defiled my sister before marrying her, he has no room for objections,” Evan declared.

“Leave my house at once.” Harrington pointed at the door.

“Oh, Ethan!” Katrina cried out.

“Him, not you. You’d better not go anywhere, sister.”

If Evan ever spoke to Georgie with that much venom in his command, she’d slice off his bollocks.

Leaving her stays on the floor, Katrina hiked up her skirt and headed toward the door.

“Get back here, Katrina,” Harrington commanded.

She halted her tramp to face her brother. She looked him in the eyes and opened her mouth to say something. Instead, she clamped her lips together. After an extremely long exhale, she squished up her delicate features and huffed, “Bah!” Thereupon, she took her leave, slamming the door behind her.

“What in the hell have you done?” Harrington asked.

Evan winced. Bloody fool that he was, he’d gone and fallen in love with his mate’s sister.

Evan and Harrington bickered as they trudged along the main street searching for Katrina. Every second she was missing brought them closer to a fistfight.

“I swear on my father’s grave I will kill you if you go near her again,” Harrington declared a half-dozen times.

After repeatedly having his life threatened, Evan grabbed Harrington by the lapel of his waistcoat and pulled him so close their noses practically touched. “You didn’t have to speak to her like that. And if anything happens to her, I will knock you on your arse.”

Harrington’s nostrils flared. “You’ve already taken advantage of her. What other threat is there? Who else could possibly hurt her?” His eyes widened as realization dawned.

“Greyson,” they said in unison.

But would Greyson sink so low as to harm the queen’s niece? The powerful Duke of Astleyshire’s sister? Someone the Troublesome—and dangerous—Eatons of Trent cared about? And after he’d made a deal with Evan? Although it was a naive error to think a handshake in the middle of a cricket field would bond the man to an honorable promise when he was so vile, he’d make a pact with Satan himself.

Calling a temporary truce, Evan and Harrington pounded the pavement and frantically searched. Katrina was not to be found on the main street or at The Crown Jewel Inn. Justine had not seen her since the previous evening. No surprise there.

When they’d come upon the flushed Elizabeth, she’d been covered in grass stains and had leaves in her hair. The old Evan would have wagered a pound she’d been rutting in a grassy field. But the new, improved Evan, the same man who was tired of fighting with her bristling cousin, pretended not to notice Elizabeth’s unseemly appearance. He also chose not to point out she’d been trying to sneak in the servant’s entrance—another non-surprise.

Evan rubbed at the ache in his chest. No way in hell did he want to seek out Greyson. But he had no other choice. If the shite-fuck was holding her as ransom until Caroline was returned—or for any other nefarious purpose—Evan would stab him through his heart. Not that the man had one.

While retracing their path to Yardley Manor, Harrington stopped short and moaned. “We need to check Taylor’s townhouse.”

Evan nodded his agreement. It seemed his ex-mate was reading his mind.

They strode the rest of the way in silence. By the time they reached their destination, Evan had had enough. No more “charming and affable Eaton.” He hammered on the door until his fist stung.

It took so long for the butler to answer that Evan was no longer in the mood for etiquette or polite greetings. Not that he’d been in the mood when he’d arrived. The blasted morning that had started with him cradling his beautiful lover in his arms had turned to utter rubbish.

“We need to speak to Lord Greyson. Immediately,” he said, not bothering to temper the anger in his voice.

The butler’s gaze searched the front walk before leaning close to ask, “Is the young maid you removed from the house safe?”

“Quite,” Harrington said. “Now that she is away from the maggot dung currently in residence. Speaking of which, where is the pile of insect feces?”

“I’m afraid he is not here.”

Evan and Harrington pushed past the butler and entered the foyer.

“Greyson. Oh, Greyson,” Evan called in a light tone seeped in so much feigned sweetness that no one with half a brain would mistake it for conviviality.

“Greyson, show yourself,” Harrington bellowed.