Chapter 141: Kidnapped by Grandma
Lucas hadn’t screamed.
Not out loud, anyway.
But by the time he was eased into the back seat of the sleek black Fitzgeralt car, because, of course, it was sleek, black, and built like something that devoured lesser vehicles in parking lots, he was convinced his dignity had been left behind somewhere on the stairs.
The Marchioness slid in beside him with the grace of a woman half her age and twice his stubbornness, snapped her seatbelt into place, and tapped the privacy screen.
"Drive," she said to the front. Then, without missing a beat, she turned to Lucas and gave him a look so sharp it could’ve cut diamonds. "Smile, darling. Or at least stop grimacing like you’ve been shot."
Lucas adjusted the lapel of his coat. "This is kidnapping."
"This is character building."
"I have plenty of character," he muttered.
"Then consider this reinforcement. You’ve been holed up in that palace suite like a kept omega." She wrinkled her nose. "I’m old enough to know the difference between doting affection and political house arrest."
Lucas blinked at her, caught between protest and disbelief. "Trevor didn’t—"
"Trevor," she cut in smoothly, the voice of someone long past the point of being impressed by denials. "Would burn the embassy down if you so much as got a paper cut. I know my nephew. And he’ll be absolutely livid when he finds out I got anywhere near you without a security detail breathing down my neck."
Lucas exhaled slowly, resigning himself to the inevitable. There was no winning with Fitzgeralts. Not the charming kind. Certainly not the terrifying kind. "Where are we going?"