Brazen and the Beast (The Bareknuckle Bastards #2)(17)

He raised his hand and pressed something to the window. A rectangle she identified instantly.

Beast, indeed.

She narrowed her gaze. He had won this round, and Hattie didn’t care for it. She turned to Nora. “Take me to my brother.”

“Now? It’s the dead of night.”

“Then let’s hope we do not ruin his sleep.”





Chapter Six


Lord August Sedley, only son and youngest child of the Earl of Cheadle, was not asleep when Hattie and Nora entered the kitchens of Sedley House half an hour later. He was very much awake, bleeding on the kitchen table.

“Where’ve you been,” Augie whined from his place at the edge of the table when Hattie and Nora entered the room, bloody rag pressed to his bare thigh. “I needed you.”

“Oh, dear,” Nora said, coming up short just inside the room. “Augie’s not wearing trousers.”

“This bodes ill,” Hattie said.

“You’re damn right it bodes ill.” Augie spat his outrage. “I was knifed, and you weren’t here and no one knew where to find you and I’ve been bleeding for hours.”

Hattie clenched her teeth at the words—reminding herself that entitlement was Augie’s neutral state. “Why on earth didn’t you ask Russell to take care of it?” Her brother took a swig from the whiskey bottle in his free hand. “Where is he?”

“He left.”

“Of course.” Hattie did not disguise her disgust as she went for a bowl of water and a length of cloth. Russell—Augie’s sometimes valet, sometimes friend, sometimes man-at-arms, and constant pest—was perfectly useless at the best of times. “Why would he stay, as you’re only bleeding all over the damn kitchen.”

“Still breathing, though,” Nora said happily, as she opened a cupboard and fetched a small wooden box, placing it next to Augie.

“Barely,” Augie grouched. “I had to yank that damn thing out of me.”

Hattie’s gaze lit on the impressive knife cast aside on the oak. The blade was eight inches long, with a curved edge that would have shone in the darkness if it weren’t so doused in blood.

If it weren’t so doused in blood, it would have been beautiful.

She knew such a thought was not appropriate for the moment, but still, Hattie thought it, wanting to pick up the weapon and test its weight; she’d never seen something so wicked. So dangerous and powerful.

Except the man to whom it belonged.

Because she knew instantly, without question, this knife belonged to the man who called himself Beast.

“What happened?” she asked, coming to set the bowl on the table and inspect Augie’s still bleeding thigh. “You shouldn’t have taken the knife out.”

“Russell said—”

Hattie shook her head, cleaning the wound, enjoying her brother’s hissing curse more than she should. “I don’t care. Russell is a brute and you should have left the knife in.” She knocked twice on the worktable. “Lie back.”

Augie groaned. “I am bleeding.”

“Yes, I see that,” Hattie replied. “But as you are conscious, it would make my work a darn sight easier if you were lying flat.”

Augie lay back. “Be quick about it.”

“No one would blame you for taking your time,” Nora said, approaching with a biscuit tin in hand.

“Go home, Nora,” Augie snapped.

“Why would I do that when I am so enjoying myself here?” She extended the biscuit tin to Hattie. “Would you like one?”

She shook her head, focused on the injury, now clean. “You’re lucky the blade was so sharp. This should stitch well.” She extracted a needle and thread from the box. “Hold still.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Not more than the knife did.”

Nora snickered and Augie scowled. “That’s unkind.” He followed the words with a hiss as Hattie began the work of closing up the wound. “I can’t believe he hit his mark.”

Hattie’s breath caught in her throat. Beast. “Who?”

He shook his head. “No one.”

“Can’t be no one, Aug,” Nora pointed out, mouth full of biscuit. “You’ve a hole in you.”

“Yes. I noticed that.” Another hiss as Hattie continued stitching.

“What are you into, Augie?”

“Nothing.” She pressed the needle more firmly on the next stitch. “Dammit!”

She met her brother’s pale blue gaze. “What have you gotten us all into?”

His gaze slid away. Guilty. Because whatever he’d done, whatever had put him in danger that night—it put them all in danger. Not just Augie. Their father. The business.

Hattie. All the plans she’d made and everything she had set in motion for the Year of Hattie. Business. Home. Fortune. Future. And, if the man with whom she’d made a deal was involved, it threatened the rest—body.

Frustration thrummed through her, making her want to scream. To shake him until he told her the truth that had landed a knife in his thigh. That had landed an unconscious man in her carriage. And God knew what else.

Another stitch.

Another.

She stayed quiet, and seethed.