Seven Years to Sin(91)

Michael held out his hand for it. “Thank you.”

The earl’s thumb stroked over the letters embroidered into the corner. “Interesting monogram.”

Alistair looked closer, cursing silently at the unmistakable “H” stitched in red thread.

“If you would, please, Regmont,” Michael demanded.

“I don’t think I will.” Regmont met Michael’s gaze, then Alistair’s, before tucking the kerchief in his own pocket. “I believe this belongs to me.”

The tension that gripped Michael was palpable. Alistair set his hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed a warning. The liquor on the earl’s breath was strong enough to be pervasive, and Alistair recognized the look of mayhem in his bloodshot eyes—the devil was riding Regmont hard, spurring him into a dangerous place.

Michael stood. “I want that back, Regmont.”

“Come and get it.”

Michael’s hands fisted. Remington stepped between the two men. The proprietor was tall and fit, perfectly capable of interceding physically, but he was also flanked by three liveried members of his staff. “You can take this downstairs, gentlemen,” he warned, diverting them to the pugilist rings below, “or you can take it elsewhere, but there will be no violence in here.”

“Or we can take it to the field,” Michael challenged. “Name your seconds, Regmont.”

“Bloody hell,” Alistair muttered.

“Taylor and Blackthorne.”

Michael nodded. “Baybury and Merrick will discuss the particulars with them tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it,” Regmont said, baring his teeth in a semblance of a smile.

“Not nearly as much as I.”





Chapter 25





My dearest,



I confess, I have thought of you all day, in ways I am certain you would enjoy. I pray that you are looking after yourself.





Acheron growled from his pillow by Jess’s feet. She paused with the quill suspended above the parchment, then she leaned over to frown down at the tiny pug.

“What troubles you?”

He repeated the small sound of disapproval, then bounded to the door leading to the gallery. There, he jumped and spun in circles. As Jess fetched her shawl to take him outside to relieve himself, his ears lay back against his head and he growled again. Then he whimpered pitifully and piddled on the hardwood before she reached him.

“Acheron.” Her tone was soft with resignation. The pug whined in response.

Jess collected a towel from the washstand in the corner and moved to the door. As she neared, she heard a masculine voice raised in anger. She dropped the towel on the tiny puddle and turned the knob. The sound of shouting became clearer without the solid wood barrier, and its source became recognizable—Hester’s rooms.

“No wonder you’re upset,” she murmured to Acheron, tossing her shawl on a nearby chair. “Stay here.”

She strode swiftly down the hallway. Regmont’s voice grew louder with every step. Her stomach knotted and her palms grew damp. As familiar fear set in, she fought to breathe in an even cadence.

“You’ve humiliated me! All these weeks … the match with Tarley … I will not be cuckolded!”

Hester’s low replies were indecipherable, but the rapid delivery suggested anger … or panic. When a crash resounded, Jess lunged for the door and threw it open.

Dear God …

Her sister stood in her night rail, her face blanched and lips white. Her eyes were huge in her face and filled with a terror Jess knew all too well. A new bruise was already darkening her temple.

Regmont’s back was to the door, his hands fisted at his sides. He was dressed for a night on the town, and he stank of liquor and tobacco. A side table had been overturned, and the decorative urn that graced it lay shattered on the floor. He began to advance. Jess shouted his name.

He stilled, his back stiffening. “Get out, Lady Tarley. This is none of your concern.”

“I think you should be the one to depart, my lord,” she retorted, trembling. “Your wife is breeding and has orders from the doctor to abstain from any excitement.”

“Is it even mine?” he barked at Hester. “How many men have there been?”

“Go, Jess,” Hester pleaded. “Run.”

Jess shook her head. “No.”

“You can’t always be the one who saves me!”

“Regmont.” Jess’s voice cracked like a whip. “Please leave.”

He rounded on her then, and her heart stopped. His eyes were bloodshot and filled with the single-minded malevolence Hadley always displayed when determined to use his fists on someone who couldn’t fight back.

“This is my house!” he bellowed. “And you … you have come here with your harlot ways and attached scandal to my good name. Now your sister seeks to do the same. I won’t have it!”

Jess’s ears filled with the sound of roaring blood, muffling his vitriol, but she understood his threat to teach her proper behavior. The room spun. She’d lived through this moment before. Heard those same words. So many times …

The fear receded as swiftly as it had come, leaving an odd calm in its wake. She was not a frightened, lonely girl anymore. Alistair had shown her that she was stronger than she’d given herself credit for. And when he came for her, which he would do as soon as she could send for him, Regmont would pay for his actions this night.