Suddenly You(24)

As she had intended, Tirwitt’s attention was drawn to her. “If I am deranged,” he snarled, “it is because my life has been blown to bits. I have been made a laughingstock by the evil brew of lies and fantasy that this bastard has published. Ruining peoples’ lives for profit…well, the time of his comeuppance has arrived!”

“Your name was never mentioned in Mrs. Bradshaw’s book,” Devlin said calmly. “All the characters were disguised.”

“Certain details of my personal life were shamelessly revealed…enough to make my identity abundantly clear. My wife has left me, my friends have abandoned me…I have been stripped of everything that matters.” Tirwitt breathed heavily, his rampaging fury gaining momentum. “I have nothing to lose now,” he muttered. “And I will take you down with me, Devlin.”

“This is nonsense,” Amanda interrupted curtly. “Charging about in this manner…it is ridiculous, my lord. I’ve never witnessed such outrageous behavior—why, I’m tempted to put you in a book myself.”

“Miss Briars,” Devlin said carefully, “this would be a good time for you to keep your mouth shut. Let me handle the matter.”

“There is nothing to handle!” Tirwitt shouted, charging forward like a wounded bull and swiping the double-sided blade in a swift arc. Devlin leapt to the side, but not before the knife caught him, cutting through the fabric of his vest and shirt.

“Get behind the desk,” Devlin snapped at Amanda.

Amanda retreated to the wall instead, watching in amazement. The knife must be remarkably sharp, she thought, to have cut so easily through two layers of cloth. A crimson stain soaked rapidly through the fabric. Devlin seemed not to notice the wound on his midriff as he circled warily around the room.

“You’ve made your point,” Devlin said in a low voice, his gaze locked with the other man’s. “Now set that thing down, or you’ll soon find yourself in a Bow Street gaol.”

The sight of blood seemed to whet Lord Tirwitt’s desire to draw more. “I’ve only just started,” he said thickly. “I’m going to carve you like a Christmas goose before you ruin any more lives. The public will thank me.”

Devlin leapt back with impressive agility as the deadly cane whistled through the air once more, narrowly missing him. “The public will also appreciate the sight of you swinging in the wind…they always like a good hanging, don’t they?”

Amanda was impressed by Devlin’s presence of mind at such a moment. However, Lord Tirwitt was clearly too maddened to care about the consequences of his actions. He continued to press his advantage, the cane whistling and jabbing as he endeavored to divest Devlin of one part of his anatomy or another. Devlin retreated to the desk, felt its edge against the back of his hips, and snatched up a leather-bound dictionary, using it as a shield. The blade slashed neatly through the cover, and Devlin hurled the heavy volume at his opponent. Turning aside, Lord Tirwitt deflected the solid blow with his shoulder, made an enraged sound as he absorbed the pain, then rushed at Devlin with the cane yet again.

While the two men struggled, Amanda glanced wildly around the room, her gaze settling on the set of iron fireplace tools by the hearth. “Excellent,” she muttered, hurrying to snatch up the long, brass-handled poker.

Lord Tirwitt was too busy with attempted murder to notice her approach from behind him. Clutching the poker with both hands, Amanda raised the makeshift cudgel. She brought it down with as much force as she thought necessary, aiming for the back of his head. Her intent was to knock him unconscious without killing him. However, being unskilled in the art of combat, she did not hit him hard enough at first. It was a curious sensation, hitting the skull of a man with a poker. Her hands reverberated with the strange, rather sickening thud that the implement made. To her dismay, Lord Tirwitt spun to face her, a bemused expression twisting his face. The spear-tipped cane quivered in his meaty hands. Amanda hit him again, this time in the forehead, wincing as her blow connected.

Lord Tirwitt crumpled slowly to the floor, his eyes closing. Dropping the poker at once, Amanda stood there, feeling slightly dazed. She watched Devlin crouch over the fallen man.

“Did I kill him?” she asked unsteadily.

Chapter 5

“No, you didn’t kill him,” Devlin said in response to Amanda’s anxious query. “A pity, but he’ll live.” He stepped over the unconscious man, strode swiftly to the door, and opened it to reveal the hired thug’s expectant face. Before the man had a moment to react, Devlin sank a hard fist into the man’s belly, causing him to double over with a groan and collapse to the floor. “Fretwell,” Devlin called, barely raising his voice. One might think he were calling to request another tea tray. “Fretwell, where are you?”

The manager appeared in less than a minute, panting slightly from exertion. He was clearly relieved to see that his employer was all right. A pair of stout, muscular young men were right behind him.

“I’ve just sent for a Bow Street runner,” Fretwell said breathlessly, “and brought a couple of the stockroom boys to help me dispatch with this…” He glanced distastefully at the thug. “This vermin,” he finished with a grimace.

“Thank you,” came Devlin’s sardonic reply. “Good work, Fretwell. However, it appears that Miss Briars has the situation well in hand.”