Just Like Heaven (Smythe-Smith Quartet #1)(90)

“You’re going to kill him,” Honoria shrieked. She rushed forward again, trying to pull Daniel back, but Marcus must have been able to fend for himself, because his knee shot up, catching Daniel squarely in the groin. Daniel let out a sound that was positively inhuman, and he went down, taking Honoria with him.

“The two of you are mad,” she gasped, trying to untangle her legs from her brother’s. But they weren’t listening; she might as well have been speaking to the floorboards.

Marcus touched his hands to his throat, wincing as he rubbed where Daniel had choked him. “For the love of God, Daniel,” he said. “You nearly killed me.”

Daniel glared up at him from the floor even as he panted through his pain. “What were you doing to Honoria?”

“It doesn’t—” She tried to intercede, tried to say it didn’t matter, but Marcus cut her off with “What did you see?”

“It doesn’t matter what I saw,” Daniel snapped. “I asked you to watch over her, not to take advan—”

“You asked me,” Marcus cut in angrily. “Yes, let’s think about that. You asked me to watch over your young, unmarried sister. Me! What the hell do I know about bringing out a young lady?”

“Apparently more than you should,” Daniel spat. “You had your tongue down her—”

Honoria’s mouth fell open, and she smacked her brother on the side of his head. She would have hit him again, if only because Daniel had given her a shove in return, but before she could make a move, Marcus came hurtling through the air.

“Hhhhhrrrrrrcccchhhh!” A sound emerged from his mouth that was completely unintelligible. It was the sound of rage, pure and simple, and Honoria just managed to scoot out of the way before Marcus threw himself on the man he’d always considered his one true friend.

“For God’s sake, Marcus,” Daniel gasped between blows. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Don’t you ever talk about her like that,” Marcus seethed.

Daniel slid out from under him and staggered to his feet. “Like what? I was insulting you.”

“Really?” Marcus drawled, also rising. “Well, then this”—his fist connected with the side of Daniel’s face—“is for the insult. And that”—other fist, other side of the face—“is for abandoning her.”

It was very sweet of him, but Honoria wasn’t sure that was quite accurate. “Well, he didn’t really—”

Daniel clutched at his mouth, which was now dripping blood. “I was going to hang!”

Marcus shoved Daniel’s shoulder, then shoved him again. “You could have come back long ago.”

Honoria gasped. Was that true?

“No,” Daniel responded, shoving Marcus right back. “I couldn’t. Or did you not realize that Ramsgate is absolutely insane?”

Marcus crossed his arms. “You did not write to her for over a year.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s true,” Honoria said, not that anyone was listening to her. And that was when she realized it. They weren’t going to listen to her. Not in this fight, at least.

“Your mother was wrecked,” Marcus said.

“There was nothing I could do about that,” Daniel returned.

“I’m leaving,” Honoria said.

“You could have written to her.”

“My mother? I did! She never wrote back.”

“I’m leaving,” Honoria repeated, but they were now almost nose to nose, hissing epithets and heaven knew what else. She shrugged. At least they weren’t trying to kill each other any longer. All would be well. They had brawled before and likely would again, and she had to admit that a little piece—oh, very well, a bigger than little piece—of her had been thrilled that they had come to blows over her. Not so much her brother, but Marcus . . .

She sighed, remembering the fierce expression on his face when he had defended her. He loved her. He hadn’t said it yet, but he did, and he would. He and Daniel would sort out whatever they needed to sort out, and this love story—her love story, she thought dreamily—would have a blissfully happy ending. They would marry, and have scads of babies who would grow up to become the happy, teasing family she’d once had. The happy, teasing family Marcus had always deserved. And there would be treacle tart at least once a week.

It would be grand.

She shot one last glance at the men, who were shoving each other’s shoulders, although thankfully without quite so much force as before. She might as well get back to the musicale. Someone had to tell their mother that Daniel was back.

“Where’d Honoria go?” Daniel asked a few minutes later.

They were sitting side by side on the floor, leaning against the wall. Marcus’s legs were bent; Daniel’s stretched out long. At some point their poking and shoving had petered out, and in silent agreement they’d slumped down the wall, wincing with pain as their minds finally caught up with their bodies and realized what they’d done to each other.

Marcus lifted his head and looked around. “Back to the party, I imagine.” He really hoped that Daniel wasn’t planning to turn belligerent again, because he just wasn’t sure he had the energy to launch himself at him again.