Too Wilde to Wed (The Wildes of Lindow Castle, #2)(90)

Diana pushed open the half door that separated the bar from the rest of the room. Harvey slid from his stool and shambled toward her.

“Good night,” Diana said.

“It’s going to be a good one for us, I promise you that.” His speech was slurred but more or less intelligible.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Us,” he said, reaching her side and wrapping his fat fingers around her arm.

Diana looked down at this trespass on her person. “Unhand me.”

He guffawed. “You’re as good as a play.”

She did sound like a heroine in a drama. “Do you need me to say, ‘Unhand me, Villain’?”

“I like the way you talk,” Harvey said, swaying closer so that his hot, beery breath washed over her cheek. “Fancy-like. I’m going to pretend I’m tupping the queen, you know? In fact, I might pay you more if you say some queen things.”

“What are you talking about?” Diana snapped. “Let go of me this instant!”

That provoked another guffaw. “I paid for you, no time to regret now.”

“You did not pay for me!”

“Oh yes I did!”

She laughed. “You’re out of your mind.”

“You took the coins yourself. You’re paid for. Bought and paid for. Mine for the night. I want the queen.”

“You are a disgusting little worm,” she stated.

“That’s right, Your Majesty,” Harvey panted. “Everyone saw you taking my money.” His grip on her arm tightened; she knew he would leave bruises—injury added to insult, rather than the other way around.

Across the room, the groom Hickett had left to watch her was rising to his feet, and the line of men at the bar had all swiveled around, but Diana believed she could take care of this boor herself. She reached out her free arm, picked up an abandoned tankard sitting nearby, and brought it down on Harvey’s head.

“Hey!” he cried.

Huh. She would have guessed it would do more damage than that.

The door to the yard slammed open and a man came in with such speed that Diana saw no more than a blur. He caught Harvey by the shoulder, spinning him away with such force that the drunk flew over a table and slammed into the wall.

Her deliverer stood with his back to Diana, hands on his hips, surveying his handiwork. She blinked at him, her eyes moving from broad shoulders down to taut waist, dusty breeches, tall boots . . .

A gentleman’s coat. Not a gentleman’s body.

North.

He was blocking her view of Harvey swaying on the other side of the room.

“Who the hell are you?” Harvey slurred. “I paid for her. Paid for the night. Paid enough for a whole night, I mean.”

A low growl came from North, potent and full of menace. Harvey’s eyes widened and he fell backward a step. “Aw, bollocks. She’s cheating on you? Belongs to a gent.”

Diana stepped out from behind North. “I had no idea that you were overpaying for your ale.”

North pushed her behind him. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding.”

“I want her as I paid for. I even held back on the brew so I could do the deed!”

Diana edged to the side once again. “You could hit him again,” she suggested to North.

He glanced at her, a flash of amusement going through his eyes. “I have your permission?”

“I didn’t get to see it the first time.”

“I wouldn’t want you to miss the spectacle.”

Harvey squeaked like the coward he was and started to move around the table between them. “Mayhaps there’s been a mistake,” he suggested.

“Oh, there has been,” North assured him.

“I can let the money go,” Harvey offered.

“You can,” North agreed. He reached out and dragged Harvey across the same table the man had flown over not two minutes earlier.

It was terribly primitive and ungentlemanly, and Diana had an impulse to applaud. Only, she told herself, because she had enjoyed boxing matches at the county fair, those her grandfather used to secretly take her to when she was a little girl.

Those no lady would enjoy.

“What’s happening here?” Mrs. Barley cried, running in. “Here you all!” she shouted to the men who were standing around, enjoying the spectacle. “Why aren’t you doing something?”

North grinned at her. “We’re just cleaning some rubbish out of here, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Oh, you fool, Harvey,” the lady said, folding her arms over her chest. “You’ve gone too far this time, you old dunce.”

“I ain’t a dunce,” Harvey said indignantly.

“I would think very carefully and then apologize to the lady,” North said, giving Harvey a shake, “because if you don’t, I shall be obliged to satisfy her bloodthirsty desire to see you flat on your back again.”

“I apologize,” Harvey said quickly.

North pushed the drunk away. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Belgrave, but a gentleman always accepts an apology, however poorly it is expressed.”

With this he turned to face Diana at last and opened his arms. “Did he injure you?” he asked, holding her tightly. “If so, I’ll kill him.”