Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,42

his fist into Philip’s face. Blood spurted, then flowed from his cheek. It did nothing to calm Kevin’s anger. If anything, it fed his fury.

“How dare you impose on her like that, you worthless shit.” He hit him again, and Philip fell.

“She’s a whore,” Philip gasped. “No harm done.”

“I swear, if you say that again, I’ll kill you.” Kevin reached down and hauled Philip back to his feet and hit him in the stomach. Philip crumbled back down. “I’d make you apologize, but there is no apology for what I saw. No excuse.” He lifted Philip again and started to swing once more.

Footsteps. Shouts. Firm arms imprisoned his own. He tried to shake them off so he could grab Philip.

“Calm yourself. Now.” It was Nicholas issuing commands in his ear.

“The hell I will. He assaulted her.” He strained against the hold, his mind darkening again.

“Is that true, Philip?” Nicholas asked.

Chase and Douglas were supporting Philip. Chase pressed a handkerchief against Philip’s face.

“What he said, did it happen?” Walter asked, repeating Nicholas as was his habit, while he stood aside like the great judge.

“I stole a kiss, is all.”

Kevin struggled again to get free of Nicholas’s hold. “Hell and damnation, you forced yourself on her, and when she resisted, you hit her. Let me finish the thrashing I started. The rest of you can make sure I don’t go too far.”

Chase stood back from Philip and gave him a hard stare. “Is that true? It wouldn’t be the first time, Philip.”

Walter looked from Kevin to Chase to Philip, then back again along all three. He puffed himself up. “Well, whatever happened it won’t do to resort to fisticuffs in Aunt Agnes’s garden, with the ladies nearby. Meet at a boxing club and have it out if you must.”

“I’d rather meet him at dawn in a park,” Kevin snarled.

Philip raised his head and looked down his bloody nose. “I don’t duel over whores.”

With one hard jerk, Kevin broke free of Nicholas and strode over. “I said I’d kill you and—”

Chase grabbed him and put his neck in a tight hold. Nicholas came to pin his arms again. “Get him out of here,” Chase said. “Douglas, take your wife and Felicity home. Walter, get Philip into your carriage. Nicholas and I will deal with Kevin. Go now.”

“My carriage?” Walter said. “He is bleeding.”

Nicholas glared at him. Walter sighed. “Come along, Philip. Just try not to ruin the upholstery or my coats.”

They all filed up the garden walk, leaving Kevin under the firm holds of Chase and Nicholas.

Sounds came from the dining room, then the upper terrace. Kevin pictured Rosamund up there, the object of either scorn or sympathy, depending upon the woman. He only counted on Minerva to offer the latter reaction to this scene.

The rage began leaking away with Philip’s removal. The tightness in his body slowly unwound and his mind cleared. Neither of his cousins said a word. They just waited. Finally, they let him go.

“Did he really hit her?” Nicholas asked.

“Yes. Just as I came up the stairs. She had been fighting him and he slapped her in the face. It stunned her.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sure there will be a mark. He hit her hard.”

Chase shook his head. “I did not even notice he had left the dining room. The last I saw, he was asleep in the corner. He must have woken and slipped out.”

“I saw him leave but thought he was going into the garden to puke,” Kevin said. “I only followed to escape Walter’s endless political pronouncements. Then I heard something and noticed him up there with her.” His mind saw it again and started down the same path it had upon realizing what Philip was doing.

“He must have been mad to importune a woman right there on the terrace,” Nicholas said.

“He can be bold even when not drunk,” Chase said. “Someone had begun to play the pianoforte, so he probably thought she would not be heard if she cried out. I don’t doubt what Kevin describes, Nicholas. There was a near miss with Minerva once.”

“Such behavior cannot be excused by drink or anything else,” Nicholas said. “Let us get the poor woman home, Chase.”

The three of them walked through the garden. Up on the higher terrace, two figures could be seen. The moonlight reflected off blond hair. The other woman was Minerva.

“Let me speak to her for a moment,” Kevin said. “Wait for her in the reception hall, if you