The Heiress of Winterwood - By Sarah Ladd Page 0,48
didn’t like the desperation in Littleton’s expression. Desperate men were capable of desperate things. Graham squared his stance. “You can leave on your own, or William and I will show you off the estate. Take your choice.”
George Barrett stepped forward, outrage in his voice. “You’ve no right to throw anyone out of Winterwood, Sterling. I am master here. I should be ordering you off the property.”
Just as Graham opened his mouth in response, Littleton flung himself at Graham and swung a fist toward his jaw. Graham ducked, but not quickly enough. He staggered back from the blow, warm blood trickling from his lip.
Like a shot from a cannon, fire surged through his veins. Without hesitation he rammed his full weight into Littleton, hurling him against the wall. He thrust one forearm against the man’s throat and the other across his chest, pinning his foe against the cold plaster.
Littleton flailed, throwing angry blows and spewing curses. Behind him, George Barrett clawed at Graham’s shoulder. With a sharp jab of his arm, he freed himself from the older man’s grasp, relieved when William finally stepped in and pulled Barrett from his back. He pressed harder, consumed by rage. All he could think about was dominating Littleton and keeping him away from Miss Barrett. Away from Lucy. Away from Winterwood.
Someone screamed, but Graham paid no attention. All his force and concentration was required to keep Littleton against the wall. He braced his feet and tightened every muscle and waited until the other man expended his energy and began to slow.
Littleton finally slumped in surrender. Both men huffed. Sweat dripped from Graham’s forehead and rolled to his chin. He leaned in close to his opponent, his face just inches away. “I’ll not repeat myself. Leave now.” Then he stepped back.
Littleton’s dark eyes raged with fire, but the man’s physical strength did not match his passion. His chest heaved, and his stare moved from Graham to Amelia. He pointed at her. “Is this what you want? Then you shall have it.”
Graham didn’t dare break his stare. “Are you quite finished?”
Littleton snatched his hat from a nearby table, jammed it on his head, and hissed a warning through clenched teeth. “If you think for a moment I will give up easily, you, sir, are sadly mistaken.”
The man stormed from the library, clipping William with his shoulder as he passed.
The room stood silent. Graham wiped the blood from his chin, noting idly that crimson stained his sleeve. He looked up to see Amelia by his arm, tears welling in her eyes.
George Barrett rushed toward him, his jowls trembling with rage. “Are you pleased?”
Graham pressed his lips together. One altercation was enough for tonight.
Barrett’s face had gone purple. “What kind of a man preys on a young girl the way you have? Look at what you have done. And why? Because of her money? Because you needed her to care for your daughter so you can return to your ship?”
Amelia hurried over to them. “But it’s not like that at all. I—”
“Quiet, girl!” Barrett pushed her away and addressed Graham. “You’ll receive the punishment you deserve for bringing such scandal to our family.” He spun around and took his wife’s arm. “Helena, Augusta, return to your beds. We are finished here.”
Helena jumped forward. “But what about Amelia?”
Barrett turned to stare at Amelia as if he had forgotten she was in the room. “You. You agree with this? You agree to marry this man and go against the solid guidance your aunt and I have given you all these years?”
All eyes were now on Amelia. She met Graham’s eyes, then jutted her chin in the air. “I do.”
Barrett slammed his palm on a round side table, sending the urn atop it crashing to the ground. “So be it. Then you are no longer a niece of mine.”
She flinched as if struck. “I hope in time, Uncle, you will understand why I have made this choice.”
Barrett made no answer, just grabbed his wife and daughter by their arms and yanked them from the library, glaring at Graham all the while. Graham let them go. Now was not the time to talk with the man. Maybe he could explain himself sometime in the future, but not tonight.
Graham rubbed his jaw and wiped his face, vaguely aware of his brother and betrothed walking toward him.
“You’re bleeding.” Amelia’s voice trembled. She reached out to touch his wound but hesitated, letting her hand land briefly on his shoulder before falling to her side.