Chapter 22 #3
When the earl didn’t move fast enough, Linnie pressed her palms against his chest and shoved him away with a force that knocked him off balance.
Linnie ducked out from behind him. She had managed to put three feet between them when her male kin came upon them.
Linnie felt the blood rush from her head and slip all the way down to her toes.
Amongst her family stood Jeremy, his granite features a pale mask.
What did he think?
“Jeremy,” she croaked. Linnie raced to him and tugged frantically at his arm. “Jeremy.” She said his name more insistently. “I’m sorry. I did not know he would be here.”
When her husband only gave her silence, she put her fury where it should be. “How dare you, Arran?” She took an angry step toward him. “You called my husband away so Lord Culross could seek me out.”
“That was never the intention, Linnie,” her cousin said briskly.
His flushed cheeks made a liar of him.
“No, that wouldn’t be, would it?” Jeremy’s voice oozed vitriol. He curled his lip, baring his teeth in a snarl. “You are one of those perverse fellows who enjoys seeing your friends suffer. As such, you felt compelled to put Culross through a meeting with Linnie now that she’s officially my wife.”
Lord Winfield entered the fray. “Might I remind each of you gentlemen this is a solemn day. As such, please try and dredge up even a single modicum of decency.”
Tremaine turned his anger on the other captain. “Decency? I trust you’d have been agreeable, then, to a man who’d courted your wife showing up on your wedding day and attempting to seduce her.”
Linnie’s stomach revolted. For that was precisely what Lord Culross had done, no doubt to wreak the very havoc he now wrought. Jeremy was clever enough to gather what’d likely taken place here, or almost happened.
Cassia’s husband looked to Linnie. “Is this true?” he asked with the gentleness he usually reserved for his wife and their children. “Did Lord Culross attempt to seduce you?”
Her stomach churned. Terror left her mouth dry. To admit the truth would likely lead to a duel between her husband and Lord Culross, and though she didn’t care about the latter man much now, to see Jeremy hurt would destroy her.
The Marquess of Winfield nodded slowly. “I see.”
A muscle twitched in the marquess’s cheek. He looked again at his cousin-in-law and Culross. “Given the . . . circumstances, I believe Lord Tremaine raises a valid point and it would be best if Lord Culross left.”
“And what of you, Linnie?” Arran shot that question to Linnie. “Do you want Culross to leave?”
Damn her cousin.
Jeremy’s nostrils flared. “By God, you’ll pit my wife against me?” he snarled.
Panic welled inside Linnie. This was spiraling out of control. Her equally obstinate husband and cousin were going to come to blows.
This time, Jeremy charged; it took both his brother and pilot to restrain Tremaine.
Lord Culross smirked. “Afraid to have me around? I do not blame you. Not considering how your wife comes alive in my arms.”
Jeremy’s body went whipcord straight.
“Culross!” Winfield barked.
“Nothing happened,” she pleaded.
“Not today,” the earl taunted, “but can you make that same claim about before, Linnie?”
Stunned, she whipped her gaze to the gentleman, and she saw a hideous side to him Jeremy had warned her of, but one she hadn’t believed until right here, right now. “How dare you?” she demanded. “You know nothing occurred.”
“Ah, but would that still be true if your husband hadn’t arrived when he did?” Lord Culross put his question to Linnie, but his derisory stare on Jeremy.
That stark taunt blanketed the room in silence.
Emitting a bestial roar, Jeremy charged forward.
Linnie gasped and stepped out of the way as Jeremy caught the Earl of Culross around the throat. In one fluid, violent move, he drove the other man against the mirror with a force that shook the heavy golden frame.
Shards of glass tinkled as they rained down on the floor.
Shouting, Cousin Arran raced to intervene.
The Duke of Hartwell and Lord Beaton each restrained him with a hand on his shoulder.
Holding Culross’s throat in one hand, Jeremy brought his opposite arm back and slammed a fist into the earl’s nose.
There came a sickening crack and then Lord Culross’s blood sprayed the walls and Jeremy’s face.
Linnie cried out.
Jeremy didn’t let up. His eyes crazed, perspiration dripping from his brow, he struck him again and again.
Through the vicious beating, Lord Culross, however, made no move to defend himself.
Weeping, Linnie glanced about—to Lord Winfield, a voice of reason.
He looked away, his meaning clear; he wouldn’t intervene to save the man who’d attempted to seduce her.
Her husband was like a man who’d gone insane. A crazed, unholy glimmer lit his eyes.
Bile stung her throat. She didn’t want him to do violence like this—not for anything, and certainly not for her.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Jeremy,” Linnie entreated, racing forward, but the Duke of Hartwell turned Arran over to Mr. Beaton and hurried to hold Linnie back.
“I have it,” he said calmly.
With an effortless ease, the Duke of Hartwell caught his brother’s hand on a backswing. “Hey, now, little brother.” He spoke firmly but quietly. “You’re the winner here,” his brother cajoled. He placed a calming hand on Tremaine’s shoulder. “You won. Let it go.”
That half-mad glint sparkled wildly in Jeremy’s stormy grey eyes.
“J-Jeremy,” she begged.
Her husband looked to Linnie and then all the way through her, as if she were some sort of apparition he heard but could not see.
Hart spoke sotto voce. “Don’t give Culross the satisfaction,” he coaxed. “The lady is your wife.”
That seemed to break through to her husband.
Jeremy relinquished his punishing grip on Lord Culross.
Bloody and beaten, the earl collapsed, but too proud to go all the way down, he managed to stay upright on his knees.
Lord Culross pulled a kerchief from his jacket and wiped at his face, then spat blood and saliva into the fabric. “You don’t deserve her,” he said.
Her husband tensed.
Anticipating a renewed attack, Linnie stepped forward. She placed her palm in Jeremy’s and gave a firm squeeze.
He whipped his gaze to hers, stared confusedly at her.
“Come,” she gently urged. “Let us go home, Jeremy. Please.”
At last, her voice reached him.
The fog lifted from Jeremy’s gaze. His jaw moved and he curled his hand around hers. She stared at his battered and bruised knuckles, stained with crimson drops. Her stomach roiled.
Linnie yanked her eyes back to his. “Come with me?”
He gave an uneven nod.
Together, hand in hand, they made their way from the remnants of the violent—one-sided—battle that’d taken place.
As they passed, her cousin Arran’s face buckled. “My apologies, Linnie,” he said stiffly. “It was never my intention to cause discord on this day.”
Linnie took a breath in, and when she exhaled, she still didn’t trust herself to speak kind words to a man who’d been like an older brother to her through the years.
Arm in arm with Jeremy, she took her leave and never looked back.