Amelia had nearly forgotten what the Earl of Talley looked like. He marched into the room with a stiff, imposing gait, his long dark hair framing a face alight with indignation, appearing so tall that Amelia felt dwarfed in his presence. Most striking was the fresh jagged scar that ran from his left ear down his neck, which she presumed he had gotten from the accident at the docks Dorothy had mentioned in her earlier letters.
His face contorted with rage as he took in the sight of his wife and sister-in-law surrounded by strewn garments and a packed trunk. "Of all the deceitful, treacherous—"
Dorothy’s face drained of color, her blue eyes wide with terror, but Amelia refused to back down. She drew a quiet breath to steady her nerves, then positioned herself protectively in front of her sister, her hands balled into fists at her side.
"Stay away from her," Amelia cautioned, her voice quivering but determined.
Norman sneered, baring his teeth as his dark eyes flashed with contempt. He glared Amelia down furiously. “You should have minded your own business, you impertinent chit! You dare come to my home and attempt to whisk my wife away from me?!”
"Norman," Dorothy pleaded, her voice a mere whisper as she made for her husband and reached out to touch his arm. "Please, it was my idea. You can take it out on me, let her leave.”
“I won’t leave you with him,” Amelia retorted, still facing the Earl squarely, though she wasn’t sure for how much longer she could keep up her façade of bravery.
“Amelia, please!” Dorothy chided, before turning back to her husband. “Please, let's just talk about this."
"Talk?" He snarled, shrugging aside Dorothy’s hand as though it torched his skin. "You heard her, there's nothing left to discuss." He stalked toward Amelia, seizing her arm in a vice-like grip that made her wince in pain. Then, he proceeded to forcefully drag her from the room.
"Let go of me!" Amelia yelled. But her pleas fell on deaf ears. No matter how hard she fought his hold, Amelia could do nothing to escape. She felt useless. What did she think would happen by coming here? How did she think she’d be able to help?
"Norman, stop! You are hurting her! I will never forgive you for this!" Dorothy screamed in desperation. She was lashing out now, trying to scratch at the Earl’s hand to loosen his grip.
Yet, all efforts were in vain. The Earl dragged Amelia through the grand foyer, then down the sweeping staircase. "Let us leave,” Amelia mustered the courage to say. “I can pay you—I can offer you money in exchange for my sister’s freedom.”
“You dare affront me?” he spat, his words laced with scorn. Amelia could almost feel the intensity in the way his nails dug deeper and deeper into her dress sleeves, leaving marks on her skin. A few of the household staff paused in their duties as they simply gaped at the scene unfolding, not even trying to make a show of hiding their bare-faced curiosity. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the two of you have been conspiring behind my back,” the Earl growled, pulling her to the door.
With a guttural snarl, the Earl seized Amelia by her hair and wrenched her forward, his fingers biting into her scalp. Dorothy's scream pierced the air as Amelia was propelled through the doorway and out onto the streets of Brighton. Fear clawed at her chest as she braced for the impact onto the cold, hard stone.
But the fall never came.
Instead, strong arms caught her by the waist, gathering her into a protective embrace. The familiar scent of sandalwood enveloped her being as she lifted her head, her heart dancing wildly in her chest. There, holding her with gentle firmness, was her husband, Gideon Terrell, the Duke of Stanhope. His hazel eyes held a touch of concern.
"Amelia, are you alright?" His voice was tender, yet shook with a barely restrained rage.
The warmth, the familiarity from his embrace ignited a fluttering tremor within her, awakening longings she had hoped to forget. But his darkening expression jolted her from her momentary trance.
The Earl emerged from the house a moment later, his eyes shooting venomous glares into Gideon’s back. "You would do well to mind your business, sir,” he hissed.
"Mind my business?” Gideon's voice thundered with unrestrained anger as he released Amelia and advanced on the Earl.
Then, as if on cue, Lewis Rowley appeared through a gathering crowd, breathless and panting. His gaze shifted uneasily between Gideon, Amelia, and the irate Earl. "Gideon," he warned, "think carefully about your next move, old boy. Don’t do anything you’ll regret now...”
However, Gideon was beyond reason. With a primal growl, he lunged into the Earl’s midsection, knocking him off his feet. Before the wretched man could react, Gideon's fist struck his jaw with such force, it sent him reeling onto the cobblestone.
“Mind my business?!" Gideon bellowed as he towered over the sputtering Earl. Seizing him by the collar, he began to unleash a torrent of staggering blows.
Amelia watched on in horror, torn between gratitude for Gideon's intervention and fear for the consequences of his actions. As much as she despised her sister’s vicious husband, she knew that Gideon's anger could be as dangerous to himself as it was to her tormentor.
“You dare lay a finger on my wife? You dare hurt her?” Gideon's voice reached a dangerously low timbre. “And then ask me tomind my business?” Blow by blow, the Earl was knocked senseless, fading in and out of consciousness.
"Stop!" Amelia cried out, her voice barely audible over the sound of Gideon's fury. She knew that if he continued, there would be no turning back. The consequences would be dire for everyone involved. “Gideon, please!”
Gideon paused, his knuckles bloodied, as his gaze snapped to Amelia. His wild, rage-filled eyes softened upon meeting hers. In that moment, she saw the depth of the man she had grown to love – a man with a solitary past and a history of hurt, now finally releasing all his pent-up fury on a stranger who might have deserved it, but not at the cost of his life.
"Please," she whispered, tears streaking her face. "Let him go."
With a shuddering breath that seemed to shake him from his trance, Gideon released the beleaguered Earl, stepping back as if to distance himself from the monster he had become in that moment. "I'm… I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he breathed shakily.
The rhythmic sound of approaching footsteps announced the arrival of the constables. Their boots echoed against the cobblestones,a stark contrast to the silence that had just settled. Lewis, with swift, decisive steps, interposed himself between the constables and Gideon. "Stop! This man is His Grace, the Duke of Stanhope!"
