“Goodness,” chuckled Kitty. “I would love to have eavesdropped on that one.”
Max raised a hand and stroked her cheek. “There’s that smile. Keep wearing it today if you can, Kitty. Let us take it an hour at a time…” He drew close, his eyes on her lips.
Deery knocked at that moment, seconds before Kitty would have leapt at Max and kissed him quite thoroughly. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or angry, but it was a relief to hear the butler confirm that a boy was ready to take a message to Lady Allington.
As they spoke, both Deery and Max glanced into the hall at the sound of a very loud knocking on the front door.
“Oh no, whatnow?” Kitty despaired. “It’s barely noon…”
“Finish your tea, we’ll take care of it.” Max smiled at her and followed Deery from the room.
*~~*~~*
Max himself opened the door, having sent Deery off to see about the travelling carriage.
A tall, imposing man stood there, with two more men flanking him. The sun was behind them and thus all three were pretty much dark silhouettes for the first few moments.
“Max Seton-Mowbray?”
“Yes?”
A fist came flying out of nowhere and smashed solidly into Max’s chin, knocking him off balance and making him stagger. The second man, blond and slightly more slender, followed up the first punch with one of his own, a fierce right hook to the chest, robbing Max of his breath. He crumpled to the floor, and caught a glimpse of the third man.
“Jesus Christ, James. What thefuckis this?” Max wiped a little blood from his lip and checked his teeth, judging that staying on the floor was a wise idea. He looked up. Good God. One of them, the blond one, was damnvicar.
“I’d kick you, but I’m rather fond of these boots and don’t want to dirty ‘em.” James FitzArden looked at him with a measure of distaste.
“What the devil…” Kitty burst from the parlor. “Max? Max are you hurt?” She ran to him, and leaned down.
“I’m not sure. I think this band of renegades may be dangerous, Kitty. Stay behind me. Summon Deery.” He cradled his jaw. “God, summon the 10thHussars.”
She sighed, taking in the sight of three very familiar faces. “Max, this is my brother Edmund, my brother Simon and I think you know my brother-in-law, James FitzArden.” She helped him stand. “My family.”
Edmund’s eyes were fire beneath fierce brows that could probably sear kindling from ten feet. “I’m not pleased to meet you, you cad. We heard of last night’s antics. My sister’s ruination lies here at your door, so we’re going to take her away, while we see if we can undo the damage you’ve done.”
Max curled his lip, trying not to wince as the move actually hurt quite a bit. “I assume you’re anticipating a nunnery for her, Baron…” He flashed a glare at Simon. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Vicar. Striking a man like that in his own front hall.” He rubbed his chest. “Admittedly a powerful punch, for one of your calling, but I suppose the Lord admires brute strength as well as compassion.”
“I’m not the one who should be ashamed, Seton-Mowbray, and you’ll find little compassion from us.” The eyebrows weren’t as impressive, but the eyes were cold nonetheless. “The shame is all on your shoulders for what you’ve done to an innocent young girl.”
“Oh for God’s sake.” Kitty strode forward and put her hands on her hips. “That’s quite enough from all of you.” She let her scornful gaze encompass all three of them. “Whatever you heard—it wasmydoing, do you understand? I’m not a young girl, I make my own choices, and they’re none of your business. And right now, with Hecate lying at death’s door in the salon, still alive only by the grace of God and Max Seton-Mowbray, you all need to stop acting like prizearses.”
Edmund froze. “Hecate? What’s the matter with Hecate?”
Simon came to his side. “Kitty. What happened? Where is she?”
“An accident?” Hurriedly, Sir James FitzArden joined his friends, concern written all over his face.
“Come and see Hecate first, then we’ll discuss all this,” said Kitty with finality. “And don’t think any of you will slip away without my wrath. If I wasn’t so worried right at this moment, I would verbally flay the lot of you and feed the leavings to the rats.” She spun on her heel and stomped down the hall to the door behind which Hecate rested.
She stopped them with a hand on Edmund’s chest, since he was closest. “Her injuries, several broken bones in her left leg…have been set by a doctor. Max’s own physician, who was summoned early this morning. At the moment, and in fact ever since they brought her here, she’s been asleep. Or unconscious. Either way, I doubt she will wake for you.”
With that warning, she opened the door and stepped to one side, letting her family pass by her and into the room to Hecate’s bedside.
Max dabbed at his lip with a handkerchief, and ignored the ache around the side of his chin. He waited outside the door with Kitty. “Best they see for themselves, I think.” He glanced at the three men who stood in varying attitudes of shock around the couch where Hecate lay unmoving.
She sighed and lifted a hand to touch his chin. “I’m so sorry, Max. After everything you’ve done today, I would not have had this happen for the world.”
“Hush,” he shook his head. “I am impressed with the speed that news of London events can travel, assuming your brothers came up from Ridlington. And they’re family, Kitty. We should not have expected them to ignore what happened between us last night.”
She nodded. “It seems so long ago, at the moment. I’d almost forgotten.”
“I can understand that.” He grinned, then winced. “Ow. Anyway, I haven’t forgotten. Believe me. And it will be my pleasure to remind you when the dust settles from all this upheaval.” He looked down at her. “Kitty, this terrible event could not have been anticipated. I will not hold you to any agreement between us right now. Hecate is your sister. You must do what is best for you, for her and for your family. If that means leaving and returning to Ridlington with them, I shall do all I can to make the journey a smooth one.” He touched her then, a brief stroke of her shoulder. “This is a decision I cannot make for you. It’s a matter of great import, and I trust you to do what is right.”
Edmund returned to them. “Is there somewhere we can talk, Mr. Seton-Mowbray?”
“I think, since I’m suffering the effects of one of the best and most punishing rights I’ve seen in many years, you might as well call me Max.” He turned away. “Follow me. There should be brandy, and I’m quite sure that would hit the spot right now.”
