All that self-righteous fury. For what? Because he’d dared to touch something pure? Poison rose in Ash’s blood.
“The widow and I had an arrangement. It is not uncommon.”
An ugly rage twisted Cheverly’s features. “Damn you.”
Ash’s gaze narrowed. “If you wished to protect your pure little friend, why dangle her like a lure?”
“I thought you were a decent man,” Chev answered. “I came to you because Ithoughtthis was the one place I needn’t worry about the spread of scandal.”
“You came to me,” Ash said bitterly, “because you did not wish to return home.”
Chev shook his head no. “I’ve been your friend. For years. Itrustedyou.”
Ash stood. “...And doesn’t that just make you feel noble? The always reliable Chev. Friend to the friendless, the first boy at Eton with courage enough to champion a murderer’s son.”
“I have fought by your side.”
“And I have stood by yours while you made vows to a woman who does not know you are alive. What are you doing here, Cheverley? Why not go home?”
Chev’s gaze narrowed. “This is not about Pen!”
“Isn’t it?” Ash asked.
“You haveno ideawhat I did to survive for Pen. For Hurtheven. Foryou.”
The wild fire in Chev’s gaze couldn’t be faked. Still, Ash pressed on. “Why meddle in the affairs of a widow while your own wife pines? It’s cruel.”
“You know cruel, don’t you?” Chev shoved Ash’s chest. “I owed it to the admiral to sort out his affairs, and I was close to a resolution. Then you interfered. You have destroyed her peace.”
“Her ruin is your fault, you know,” Ash taunted. “You described an angel. How could a devil like me resist stealing a feather from her wings?”
Chev’s left hook hit him with shocking force, leaving him teetering on his feet. Ah, the sweet relief of physical pain.
“She deserved protection.” Chev back-handed another punch. “She deserved freedom.” And another again. “She did not deserveyou.”
Ash knew that. God, how he well he knew. “Pity. I defiled her just the same.”
Cheverley lunged with a full-body roar, knocking them both to the ground. The puckered scar at the end of Chev’s arm passed over Ash’s eyes.
“Hit me back, you cur,” Cheverley demanded.
The lights around Ash flickered. “No.”
“Do you want me to murder you? Do you wish to die?” Chev’s face blurred. “Because I’ve seen death. I’ve looked it right in the eye, and it’s not to be wished.”
Ash had seen death, too. His father’s valet, impaled on his father’s sword. The unrecognizable bodies of his father and his wife.
“Perhaps,” Ash tasted blood on his tongue, “I no longer have a reason to live.”
Chev stared for a long, silent moment. His pallor slowly returned.
“Go ahead,” Ash taunted. “Exact your revenge.”
“Oh, be silent, would you?” A ragged breath shook Chev’s body. His accusatory gaze sliced with a boning knife’s precision. Then, he closed his eyes. “Forgive me, Lady Stone.” He moved aside. “You have an excellent reason to live, you self-indulgent, addle-pated ass.”
Ash’s snort caused considerable pain at the bridge of his nose. He lifted himself onto his elbows. It was possible he’d cracked a rib. “And just what purpose does the ever-honorable Cheverly assign my worthless, purity-ruining life?”
“Fatherhood, Ash. You are going to have a child.”
