“I met her the other day. I went to see her father about the symbol, the Knot of Isis, I mean. I saw her speaking with your Mr. Murdoch.”
Murdoch had definitely been flirting with her friend Violet outside her father’s study. Hart wondered if it would be petty of him to tell Lucy. Probably.
“You met Mr. Murdoch?” Lucy’s hand rose to her throat.
“Don’t look so nervous,” Hart said. “He seemed perfectly nice if a bit obsequious.”
“Well, he was meeting a duke and the one that watches over me. Of course, he would be.”
“He didn’t mention his connection to you at all. I thought it odd, but I didn’t want to press him in front of Blackpool. And your friend seemed a bit scattered. Everything about the visit was strange, to say the least.” He was still reeling from what he had learned about his father. Although why he should be so surprised, he didn’t know. Ton marriages were infamous for their infidelity. But to betray a friend showed a lack of character in a man that Hart had always looked up to as a paragon of right and wrong.
“Perhaps she was also surprised to encounter a duke in the house. Violet is usually delightful. She is my only bright spot in this whole season. We commiserate as her parents are also parading her around to find her a match.”
The tension he felt melted as he chuckled at her view of the season. “In my experience, most debutants are excited about the husband hunt.”
“Is that so? And have you been hunted then?” She bumped her shoulder gently against his arm.
“Of course. I am a duke, after all. I suppose I understand your reluctance to Trudy’s matchmaking since you already have a husband picked out.”
“I do? Oh yes, that is exactly it. I don’t need anyone else. Mr. Murdoch is the one for me.”
They hit the end of the room and made a turn to reach the other side. An older couple, Lord and Lady Dalmore, nodded as they passed. “Evening, Your Grace.”
“Good evening.” Hart nodded politely but did not stop. He needed another turn around the room before he was ready to actually converse with anyone.
Lucy gave him a quizzical look as he whisked her past the couple.
He shrugged.
Lucy smiled and patted his arm. “Let’s get some punch. It is dreadfully hot in here.”
Hart nodded, relieved she wasn’t going to make him make small talk just yet. They hadn’t gone but ten feet when a red-faced Lord Fitzwilliam stepped out in front of them. His fists were clenched at his sides. “You bastard.”
What the hell?Hart glowered. “Language, Fitzwilliam. We are in mixed company.”
“You just wanted her for yourself. You refuse my suit just so you could snatch her into your clutches.”
Hart crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I refused your suit because the lady did not want your attentions nor your manhandling, you little weasel.”
Lucy stood frozen next to him, her eyes wide with shock, darted back and forth between him and Fitzwilliam. Conversation in the vicinity ceased as everyone turned to hear what Fitzwilliam was yelling about.
Hart leaned close to the man. “I expressly told you to never come within fifty feet of Miss Middleton ever again. Get out of our way,” he growled.
But the idiot would not stop his fool mouth. Fitzwilliam turned to Lucy. “You little tart. Flirting with me but whoring around with him.”
Lucy came to life, her cheeks blazed with color. “How dare you! I would never waste my time with the likes of you. You assaulted me in the gardens at the Ponsonby’s. You are nothing but a desperate fortune hunter.”
Hart’s first inclination to pummel the man into the ground was replaced by admiration for Lucy’s fiery set down.
He smirked. “How is your chin, mate? She’s got quite the right hook.”
“You monster.” Fitzwilliam lunged forward.
Hart raised his cane in front of himself in an automatic defensive motion, but his opponent still managed to shove him hard. He stumbled backward several steps.
“Hart!” Lucy cried out.
She stepped between the two of them with her arms outstretched, her palms facing up. But Fitzwilliam, already in attack mode, had a fist in forward motion. He made contact with Lucy’s face and sent her falling backward, landing on her backside at Hart’s feet. Someone in the crowd screamed.
