~~~
As Richard watched, Lady Ainsworthy’s carriage drove off with Violet and the other Kent girls, sending an angry plume of dust into the village square. His mind was in turmoil. What had he been bloody thinking?
The plain truth was that he hadn’t been. Seeing Violet in Wick’s arms had unleashed a rage unlike any he’d known before. The force of his fury had knocked out all reason, and it still roiled in him… along with prickling agitation.
Wormleigh and Sumner were vicious gossips. They’d wasted no time in hurrying back to the fair to spread lurid tales of discovering Richard and Violetin flagrante.
Violet was ruined.
Becoming aware of the keen audience gathered around him on the green, Richard felt his face flame. He wanted to punch his fist through a wall. But that would help nothing, wouldn’t stem the damage he’d done to Violet’s reputation. By Jove, nothing would. As furious as he was with her betrayal, he was angrier at himself—for hurting her. For allowing himself to hope…
It doesn’t matter. You’re going to marry her.
At this point, he didn’t have a choice. Anguish pierced his anger. Because, despite everything, he still wanted to make her his—
“What the bloody hell have you done?” Wickham shoved his way through the crowd toward Richard. “You stupid sod!”
Richard’s fists clenched. “Back off.”
Wick glared at him. “Not until I knock some sense into you.”
That does it.Red saturated Richard’s vision. He threw a punch.
Wick danced out of reach. “Violet’s myfriend—practically my sister.”
“You tried tokissher.” Richard circled his brother.
“For God’s sake, I did not. She was feelingill. I think that cider made her foxed or something.”
“So you took advantage of her!” Snarling, Richard issued an uppercut.
Wick dodged at the last moment. “Why would I do that, you imbecile? She’s in love with you.”
Emotion exploded in Richard. With a roar, he charged his brother, tackling the other onto the ground. His fist connected satisfyingly with Wick’s side.
Wick grunted. “Go ahead and pummel me. Doesn’t change the fact that Violet loves you.”
“Shut the bloody hell up!” Richard pinned his brother, landed a facer.
“Or the fact that you love her back,” Wick gasped, “and that scares you witless!”
The words punctured Richard’s raw haze. He stilled, his fist poised above Wick’s face. “What the devil did you say?”
“You’re terrified that she’s going to reject you like the others, so you assumed the worst. Because you can’t get it through your thick skull that Violet loves you, you didn’t give her the benefit of the doubt and instead pushed her away. Which makes you a moron!”
The truth hit Richard like a right hook, the force of it making his head jerk back.
Wick was… right. Every word he’d said—true. Richard had been so afraid of repeating his past that he’d doubted the woman he loved. Doubted that she could love him back. And his fears had led him to act like the worst kind of bastard.
His rage abruptly subsided.
“Bloody hell,” he said hoarsely, “Iama moron.”
“Exactly. Now would you mind getting off of me?” Wick glowered up at him. “We’ve provided enough free entertainment.”
Richard became aware of the murmuring crowd around them. Feeling like the world’s biggest fool, he rose… and offered his sibling his hand.
“I owe you an apology,” he said gruffly.
