Well done. She was impressed.
Lord Liddican gaped at the intruder. “You can’t do that!” he rasped, though Sadie could see that his face had gone slick with sweat.
“I can and I have, Eddie. Now go home and think of a way to get back into Prinny’s good graces. Otherwise, you’ll have to learn to make friends in prison.”
Liddican growled like a feral dog. “Why you—”
“Don’t finish that thought. There’s no need to be impolite in front of all these ladies.” He made an expansive gesture to where the women had been. He didn’t realize many of them had melted back to the ballroom.
Meanwhile, Sadie finally stepped around the impressive man. “I don’t care about any vote,” she said. “We want his wife free of him.”
“Ah yes,” the stranger said. “Does she want a divorce?”
Sadie shook her head, trying to use the motion to see his face. He remained frustratingly in shadow. “She’s afraid of the scandal, but she never wants to see him again.”
“And you, I presume, were going to see that done?” He turned slightly, and she caught sight of a white cheek, a broad forehead, and a lock of curly hair. All surprisingly handsome and yet still his identity eluded her. At least, she hoped it eluded her. “Why would you risk yourself on him?”
“I’m not risking for him,” she huffed. “It’s for her. Because there were nomen,” she sneered the word, “to see him controlled.”
“Well,” he drawled. “I am here now. I shall see to his wife’s safety.”
Liddican straightened with burning eyes. “No man controls me.”
“Except your king, your prince, and the holder of your debts.” The stranger pointed a thumb at himself. “You have a choice of obeying…or you can go to debtor’s prison.” Then he turned to address the remaining women. “Now if you ladies will allow me, I should like to escort you back to the ballroom.” Only they’d all left.
Meanwhile, Sadie knew Liddican’s measure, and was ready when the man lunged forward. He made no sound, but his attack was real.
So was the stranger’s.
She and the man hit Liddican at the exact same moment—her in the jaw, him on the chest. The result was that the idiot went down flat, sprawled against the oak tree as if sleeping.
“Nice punch,” she said, meaning it.
“Damn,” said the stranger. “I hadn’t meant to knock him unconscious.”
“Speak for yourself,” she quipped. “I am very pleased with the result.”
“The business of the Crown requires subtlety.”
“I might have broken his jaw,” she said as she leaned over Liddican. “He won’t be able to speak. That’s subtle.”
“Well,” he said in an equally matched drawl. “For you, it would be.”
Finally, the light from the nearest garden torch caught his face and she saw everything she’d seen before—broad shoulders, rugged jaw, a rakish confidence.
It was just as she feared. He was the man who had plagued and saved her two seasons ago. His name was Lord Heath, he worked for the Prince Regent himself, and he had delighted in telling her exactly what he thought of her.
And while she was sorting through her churning emotions, he began to smirk.
“Didn’t recognize me until now? I’m hurt. But you, Miss Allen, are recognizable everywhere. And living up to your reputation as a Scottish idiot.”
Which is when, sadly, she lost her temper and punched him straight in the face.
Chapter Two
Heath saw theblow coming and knew he deserved it. He hadn’t believed that a woman, even a fiery Scotswoman, would dare mete out justice to England’s worst aristocrats. And yet, two seasons ago, she’d been instrumental in the demise of that reprobate Mr. Carr. She hadn’t wielded the weapon—that had been the work of the victim’s cousin. But her name had been attached, and so she’d caught his attention.
A Scotswoman who lured men to their doom. That’s what he’d been told, and a little bit of investigation had proved it true. They’d even given her a name: Lady Vengeance.
