Panic quickly set in as Lyra’s door was wrenched open. Richard instantly had a biting grip on her arm as he dragged her out of the carriage. He’d effectively drawn a curious crowd due to his accusations. Lyra took in the growing mob around her with wide eyes. Their hard stares were piercing and unforgiving, as if they wished to condemn her on the spot. She felt her knees weaken, fearing she was about to be lynched.
But one firm voice dared to intercede on her behalf. “Let her go, Weston.”
Alister had been warned before he’d took on Lyra’s case that the new earl was gaining a devoted following considering he was a prime suspect forThe Cause.However, he never thought Richard would be so brazen as to manhandle Lyra and confront her in the middle of the street in such a fashion. A gentleman would have aired his grievances behind the privacy of closed doors, but it was apparent that this man cared nothing for discretion. So was his goal to merely humiliate Lyra—or something more?
Alister filed those doubts away to be reviewed later. Right now, he had Lyra’s wellbeing to consider. “I said release her.”
Richard merely laughed. “Is this some kind of a joke? Being ordered about by the Duke of Not-So-Albright?”
As a ripple of answering chuckles met Alister’s ears, he sighed. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but at the same time, what was the use of having special training if you never had occasion to use it? As Alister clenched his fists and eyed his adversary steadily, a flicker of alarm passed over the other man’s eyes. “I’ll give you one more chance to let her go, or else suffer the consequences.”
Richard seemed to be considering his options, but after a glance around at the mob behind him, his confidence was bolstered. “You may outrank me, Your Grace, but when it comes to fisticuffs, you are no match for my prowess. I am one of Gentleman Jackson’s best pugilists.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Besides, it’s not as if you have the stomach to make such a shocking, public scene…”
In answer, Alister spread his arms wide as if saying:take your best shot.
With a frustrated snarl, Richard shoved Lyra to the side. She had barely regained her footing before her brother-in-law was charging Alister. Just as he would have tackled his opponent to the ground, Alister took one step to the side and came back with a lightning fast jab to the other man’s jaw. Richard’s eyes instantly rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the street.
“I think you need more practice,” Alister said to the unconscious heap.
The crowd stilled, as if they couldn’t believe what had actually taken place, before a collective cheer went up among them. As shouts of congratulations were tossed around for Alister, he walked over to Lyra.
“Are you hurt?” he asked softly.
Her entire body trembled, but she managed to say, “I’m ready to go home now.”
With a grim nod, Alister helped her back inside the carriage and they took off, their treats abandoned in the face of the chaos.
“The fool,” Alister growled with a shake of his head.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Mrs. Birdwell said tightly.
After that, the occupants fell silent, although the fury rising up in Alister’s chest was far from abated. The moment they pulled up outside Weston House and Lyra jumped out of the vehicle before it had even come to a complete stop, he felt his heart slam into his throat.
She was halfway up the steps before he finally caught up to her. “Lyra, wait—”
She tried to ignore him, but he spun her around to look at him. The torture in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees. “We need to talk.”
After whispering a few words to Mrs. Birdwell, who had joined them, she nodded and went upstairs, while Alister guided Lyra into the front parlor. Placing a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder, he pushed her toward the pink velvet settee. “Sit.” Pouring some brandy into a crystal tumbler, he handed it to her. “Drink this. It will put some color back into your cheeks.”
She held out a shaky hand and took a tentative sip.
It wasn’t until she was finished and he took the empty glass from her that he asked, “Better?”
She took a deep breath. “A little.”
Satisfied, Alister sat down next to her on the settee. She didn’t look at him, merely stared down at the clasped hands in her lap.
After a moment, she said quietly, “I didn’t realize Richard held such animosity toward me. Or that he could really believe I was responsible for…” She shook her head, as if voicing the rest was just too difficult to imagine.
Alister clenched his jaw. “I’m not sure that display had anything to do with you.”
Lyra glanced at him curiously, so he dared to take a risk and explain the theory that had taken root in his mind. “It was rather brazen of your brother-in-law to make such an obvious scene in a particularly crowded venue. It seems to me he only wished to villainize you in front of a crowd.”
“But why would he do that? And how would he even know I would be there?”
Since he wasn’t quite ready to tackle the second query, he answered the first. “To gain support.”
Her eyes widened. “Whatever for?”
