Polly pushed past Eastleigh and hurtled toward them, her pale hair mussed and her eyes streaming. “Ah! Here she is now, Charles. Did you enjoy witnessing my humiliation, Miss Sullivan?”
“Polly, please. I am no rival for Lord Eastleigh’s affections. I’ve only ever wanted to be your friend.” Eliza reached out for the distraught girl’s hand. Her gesture was met with a stinging slap to the wrist. Two bright spots of color flared on her cheeks.
“Do you know?” Polly spat. “I’ve had my cap set toward Charles for years. From the time I was a girl. And he wouldn’t so much as glance my way.” Polly’s hands clenched her skirts, her mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. “And finally, I’d charmed him. He was lately round for tea every Sunday. And then you come here, with your slatternly American ways, and all the lords of the realm fall at your feet.”
“That’s not true, Polly. I do not love him, I promise you. Malcolm owns my heart, and only Malcolm.”
“Miss Whitby,” Malcolm said gently, his arm going around Eliza’s waist. “Charles is not worthy of your tears. Your honor is high above his own, I assure you. You’ve no rival with Eliza.”
Polly cackled. “Have you told your Eliza the full story, Malcolm? I’m quite sure her pretty face and fine figure aren’t the real reason you’re wooing her.”
“Havenwood! I’d have a word with you.” Eastleigh rounded the hedge, reeking of liquor, his white tie rumpled and his hat askew. Eliza’s heart gave a sickening twist.
Malcolm stepped in front of Eliza and lifted his hat. “My lord, how pleasant it is to see you this evening.”
Eastleigh glowered. “I was feeling rather the opposite.”
“Look, Charles ... I realize in matters of the heart we share the same interest, but Eliza has made her choice.”
“Indeed. I have,” Eliza said, coming out from behind Malcolm. “Good evening, sir.” She took a deep breath and released it throughtight lips. “Malcolm and I are married. We’ve been so for over two weeks.”
Polly gasped.
“Married!” Eastleigh sneered. He gave a bitter bark. “Really? I’ve seen no banns. I’d warrant the thing, if indeed it happened, is far from legitimate.”
“I have the paperwork from a magistrate in Basingstoke saying that it is.”
“Bloody hell. Rather fast, after a fashion. I suppose you let him have a run up your skirts and there’s a child in your belly he didn’t want born a bastard. They do say you Americans are loose.”
Malcolm tensed next to her. “Sir, you’ll not address my wife in such a coarse manner. Apologize.”
“Or what?”
“Or I shall be forced to challenge you.”
Eastleigh rolled his head back and laughed. “Bold to be challenging the one who holds four mortgages against your estate, sir.”
“Not for long. We’ve filed an injunction against your notice of eviction.” Eliza’s words were as sharp as cut glass. “I’ll soon be clearing my husband’s debts with my fortune. We’ve more than enough to cover it, I assure you.”
Eastleigh tore his hat from his head and tossed it to the ground, where it rolled in a crooked circle. “You righteous little whore.”
“Right. That’s enough. Let’s go, then.” Malcolm unbuttoned his jacket, his jaw clenching.
“Malcolm, please! It isn’t worth it,” Eliza cried. Malcolm ignored her protestations and handed his jacket to Lydia, then pushed up his shirtsleeves. A cold sweat broke out along Eliza’s brow. It seemed a chivalrous thing in a romance novel, having two men fight over you, but in reality, it was anything but. It was nauseating.
“Look, I don’t rate a fight, little Havenwood.” He made a mocking bow to Eliza. “I’m ever so sorry for offending your honor, mylady.”
“Coward,” Malcolm spat. “More gratifying to insult a woman than face your equal, is it?”
“You may have claimed your prize, but her money won’t take the tarnish off your name.” Eastleigh gave a slow, devilish grin. “Do you know? Your father was never proud of you. Called you his soft, pretty lordling. I suppose you’ve got something to prove then, haven’t you?”
Malcolm went after him with a roar, tackling Eastleigh to the ground. They tangled in a heap down the hill, Malcolm’s fists hammering the smug look from Charles’s face. Polly screamed and sat upon the ground, covering her face with her hands, looking for all the world like a ruined, wilting rose. The door to the mansion flew open. Sarah came running out with a horrified shriek, the rest of the guests trailing her. With some effort, Clarence and the other men pulled Malcolm off Charles, who lay rolling on the ground, laughing, his nose bloodied. “Should’ve been your brother that lived, Havenwood. Real man. Unlike you, crying for your mummy when you so much as scratched your knee.”
“Enough, gentlemen!” Sarah boomed, her usual good humor gone. “Lord Eastleigh, Lord Havenwood, you’d both do well to leave immediately, else I’ll be forced to fetch the constable.”
Charles stood and straightened his jacket, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Fine, fine. I’ll be heading out, straightaway.” He tipped his hat to Eliza. “You’ll soon live to regret your choice, Lady Havenwood. You can set a wager on that.”
CHAPTER 16
