She’d gone several yards then realized she’d lost sight of them. Dusk had deepened into night and the path ahead was unlit. The area she now found herself in appeared to be roped off. There was nothing to do but return to the Grove and trust that Arabella was all right.
A rough hand clutched her arm and spun her around. “Now where are you off to, pretty lady?”
“Let me go!” Heart pounding, Mercy pulled away from him.
Lamont chuckled and obeyed, but his hands fell instead onto her shoulders, his fingers digging into the skin. “A kiss or two first.”
“No!” Mercy tried to kick out at him, but was hampered by her slim skirts. She let out a scream, but his hand smothered her mouth cutting it off. He dragged her towards the murky shadows beneath the trees. A horrible ripping sound rent the air as she struggled. She pushed against him, finding him far stronger than he appeared.
“Be quiet! Do you want to draw attention to yourself?” He sniggered. “Your reputation will suffer worse than mine.”
Mercy sank her teeth into his bare hand.
“Vixen!”
She gasped and feared she would suffocate when his fingers pinched her nose. He swung her back against him, and his other hand clasped her throat beneath her chin. “Don’t struggle, or I’ll snuff you out like a candle.”
Her feet thrashed about for purchase as he pulled her inexorably over the path toward a thicket. Terrified, her heart pounded and she sucked in desperate breaths through his fingers.
Suddenly, she was free. No longer supported, she collapsed onto the hard ground. She raised her head in time to see Lamont careering into a tree trunk, head over tail.
Lord Northcliffe stalked after him. He leaned over Lamont, picked him up by his coat and shook him until his head wobbled. “Mongrel!”
The man’s eyes widened in fear, and he attempted to protect himself, holding his fists up before his face.
Mercy swallowed, her throat sore, overwhelmed by the efficiency with which Lord Northcliffe dealt with Lamont. His fists struck the fellow with unerring accuracy on the jaw and nose until it bled freely. He pummeled him in the stomach, until the wretch could no longer attempt to fight back and went limp.
“Don’t let me find you here again. If I do, it will go worse for you.”
Lamont, whimpering, crawled to his feet and staggered away down the path, doubled over.
Northcliffe spun around. “I should call a constable, but then everyone will learn of this. What were you thinking coming out here with that rake? You might have been ravished! Have you no sense?”
Mercy blanched at the disgusted look on his face and the harsh tone of his voice. Her bodice was torn baring too much of her chest. “No, I…” Furious at the injustice, she shakily attempted to climb to her feet, but her ankle crumpled beneath her and she fell again.
“You’re hurt.” Northcliffe knelt before her.
“It’s my ankle,” she managed to mumble as pain shot up her leg.
Northcliffe lifted the hem of her gown and rested her foot against his thigh. He prodded her ankle with gentle fingers.
“My lord!” she protested.
“Now’s hardly the time to turn maidenly,” he said in a brusque tone. “Nothing broken. Might just be wrenched. I’ll return you to your mother and call the carriage.”
She clutched the shreds of her bodice together and bit down on a sob. Her ankle throbbed, but the fact that he should think so ill of her bothered her more. Had that been Arabella in the yellow dress? Or was she back safely with Lady Jane? Mercy prayed it was so. She didn’t want to get her into trouble.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “If you could just…”
Northcliffe slipped his arm around her waist and the other beneath her legs. He lifted her up.
“There’s no need…” she gasped.
“There’s every need,” he said grimly, striding with her in his arms along the avenue toward the entry to the Grove.
Mercy hung on, her fingers clutching his fine wool coat, aware of the strength of his arms and the ease with which he carried her. “I could walk if you’d just help me.” Indignant and embarrassed she drew in quick breaths filled with his manly scent.
He settled her more firmly against his chest. “Nonsense.”
