“A problem?” Robert muttered. “You haven’t seen half of it yet.”
Viola ignored him and focused on Henry instead. Her head had started to hurt and in all honesty, she really wanted to turn her back on this discussion and let someone else deal with it for her, but that would only prove she was weak, in need of saving, a damsel in distress—the exact opposite of what she wanted to be.
Henry leaned in closer to her so he could whisper, “Robert is unpredictable. He may cause a scene, and if that happens, I think if would be wise of you to be as far away from it as possible, Viola. That does not mean you’re running away or leaving me to fight your battles for you, it simply means you’re being wise in protecting your own interests.”
Even as anger raced through her, his words brushed over her skin with soothing strokes. He made her want so much she hardly knew where to begin with her list. “Very well,” she agreed. “I will do as you suggest.”
He inhaled deeply, and it occurred to Viola that her acquiescence in this matter signified more than she had expected it to. It suggested a partnership built on respect and trust and a shared understanding of mutual goals.
“Thank you,” he murmured, the steely gaze he’d been giving Robert pushed aside to reflect his fondness for her.
Speechless, she nodded and allowed Gabriella and Viola to lead her away.
“Coward,” she heard Robert shout in her wake.
“Don’t listen to him,” Gabriella said. “You’re the bravest woman there is.”
“And he knows fighting you won’t be easy,” Amelia added. “Least of all when you have Mr. Lowell by your side.”
Viola knew there was truth to be found in those words. Without Henry, she wasn’t sure what she’d have done. He didn’t so much give her the strength she needed as show her how to use what she already had in her possession. His belief in her was undeniable and perhaps the most significant part of their relationship. He allowed her to be who she was and encouraged her to do so wholeheartedly. If anything would ever convince her to marry him, then that was it.
“Apologize,” Henry growled while staring Robert down. Fury curled around every tendon, honing his muscles in preparation for battle. To hide it all beneath a calm exterior while Viola was present had been difficult, but now that she was gone, he felt no compulsion to pretend he would not savor punching Robert in the face.
“For what?” Robert asked as if he’d been dealt a great injustice.
“For showing up here uninvited, for ruining an otherwise pleasant evening and for calling the duchess a coward when you know damn well she’s anything but.”
“Devil take you, Lowell,” Robert sneered. His posture turned rigid as if he too were preparing to fight. “You’ve let a woman, a charlatan of the first order, outfox you.”
“Take that back right now or so help me God—”
“She’s using you to her advantage. Don’t you see?” Robert’s eyes glinted like a raven’s honing in on a piece of silver. “You and I were friends, so what better way to fight me than to get you on her side?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it?” They stared back at each other for a long, drawn-out moment before Robert leaned back with a chuckle. “I pity you, Lowell. You’re in love with a fucking whore!”
How Henry managed to stop his fist from making contact with Robert’s face was something he would wonder over at great length later. What he did instead was grab the bastard by the arm and march him out of the building and away from anyone who might overhear the following words.
Chapter 18
“I see no other recourse than to meet with you tomorrow morning at dawn,” Henry said.
“You’re willing to risk your life for her?”
Henry refused to dignify his question with an answer. “Pick your weapon,sir.”
Robert’s face twisted with undeniable malice. “Pistols. So I can shoot you in the head!”
“Excellent choice,” Henry murmured. “Best go find your second.”
Robert glared at him for a long moment while the need to strike thickened between them. Henry bolstered himself in preparation for an attack while Robert’s breaths came in small puffs. Eventually, he spun on his heel and walked away into the darkness.
“Six o’clock at Hackney Meadows. I’ll bring the physician,” Henry called after him.
He would also need a second, he realized, which meant he would have to speak to Yates. Returning inside, he went in search of the earl, whom he found lounging on one of the divans in the dance room. He was keeping company with Miss Harlow, who was presently laughing at something Yates was saying.
“I need to discuss something with you.” Henry cast a deliberate glance at Yates’s companion and waited for the earl to excuse himself from her company and join Henry in a more private corner of the room. “Something’s come up. An urgent matter with which I require your help.”
