Page 56 of The Season of Lady Chastity

There was no mistaking who she spoke of as his mother glanced up at him at the same time his eyes alighted on the woman who’d filled his every waking thought—and his dreams—for days.

Comstock and Tamblerton were moving in his direction with Lady Chastity not far behind. The only occurrence more embarrassing than Lady Chastity overhearing Comstock’s cruel taunts would be his mother witnessing the men’s atrocious behavior.

“Do enjoy yourself, Mama.” Bastian nodded to Durpentire.

Bastian’s shoulders tensed as the two men grew closer.

His mother and Durpentire moved off, taking to the dance floor, only a moment before Comstock and his crony neared. Both lords frowned, certainly not the jovial mood he would expect at a ball—a Christmastide wedding ball at that. They spoke low between themselves as they stalked toward the cardroom, not far from where Bastian stood.

It was only as they passed, neither noticing his presence, that Bastian overheard part of their conversation.

“…turned me down,” Tamblerton grunted. “Her father may be a marquis, but she is certainly nothing special. I am a bloody viscount. A wealthy lord.”

“Do not worry yourself, old chap,” Comstock said, clapping his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “She thinks herself above you and me, but she’s little more than a common tart—Downshire’s daughter or not. By the end of the evening, she will see the error of her ways.”

Bastian had taken the men’s taunts and mistreatment in stride all these years. It was directed at him and affected no one else.

However, Lady Chastity was more a proper lady than any woman Comstock had likely met in all his life. Speaking of her in such a way was not only improper, it was utterly unacceptable. To make matters worse, Chastity was moving in their wake in the direction of her sister waiting by the cardroom door—or had she changed her mind about dancing with Tamblerton?

Fury boiled within Bastian as the pair paused and turned back toward Lady Chastity. Tamblerton’s outrage dissipated, and they smiled at Lady Chastity.

Tamblerton leered. “Come to beg our forgiveness, my lady?”

Chastity paused, glancing past the lord to her sister beyond. “No, I fear it is only horrible happenstance that we are moving in the same direction.” To her credit, Chastity’s chin lifted a notch as she rebuffed Tamblerton.

“Why not come with us to the terrace where we can speak about your rudeness in private,” Comstock stepped forward and grabbed Chastity’s elbow. “You will see you’ve made a grave mistake in embarrassing my friend.”

Chastity winced at his crushing grip, and Bastian had had enough of the two lords.

“Unhand her, Comstock,” Bastian demanded, stepping free of the crowd bordering the dance floor.

The pair of men glanced at Bastian and chuckled. “Or what, Manny? You’ll summon your mama to come scold us all proper-like?”

Chastity struggled in Comstock’s hold as Tamblerton moved in closer to her, shielding the scuffle from view. There was absolute terror in her eyes as the color drained from her face, leaving her skin an ashen green hue.

“Mayhap your mama will call on my father and have my allowance taken away,” Tamblerton hissed.

“This girl needs to understand that she does not turn my friend down when he is kind enough to offer her the privilege of a dance. She is a plain, frumpish prude who should know her place.” Comstock jerked Chastity’s arm as if he meant to drag her from the room. “I can assure you, her father will be disappointed to hear that his daughter was anything but hospitable to his business associates.”

Bastian had never been a gentleman prone to fits of rage.

Never had he been a violent man.

But now, Bastian pushed forward, causing Comstock to release his hold on Chastity. He drew his hand back. His fist shot out, crushing Comstock square in the nose and sending him skidding backwards onto the floor as crimson blood rushed down the rogue’s face to mar his expertly tied cravat.

Tamblerton knelt at his friend’s side, attempting to assist him up, but Comstock waved off his help.

“Mansfield,” Comstock snarled. “You will regret—”

“The only thing I will regret is not exposing your vile nature years ago, Comstock,” Bastian said, stepping before Chastity. “You are a despicable man and are not fit to be near a woman of Lady Chastity’s distinction.” Bastian vaguely noted that the ballroom had gone completely silent; however, he did not care about the spectacle he created. Protecting Lady Chastity’s honor was worth a million scandalous scenes. “Tamblerton, collect your sniveling friend and depart Oxburgh Hall. Tonight. Take Liddell and Ruthven with you. I am certain you do not wish Montrose and Torrington to hear of your despicable behavior.”

“You cannot—” Tamberton stammered. “I say…this is—"

“I can, and I will.” Bastian’s harsh tone left no room for argument. “If I find you still in residence at the end of this night, I will personally come and throw the four of you from Montrose’s house. And it will be with the duke’s blessing and Downshire lending assistance.”

Bastian had no way of knowing if Chastity’s father would take his side or not.

Without a doubt, Montrose would align with him.