Page 54 of Marigold and the Marquess
They enjoyed a lively lunch, then Leo had Marigold show him more of the museum for no reason other than she glowed as she spoke of these finds. He took pleasure in seeing her so happy.
They bid farewell to Marigold’s friends and were about to climb into Leo’s carriage when he spotted the familiar figure of Lord Beldon approaching.
Was it mere chance or had the bastard been following them?
Leo immediately tensed and drew Marigold slightly behind him, but she resisted. “Leo, he is merely walking down the street. You cannot do anything to him.”
He did not believe for a moment this was a chance meeting. Beldon must have put his own men to watch them and report their whereabouts back to him. In truth, he had felt they were being watched since leaving their home this morning. “Get in the carriage, Marigold.”
Leo was steaming and did not expect this encounter to end well. He had been waiting four years to confront Beldon and put an end to his vicious games.
Marigold grabbed his arm. “No, Leo. Please. You will play straight into his hands if you cause a scene. Let’s go home.”
“In a moment,” he said.
“Now,” she countered, refusing to let go of his arm. “I know you are angry because you think he has been following us. But do not forget, Crown agents are following him. They will stop him if he attempts anything.”
“So long as they do not stop me,” he replied, his voice raw with a building rage and his expression lethal. “It is time to stir this hornet’s nest.”
She gasped. “You would purposely goad him to take action against you? Leo, that is a terrible idea.”
“I did not ask for you opinion. Get in the carriage. I mean it, Marigold.” He gave her no choice but lifted her inside.
To his relief, she did not hop back down, merely remained watching him warily. He knew he was frightening her, but he had made no secret of his hatred for Beldon. What had started as irksome jealousy on Beldon’s part had escalated into four years of humiliation and torture. It was time for repayment.
He must have frightened the wits out of Marigold, for the color had drained from her cheeks and her lips were pursed with tension. He would never harm her, but he did not want her so confident that she would ignore his wishes and blithely rush into danger.
“Beldon,” he said, as the puffed up lord now approached with a smug expression on his face.
“Fancy meeting you here, Muir. Afraid your pretty wife might run off with one of the curators if you do not watch her like a hawk? Perhaps it is one of Huntsford’s brothers who has you jealous.” The fiend’s gaze came to rest on Marigold with an intensity Leo did not like.
Leo took him by the throat. “Keep away from my wife. If I catch you anywhere near her, I shall gut you. This is the only warning you will receive.”
He released Beldon and turned to walk away, then noticed Marigold– whose head was still poking out from the carriage– suddenly go from concerned to alarmed.
This is what he had hoped for, the opportunity to do Beldon in.
He whirled just as Beldon withdrew the blade hidden within his walking stick and attempted to stab Leo with it. Leo wrestled it out of his hands, kicked it away, and then landed a solid punch that dropped Beldon to his knees.
Blood spurted from Beldon’s nostrils.
Leo punched him again and this time cut his lip.
It wasn’t nearly enough blood, to Leo’s way of thinking. He was ready to finish Beldon off, but Octavian and Julius ran forward to stop him.
Leo was strong, but Octavian was built like an ox and hauled him back. “Leo, I will break your hand if I must do it to protect you from yourself.”
Marigold rushed to them. “Oh, thank goodness you stopped him. Leo, are you out of your mind?”
Perhaps he was.
All the more grounds for Marigold to pursue that annulment if it became necessary.
He tried to calm himself, for he was an enraged animal and wanted to rip Beldon apart piece by piece until the sniveling coward was dead. If Beldon was responsible for his capture and confinement all these years, then was his revenge not justice? “Get up, Beldon,” he said with a growl. “Come at me again.”
“I want him arrested! Hanged!” Beldon shouted, but his words were muffled while he pressed his elegant handkerchief to his mouth and nose.
Octavian rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Beldon. First of all, he is a peer. No one is going to arrest him. Second of all, it will be your word against ours. All we saw was you removing your weapon to attack a man while his back was turned. What did you intend to do? Stab him in the back? He is the one with every right to see you arrested and hanged.”
