Page 86 of The Duchess in His Bed
“It must have been a servant. I’ll let go the lot of them.”
Grabbing his lapels, Aiden jerked him out of the chair with such force that his glass went flying before crashing to the floor. “I know it was you.”
The old man shoved himself free. “You can’t prove it. You can’t prove anything.”
“We’re well aware of that, but that doesn’t mean we can’t see justice done.”
“Touch me again, and I’ll have you arrested. It is against the law to strike a lord.”
“Think you we care about your threats? She is my mother.”
“Who asked me to rid her of you so she could continue to live in luxury.”
That wasn’t what she’d told Aiden. He’d been taken from her. He placed more value on her words.
“That damned Trewlove woman was supposed to kill you both. I should ask her for recompense.”
Aiden’s fist struck fast and hard, square in the middle of his sire’s face, sending the man reeling back and landing with a hard thud on the floor.
Finn was there, slipping his arms beneath the man’s shoulders, helping him to his feet. Once the lord was steady, Finn rapidly locked the earl’s arms behind him and held him in place.
“What the devil—”
Aiden sank his balled hand into the pudgy gut. The sound of flesh pounding into flesh and the grunt were both satisfying to his ears. “Your wife is under our protection now.”
Another strike. Anotheroof!“She won’t be returning to you.”
He would set her up in a room at Mick’s hotel until he could work out other accommodations. Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it onto the desk and rolled his shoulders.
“You have no right,” the earl yelled, his face blotchy and red.
“We protect what is ours.” Aiden didn’t restrain himself as he delivered another solid blow.
The earl’s legs buckled, but Finn clenched his jaw and continued to keep him upright.
“I’ll see you both hanged!”
“We’ll see you dead first.” He didn’t plan to kill the man, but he was going to leave him hurting. He pummeled him three times, taking satisfaction in the grunt and groans. Stepping back, he nodded at Finn, who immediately released his hold. The earl dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes tossed into the cupboard. His face was blotchy red with anger, his eyes bulging with hatred, his breathing labored as though even the air sought to avoid being in his presence.
Aiden crouched in front of him. “You’ll stay away from the Duchess of Lushing. You’ll stay away from your wife. As a matter of fact, I believe you’re going to steer clear of all your mistresses as well. We’re going to keep a close watch on you and won’t hesitate to visit you again to make our position clear.”
“You bast—bast—ba...” His mouth went slack and one side of his face seemed to melt as it drooped and he made murmurs of distress.
Finn knelt beside Aiden. “What the devil is wrong with him?”
The blows might have rendered him immobile for a time, but this reaction was more than that. With his gaze distant and his eyes glazed over, it didn’t seem the earl was with them any longer, but he certainly wasn’t dead.
“Could it be apoplexy?” Aiden asked.
“It’s possible, I suppose. If so, I shall take no pity on him.”
“Neither will I. He’s brought far worse hell to others.”
Graves had arrived and gone to the earl’s bedchamber to examine him. Aiden had gone to the club to inform the countess of what had transpired, and she’d returned with him to the manor. Aiden and Finn sat with her in the front parlor, awaiting the physician’s diagnosis.
The slamming of the front door echoed through the residence, and they all came to their feet as a young man rushed into the parlor. Aiden didn’t need an introduction to know he was Viscount Wyeth. He saw himself reflected in the man’s brown hair, dark eyes, and strong jaw.
“Mother.” He had his arms around the countess before the word was completely uttered. “I left my club as soon as I received your missive about Father. How does he fair?”
