Page 38 of The Blind Duchess and Her Rakish Duke

Without any warning, Oliver’s fist came flying towards Joseph’s face, planting him a facer that sent him whirling to the left side. Joseph’s cheek blossomed into an explosion of pain, and no matter how much he tried to press his open palm at that place, it did not diminish the stinging sensation. Part of the pain was the suddenness, the utter and complete lack of preparation for the blow, and the other part was his wounded pride. If he had known they were about to fight, he would have been able to avoid the blow.

“What the deuce, man!?” Joseph cried angrily, endeavoring to move his lower jaw a little bit to the left then to the right. Both motions only caused more pain.

It did not even occur to him to hit Oliver back. It did not make any sense. They’d known each other for years. Oliver was the one who would bail Joseph out of such mischief on occasions when Joseph had one too many to drink and ended up saying some things which would have landed him in trouble. Oliver could always talk his way out of anything. Why would he resort to violence now?

“You have brought shame upon my family even after I urged you and pleaded with you to leave my sisters alone!” Oliver snarled at him like a starving wolf, staring at what would shortly become dinner. His voice was loud, neither of them paying much attention to societal rules and proprieties. Joseph could not care less about those, not before and especially not now. What he did care about, though, was understanding why he was hit.

“What are you talking about?” Joseph spoke, trying to move his lower jaw less than required, but the pain was still intense.

“Do not insult my intelligence by pretending not to know what I am talking about!” Oliver growled even harder, baring his teeth although he was endeavoring to keep himself at a safe distance. Joseph guessed it was to prevent himself from planting Joseph another facer. Silently, he was grateful for that small act of kindness as he still did not wish to enter into a fist fight with his friend. “You have dishonored my sister, Bridget!”

Bollocks.

Joseph’s brows knitted. He was certain that no one had seen them at the dinner party. Seth did not know, but even if he did, he was his cousin. He would not go around spreading malicious rumors about Joseph. Seth was a man to be trusted; Joseph was certain about that. Yet, Oliver somehow knew. That knowledge alone had provided him with the full right to smack him. If Joseph himself was in his shoes, he would probably smack himself twice as hard and twice as many times. At least.

“Listen, Oliver…” Joseph started but wondered what was there to say. Oliver was obviously not in search or in need of an apology. And what else save from an apology could Joseph give him?

“No,youlisten!” Oliver cut him off heatedly. “Who do you think you are, forcing my sister to kiss you on the balcony in such a fiendish manner then running away when caught!? At least have the decency to face me like a man, you scoundrel!”

Kissing? Balcony? Running away?

This story made absolutely no sense. If nothing else, Joseph had been doing his best all evening, trying to stay away from Bridget, knowing that it was better for them both. She deserved a man who would love her without the burden of a past and without a constant struggle between love and duty. She deserved the best, and he was not that. He was not nearly that. Although it hurt beyond description, Joseph had done everything in his power to be discourteous and disagreeable when conversing with her. Now Oliver was accusing him of doing exactly the opposite. That was sheer madness.

“If you wish to hit me again, you will have your chance,” Joseph finally spoke, “but not before I understand why it is exactly that I am being hit. Because your accusations make no sense.”

“You dare deny it still?” Oliver’s eyes shone with hatred the likes of which Joseph had never even seen in his usually peace-loving friend. This side of Oliver was unknown, unexpected.

“I only deny what I know I have not done,” Joseph shook his head. “You accuse me of being with your sister on the balcony when I have not gone near the balcony or your sister all evening, save for that one time to greet both of your sisters.”

“Lies!” Oliver grumbled again. “You think because we are friends that I would not defend my sister from you?”

“No,” Joseph spoke calmly, surprising even himself with the tone of his voice. “It is because we are friends that I expect you to know truth from lies you might have been told by others. It could not have been me, Oliver. You can ask anyone present. Better yet, ask Lord Henley, for I have spent the last hour conversing with him regarding the price of coal and the railroad stocks.”

“The man would lie if you asked him to,” Oliver snarled like a rabid dog, taking a step closer to Joseph.

This would not end well. Joseph could see that. He did not wish to fight Oliver. This was just a misunderstanding. A very bad one, but a misunderstanding, nonetheless. All he needed now was for Oliver to realize that, so they could find a solution to this.

“Lord Henley would not lie for me,” Joseph continued equally calmly. He could not afford to sound as furious as Oliver, for that would set his friend off immediately, and a fight would ensue. One punch was more than enough for the evening in Joseph’s opinion. “However, if you do not believe him, you can ask anyone else in the room. I have not been outside in the last hour or so. Believe me.”

Joseph stared him down. The anger in his friend’s eyes revealed the frightened child within, the child who believed he was doing something right although it did not feel right. That was why Joseph always considered Oliver such a dear friend. Oliver was not made for a world of indifference. Those he loved he defended he fervent passion.

“I saw you cowering, running away with my own two eyes! You cannot fool me!”

Before Joseph could even see it coming, Oliver’s hand curled up into a fist once more and landed in the same spot as before. Joseph heard something crack inside his nose this time, pain flowering all along the line of his bridge.

Still unwilling to fight Oliver, Joseph backed up in an effort to escape a possible onslaught of more punches. He closed his eyes, his entire body bending forward, trying to shield himself. Something horrible had happened; something he had no idea about. Yet, he felt fear. He felt confusion. He felt compassion for the man who was standing opposite him with fear governing all his other emotions, making him react in such a violent manner, but he did not blame him. He did not consider him at fault for this. Whatever it was, Oliver was a victim of it as much as his sister was.

Bridget.

His heart whispered her name with so much tenderness, so much love. With every word he spoke to her unkindly, he felt like he had been betraying his own heart, angering it in the process. He never felt like he had been on a pure path, the right path, until she came upon it. She was his heaven guide, the one that was supposed to make his life worth living. Yet, he pushed her away, erroneously believing that his true path lay elsewhere, far away from her.

He knew better now. If this was the punishment, and he needed to take in order to deserve her, he would gladly accept it. That was the moment when he straightened up, revealing his face. He opened his eyes to see Oliver preparing for the next punch. Love contracted his muscles, but he did not wince. He waited. He would endure a million punches to earn her love back.

“Joseph!” her voice pierced through the darkness, and only then did he realize that without her, he had been missing the essential part of air, and silently, on the inside, he was choking without her presence. Now that she was here, he could breathe again. Even if that meant through the vessel of a broken nose at the hands of her enraged brother.

Chapter 24

“Oliver, no! Please, don’t!”

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