Page 49 of How to Best a Marquess

He lunged for her, but Hugh grasped his leg and took him down. The man fell onto Hugh, and they began to struggle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Butch jump to his feet and sprint off into the park.

Ellie spotted more stones by the creek. She hurried to grab another but tripped on her wet skirts and went down hard on her hands and knees. Hugh struggled with the stocky man, landing several good punches. She grasped the biggest stone she could find, but before she could smash it on the criminal’s head, Hugh struck him beneath the chin with a solid blow. He blinked in amazement, then scrambled to his feet and fled.

Hugh rushed to her side and helped her stand. “Ellie! Are you all right?”

She brushed her mud-slicked skirts. Her hands were bleeding from her fall, and the tender skin stung. She was shaking. “Yes. I’ll be fine.”

“My God. I told you to run.”

“He had a gun. He could have shot you.”

“No, love. He could have shot you.” A haunted look crossed his face. Without waiting for her response, he led her away from the bridge and onto the main path. The downpour had diminished to a sprinkling rain. No one was left in the park.

Relief coursed through her that they had both survived unharmed. “We need to tell the magistrate.”

“I will handle it. I would have pursued them, but I would never leave you alone. My God, the way they looked at you. It filled me with rage.”

Her stomach tightened, and her heart began to gallop once again. “Do you think they will be caught by the authorities?”

“Men like that will commit another crime. I can only hope they are captured before then.”

“I’m grateful that you have developed a fondness for boxing,” she said.

“I am, too. Although I never thought to use it outside the ring as much as I have been called to lately.”

She knew he meant with Baron Willoughby as well as with the footpads.

He tugged on her arm. “Are you certain you were not injured?”

“I’m certain. Only a few scrapes.” She held up her hands.

He frowned but didn’t release her. He cradled her face, his eyes studying her for injury.

“See. Nothing,” she said.

He turned her hands over and examined the cuts. “I wouldn’t call this nothing. The next time I tell you to run, you must promise to obey.”

“I hope there will never be a next time!”

His expression turned fierce. “You know what I mean, woman. When I saw you throw the stone at that man and he went after you, I felt a panic I have never known.”

The look in his eyes was pure concern and something else…something possessive. She tried not to look too deeply into that. They’d both just survived a harrowing incident. All types of emotions coursed through them. That was all.

“Let’s get you back to the club.”

“Not my home?” That’s where they were initially headed. Why change his mind?

He shook his head. “I can’t treat you there. And your brother will undoubtedly have questions as soon as he sees you.”

She experienced another form of panic. She looked a mess, with bloody hands and a wet and torn dress. She could only imagine how unruly her hair looked. She pushed a damp red lock from her forehead. If anyone saw her—Ian, Grace, or even Olivia—the household would be in upheaval. Ian might change his mind about her contest with Hugh over the club. Even Grace would not be able to argue on Ellie’s behalf.

“Yes, let’s go to the club.”

He turned to lead her away, and that was when she saw the tear in the left shoulder of his greatcoat and the growing bloodstain on the white shirt beneath.