Page 25 of To Steal a Kiss

“You take that back, you bastard,” Nate growled, taking a step towards Bindley.

“Never mind that, Nate,” Matilda snapped, giving him a look that promised retribution. She turned instead to Bindley. “What do you want?”

A man like Bindley always wanted something, and Matilda knew what it was.

A little gossiping this evening had put her in possession of a deal of information. Mr Edgar Bindley might be the son of the Earl of Ulceby, but he was up to his neck in the River Tick. The entire family was. Everything that wasn’t entailed was mortgaged to the hilt, and the family owed vast sums of money. Alice’s generous dowry and sweet nature would make her perfect for a man like Bindley. No doubt he’d been spying on her, waiting for an opportunity to have something over her, and Nate had all but gifted him leverage.

“W-Why, I want Miss Dowding to stop playing c-coy and agree to m-marry me,” he said, a smile on his lips that made Matilda shudder. “If she does it right away, I m-might consider forgetting the fact my b-betrothed is a slut.”

Both women gasped as Nate closed the distance between himself and Bindley. He grasped Bindley by the cravat and hauled him up, so his toes barely touched the floor.

“I’ll kill you for that,” he said, the fury in his voice suggesting he wasn’t paying lip service to the words. He meant it. “You’ll not lay a hand on her, or look at her, or speak of her, to anyone. She’s marrying me.”

Matilda let out a breath of relief. Thank God. She ought to have known her brother was too honourable for anything less than that. After what had happened to Matilda, he’d never allow another to suffer what the marquess had done to his sister.

“Her parents will n-never allow it,” Bindley sneered, clutching at his cravat and trying to get free. “I’m an earl’s son, and you’re… N-Nathaniel Hunt.” He said the name as though there was some insult imbued within it, and Nate reacted.

Matilda shrieked as he drew his fist back but, before she could do anything, Alice had laid her hand on Nate’s arm.

“Stop,” she said, her small hand clinging to him. “Stop this.”

Nate threw Bindley away from him with a look of utter disgust.

“Alice, darling. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?” he said, and Matilda was startled by the sincerity in his voice, the look in his eyes, as he turned to Alice. “There’s no need to worry. We’ll be married at once. I’ll arrange everything. We’ll do it before there’s even a breath of scandal—”

“No.”

Nate froze. They all did. Alice took a deep breath and repeated that unlikely word.

“No,” she said again. “I won’t marry you, and I certainly won’t marry him.”

Matilda blinked, a little startled at Alice’s vehemence. Half the time you had to listen closely when conversing with Alice, as she was so softly spoken it was impossible to hear her if there was any background noise. That was not a problem now.

“Alice,” Matilda said, moving closer to her and taking her hand. As she did so, she realised Alice was trembling. “Alice, darling, Nate is right. That odious man will tell the world what happened here. I applaud you for not marrying him, I think you’d regret it for the rest of your days if you did, but you must marry Nate. You simply must.”

To Matilda’s consternation, Alice shook her head.

“I won’t.”

Matilda looked at her brother, shocked at the raw emotion she saw in his eyes. As he saw her watching his expression shuttered up. His jaw grew tight, but she’d seen it.

“You s-see,” Bindley said, triumph in his voice. “Even the s-slut knows you’re not worth marrying.”

Nate spun around, fist raised, as Alice and Matilda cried out and Bindley gave a muffled squawk of terror.

Stop.”

Silence filled the room.

Oh, God, no. Fear prickled down Matilda’s spine. She’d thought this evening could not possibly get any worse, but it just had. The Marquess of Montagu stood in the doorway, proud and implacable. The severe lines of his face made him look harsher than ever in the dim candlelight.

Stop, he’d said, and they had stopped. The man hadn’t even raised his bloody voice over the din of screams and shouts, he just stood there and told them stop, and they’d all frozen in place as if God himself had given the order. What was it about this man that commanded such authority?

“This is none of your affair,” Nate said savagely as he stared at the marquess.

A terrible situation had just become a great deal more combustible; Nate hated this man more than anyone else in the world.

“I should think not,” Montagu said, looking revolted at the idea. “However, it seems the children are up past their bedtimes and need an adult to supervise them.”