Page 55 of Desperately Seeking Seduction

She circled Philips, becoming aware that one by one, windows above them were opening to view the fight below. It surely would not be long before someone came to separate them. Winston only had to hold out that long.

Philips swung his fist suddenly and caught Winston a glancing blow on the jaw.

Someone cried out. Win didn’t look around to see who it had been as she staggered back, dazed momentarily.

Philips wasn’t close enough to hit her again. He looked around, beaming a wide smile. “Excuse me a moment while I teach this young pup a lesson he’ll not forget,” Philips said, playing up to their audience and getting a cheer in return from some of the guests hanging out the windows on the upper level.

Next came the footmen and maids, bursting out of every doorway, running to surround them, forming a tight circle from which there was no escape.

Winston rushed Philips, who simply tossed her into the crowd.

They threw her back toward the center again.

Philips ignored her for a moment and puffed out his chest. “The new man has decided to start his day by being trounced by his superior valet.”

A twitter of laughter swept through the crowd.

“Shall I put him in his place?”

A cheer went up for yes and then bets started being placed on the outcome. None of them in Winston’s favor.

She rubbed her jaw, wondering why she’d assumed the fighting would be stopped. Men were bloodthirsty creatures, and greedy for a win at any cost.

She saw Mrs. Derry standing among the crowd. Her face pale but largely composed. Winston turned away from her, knowing there was nothing that could stop the fight now.

She faced off with Philips again, squaring her shoulders.

“Edwin, stop this at once,” Father shouted over the din of the bidding servants.

She turned to look at him as he pushed his way to the front, and their eyes met. Unfortunately, Philips took a swing for her head at that exact moment. She saw it coming out the corner of her eye and bent backward to avoid it, flipping onto her hands and again onto her feet at the edge of the circle.

The crowd roared with laughter. Quick as a wink, she was back at Philips, jabbing at his soft unprotected sides, then raising her hands to ward off another blow the way she’d been taught.

Always get back up, Father had said. It was a mark of a man of small stature not to cower.

“I said stop!” Father bellowed. “Have you no dignity for the spectacle you are making of yourself?”

There was no mistaking that warning was meant for Winston. But before she could answer, someone else did.

“Father, it’s just a bit of harmless fun between the servants,” the replacement Edwin called out from somewhere behind her. “Go back to bed. Or would you care to wager on the little one’s chances? I give him one in ten.”

Winston clenched her jaw and kept her eye on her large opponent, who was following the exchange.

“This is madness,” Father said to everyone. “Stop at once, do you hear.”

But the fight wasn’t over just because he said so. Her honor was at stake. The pride of the Ravenswood servants, too.

Another man pushed through—someone who looked a lot like Lord Stratford. “What’s the meaning of this?”

She spared him a glance and then automatically straightened. This had to be the Duke of Ravenswood.

A footman whispered the particulars of the fight to him, and although he didn’t look happy, he stepped back and nodded. “Have Lord Nash sent for then.”

Given that his words stirred the servants to hoot with joy, she assumed the fight could continue under his gaze. But with the duke presiding over them, there might be some adherence of the rules, but she couldn’t count on it. She had to win.

She risked a glance at her father, saw his face had become deathly pale. She winked at him, as she would have done once before. She would win. Make him proud. Philips might be bigger, but he was slow—all bluster, no skill. He might have longer arms, but she was nimble in a close-quarter match.

The duke made everyone take a large step back, expanding the circle so they had room to move.