Page 61 of Venus in Disguise

Whilst the fellow whose nose he had broken was sitting on the ground as blood dripped in a steady stream from between his fingers, five more men faced him, four of them clearly hired thugs.

The fifth Ash recognised as Lord Richmond, Narcissa’s older brother.

“Did you really think we’d let you get your filthy hands on one of our own and do nothing about it?” the man demanded in disgust.

Ash regarded him critically, noticing the livid bruise at his eye and another staining his jaw.

“Did Hartley do that?” he asked conversationally. “He always did have a brutal right hook.”

Richmond coloured so vividly that it was discernible even in the dim light of the garden.

“One sister lost to gutter scum, the other to a half-breed. You’ve given his grace a stroke, I hope you realise. If he dies, it’s as good as murder.”

Ash snorted. “And you’re praying he kicks off so you can inherit, I don’t doubt,” he said, regarding Richmond with derision.

Even before he’d met Narcissa, he had hated the man. The Sons had voted unanimously to refuse him membership to the club, all of them holding him in contempt for his cruelty and the disrespect with which he treated anyone he did not consider his equal.

“Better that than watch Narcissa sink herself so low with her marriage to you, the son of an illegitimate Indian whore.”

Ash did not think, he simply reacted. If Richmond had believed himself safe with his little army of bully boys, he quickly reassessed the situation, as Ash felled two in as many seconds. The man’s puffy, florid face blanched, and he stumbled back, screaming at the remaining men to do what they’d been paid for.

“Kill the bastard!” he yelled, hurrying out of the way as Ash had no choice but to divert his attention to the men who came at him with murder in their eyes.

Narcissa sat shivering in the hired hackney cab as it pulled up just around the corner from the club on Portman Square. She’d had the devil’s own job in escaping the house without Mrs Fenchurch noticing and she feared the fight would be long over by now. Yet, she must warn Ash to be on his guard. As a child, she had feared her brother and had been more than glad that he rarely noticed her existence. Her little brother Alex had suffered the brunt of his spite, bullied by both him and their father, though Richmond’s attentions were worse, needlessly cruel and humiliating. He had thought it frightfully amusing to lock Alex in a large chest and leave him there for hours, listening to the poor boy crying and begging to be let out.

Narcissa had been too young and afraid of Richmond to stand up to him, though she had run to her father who had put a stop to it. He had thrashed Richmond for being an ignorant brute and coldly instructed Alex to stop being a snivelling baby and stand up to his brother instead of weeping like a girl. Narcissa had not escaped his scorn either, though she got off lightly in contrast, sent to bed with his furious voice ringing in her ears and with no supper for tattling on her brother. It had hardly been an ideal solution, but at least Alex had been free, and she had comforted the poor boy as best she could once he was safely out of Richmond’s way. After that, things had been worse for Alex, however, as Richmond was far more dangerous when he’d been humiliated or bested. The boy’s life was made a misery as Richmond set traps that ranged from cutting the girth of his pony’s saddle, to leaving bone-crushing animal traps in the garden in the places Alex liked to play. Thankfully, Alex had escaped serious injury, but all three siblings understood just how dangerous their older brother was. Happily, Richmond had returned to town soon after and they had all breathed a sigh of relief.

If he was smarting from his confrontation with Mr De Beauvoir, however—a fight which seemed to have been not only over before it began, but humiliatingly public, with many print shop caricatures and stories about the event—she could only imagine the depths of his rage. Richmond would be out for vengeance, and she did not expect him to be a gentleman in how he went about it.

Peering out of the grimy carriage window, Narcissa squinted into the darkness toward the club. Men were hurrying out of it, heading towards the centre of the sizeable garden that covered much of the square. Their excited voices reached her in a low rumble of sound and her skin prickled with apprehension. The sudden conviction that Ash and Richmond were at the heart of whatever it was drawing everyone’s attention struck her square in the chest and would not be dislodged.

She jumped awkwardly down from the carriage, paid the driver, and asked him to wait before she ran towards the centre of the garden. She pulled the hat that covered her thick hair on more securely, aware of it shifting and knowing there would be a terrible scandal if she was discovered here, dressed like a boy. As she ran, she prayed, begging God to keep her husband safe, and promising to be a more biddable and well-behaved wife if only he was unharmed.

As the nightmarish scene before her took shape, however, the breath left her lungs in a rush, leaving her cold with terror. Ash was fighting for his life, three men trying their best to pummel him on all sides as he blocked and countered their savage fists. Narcissa ran forward, too frightened to scream, the sound feeling as though it was trapped in her lungs as she tried to reach him. To her relief, she saw the men from the club rush in, intervening and pulling his opponents aside, leaving Ash breathing hard, bent double with his hands on his thighs, spitting blood onto the floor. Someone went to help him, but he waved them away. Then Narcissa saw Richmond standing alone, off to the side. She saw the look in his eyes as he stalked towards Ash, his face a mask of hatred. No one else had seen, no one else had noticed the knife in his hand, too entertained by the men who were continuing to brawl in their efforts to escape. Narcissa screamed, the sound tearing from her as she ran harder than she ever had in her life before, throwing herself towards Ash, desperate to warn him.

Ash’s head came up, his eyes widening in shock as he saw her running towards him. His attention was riveted upon her and though Narcissa tried to cry out, to warn him to look, she had no breath, only managing a shriek of fear that had Ash reaching out for her. Narcissa crashed against him, pushing him sideways with all her might. He took a sideways step, more out of surprise than any force she delivered. Her hat fell to the ground, her hair tumbling down her shoulders as he stared at her in alarm.

“What the devil—"

A hard punch to her side stole the breath from her lungs and Narcissa gasped, swaying in his embrace, her eyes wide.

“Holy hell!” Ash said under his breath. “Narcissa, what are you doing here?”

He broke off as he withdrew his hand from her waist and saw the blood staining his palm. Ash pulled aside the too-large coat and Narcissa looked too, feeling as though she was watching through someone else’s eyes as she saw the small dark stain spreading upon her waistcoat, the neatly cut slash in the fabric. Narcissa glanced up at him in confusion, seeing the colour drain from his face, leaving him ashen with terror. As bewildered as she was, Ash stared at her, not comprehending what had happened until he glanced up and saw Richmond.

Narcissa followed his gaze to see her brother watching them, his mouth agape, the knife still in his hand.

“Ash, what the hell—”

Narcissa recognised Muir Anderson, saw him realise who she was, and then he registered Richmond standing there, bloody knife in hand.

“I’ll kill him,” Ash said softly, the words all the more terrifying for the quiet manner in which he spoke them.

“Nae, ye can no leave her, Ash. Ye must care for the lassie. Ye may leave the blackguard to me, though. I’ll deal with him,” Muir said, his expression dark with fury.

The last glimpse Narcissa had of her brother was the look of terror in his eyes as the intimidating figure of Muir Anderson advanced on him.

“Here,” said a calm voice, and Ash shifted, taking something from whoever stood beside him. Narcissa cried out as Ash pressed hard against the burning pain in her side, her mind whirling as she fought to stay conscious.