Page 20 of Charlotte's Kisses

“I believe Hugh Fletcher was lying on top of you, my lady.”

“What the bloody hell?” Were these two seriously trying to set Hugh up so that he could be blackmailed?

With a raised fist, Leon marched toward them. “My lady, I believe when you came here to tell an old lover that you were not interested in rekindling your romance because you arehappily married, he became angry. I came with you and waited outside due to his volatile temper. I heard you screaming and ran in to find a horrific scene. I cannot even repeat how indecent it was.”

“Try,” she said, a fake sweetness in her command.

Leon waved his arms about theatrically. “Why, he was…” He brought a palm to his mouth and feigned a gasp. “He was forcing himself on you.”

Gritting his teeth through the pain, Hugh stood and stomped as hard as his battered body allowed. He would knock this lying bloke all the way to hell. “You repulsive pile of dung.”

Undaunted, Leon stepped into Hugh’s space. Nose to nose, they stood glaring at each other.

“My lady, I had no other choice, I had to step in and protect you.” Leon’s fist slammed into Hugh’s jaw.

Hugh flew backward. His blasted body was so weak he stumbled about like a newborn foal. Once he gained purchase, he raised a battle cry and charged. His fist met Leon’s nose.

Unfortunately, Leon answered the punch with a devastating clobber to Hugh’s breadbasket. Three sharp jabs followed. Leon’s fourth blow caught Hugh’s jaw, and blood spattered.

Hugh landed on his bruised arse. He wiped his hand across his mouth. Sticky blood coated his fingers.

Leon stepped back and shook out his hand.

“Remember, you are to bring the information to me before you relay your findings to my husband,” the marchioness said. “And he is not to know of our arrangement.”

“Like hell,” Hugh said. “We have no bloody arrangement.”

“Then prepare for my stepdaughter to hear the rumors of our long-ago untoward affair and your current indecentadvances.” The marchioness pressed the heel of her slipper into Hugh’s thigh, then stomped.

“Fuck,” he growled.

“Heal quickly, my dangerous wolf. You have a lot of work ahead of you. My husband was quite busy in his youth.” She turned on her heel and slithered into the night.

For a long while, Hugh remained on the ground, nursing his ego. The sun had set by the time he finished feeling sorry for himself. Damn, he hated to abandon Charlotte, but he had no choice; her parents were insane. He needed to get away from this place—quickly. Once he considered how to handle this jumble, he would come back for her. He crawled to one knee and then pushed onto his feet.

Why did the exit have to be so far away? Agonizing pain shot through him as he limped through the dark.

He still had a few feet to go when the door opened. A dainty hand clasping a large basket, and a hint of lantern light alerted him that this visitor was a welcome guest. A vision of loveliness. A bearer of gifts. A bright spark in the dark depths of his existence. His Firefly.

Chapter twelve

Since she held alantern in one hand and a basket she borrowed from Cook in the other, Charlotte used her shoulder to gently nudge the door closed. She held her breath until the latch clicked into place. Hopefully, the sound did not wake Hugh if he was resting. Although, if he was asleep, then she could not visit with him. On second thought, maybe she should clang and bang and wake the dead so they could talk. What a conundrum.

What a ninny she was. It was late, and she should not begrudge a recovering man his rest simply so she could spend time in his company.

She moved cautiously, running head-first into a human wall. Squealing, she lifted the lantern. Beautiful blue eyes framed by dark lashes peered down at her. The light revealed that the first three buttons of Hugh’s untucked, rumpled shirt were undone, exposing a beguiling amount of tanned skin andthe shadow of well-formed muscles. Unfortunately, a fresh blood smear ran from his nose to his ear.

“What’s in there?” He inclined his chin toward her basket. “Please tell me ’tis food.”

“Among other things. Who did this to you?”

“I asked first.” He licked his lips. “My lovely little Firefly, you smell utterly divine. Never, ever change your perfume. And do I also smell ham?” He patted his stomach and winced. “Hell’s teeth, I bloody hurt.”

Apparently, the impossible man did not plan to discuss this newest beating. She would feed him first, then wrangle the information from him.

Charlotte rushed to place the lantern and basket on the table and returned to him. Swooping under his arm, she absorbed some of his body weight and helped him to the table. He grimaced and groaned as he lowered himself onto a chair. She removed her gloves and pushed the bowl of leftover water from the previous evening across the table so that it was easily accessible. Finally, she dragged a chair across the floorboards and sat beside him.

Hugh’s gaze intense, he watched as she retrieved soap and clean linen from the basket.