Page 83 of The Viscount's Silent Pugilist

“When she denied it, he strangled her. I was hiding in the wardrobe, so I saw the entire thing. I think my father knows I saw him. He is horrible and evil and abusive. He gave me to Lord Kilsby, to pay a debt, which isn’t a much better fate than murdering me. I think he wants to kill me. I can see it in his eyes. I suppose that is why I lost my voice. I knew that if I talked, the truth would slip out. But then I met you, and now I’m not as afraid.” She closed her eyes. “Obviously.” Her lids lifted, and she sighed. “But I still didn’t mean for it to come out of me tonight. You must have relaxed me too much.”

Dear God, he’d kill the bloody monster. But this was not the time for him to have a tantrum; she needed his compassion. He shoved his roaring anger deep.

“You are safe now, Genevieve,” he said. “He can’t hurt you. Hewon’thurt you.”

She sniffled. “I have two siblings who live at Thorn Manor. Christopher is eighteen and Sophia is eleven. Instead of going with Lord Kilsby, I ran away. I left them with our father, who also murdered my stepmother. And all so that I could save myself.”

Ah.The mysterious Christopher was her brother. Jonathan had been a jealous fool. Meanwhile, fear and guilt were eating Gen alive.

“Is this why you are desperate to earn money?” he asked.

“Yes. I thought that if I could afford a room in the city, I could steal them from Thorn Manor and protect them.”

“Then you didn’t leave them to save yourself,” he said, his lips cupping her ear. “You fought back in the only way you could. Using your athletic gifts.”

The faraway look in her eyes focused on him. “You don’t think I abandoned them?”

“No. I think you saved yourself so that you could eventually protect them. Hell, Gen, you survived life on the streets. You defy society by being a woman—an aristocratic woman—who competes in athletics. You are entering a boxing ring with an athlete who is larger and has more experience, all while intending to rescue them.”

She nodded. “Of course, we would have to live as a working-class orphaned family until my father dies.”

The hell she did. “No, you don’t.”

She rolled to face him, tears glistening in her eyes.

Using his thumbs, he dried her tears. “Marry me, Genevieve Bailey. Once you are my wife, he cannot force you to be with Kilsby. Together, we will rescue your siblings. Hell, before you are my wife, we will confront him. We will leave here the day after your mill and retrieve them.”

Gen’s eyes widened. “He will never let them go. Not because he loves any of us, but because he is the devil. He will accuse you of kidnapping Sophia.”

“Then we will sneak them out of the house. I have the way and means to hide them away and ensure he never sees them again. Once he dies, your brother can come out from hiding and then take back Thorn Manor.”

Grasping his hand, she kissed a knuckle. “You would do this for me? For my siblings?”

“A million times over.” If only she had asked earlier. Arthur Bailey did not stand a chance against him. He was Viscount Jonathan Davenport, after all. Handsome, intelligent, kind, generous, and wily, according to the woman he loved. But more importantly, he was loyal and ruthless. No one, especially not some piece of shite disgraced, untitled murderer, was going to hurt someone he loved.

“We have your mill on the morrow. We will head to Thorn Manor the day after. I am sure Griffendale will give the Wentworths and Franny a ride back to London. I promise you, your father will never hurt you again.”

“There is a maid,” Genevieve said. “She is younger than I am, and so sweet. She quakes every time he is near. I cannot fathom the torturous things he puts her through.”

The bloody blighter!“I will ensure her safety, too.” He had no idea how, but he would figure out a way.

“And our cook. She was our only friend.”

“Done, Gen. Everyone you want to protect. Anything you need. Forever and ever.” He pecked her cheek. “Now, get some sleep. You are safe.”

And she was. Completely and utterly because he would see to it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Soon after revealingher secret, the unbearable weight on Genevieve’s shoulders lightened and the invisible rope around her neck loosened. She’d said the truth out loud and the world had continued spinning. Currently, she wasn’t even nervous about her fight. Soon, she would be holding Christopher and Sophia in her arms. And in the near future, she would be a countess, married to the most wonderful man in the world. Today was a new dawn with a fresh start.

Last evening, after she had finally fallen asleep, she’d had the most peaceful rest that she could recall while warm and safe in Jonathan’s arms. When she’d awakened, he’d still been slumbering, so she’d kissed his cheek. Since he had seen to her massage last night, she let him sleep in. She stole to her room, the ache between her legs just enough to remind her of their lovemaking, but not enough to keep her from striding quickly.

First, she’d walked Horatio around the grounds. Afterward, she’d dressed in a long, white tunic andhakamatrousers that a woman named Lady Paulsgrove had gifted Josie.

“Lady P wears them to fight and had one made for me,” Josie told Genevieve at her last training session. “’Tis easy to move in. Since I’m not currently fighting, you can wear it. I’d love to see it put to good use.” She’d shrugged. “I suppose it is meant to be, since the fabric is as white as a ghost.”

Genevieve had graciously accepted the kimono-like garments. The luxurious ensemble was much less scandalousthan showing her chemise or wearing men’s clothing. Not that she begrudged the other ladies their choices of fighting attire. But her preference was for the same silky, light outfits Lady Paulsgrove wore.