Page 36 of The Earl and the Reluctant Lady
Chapter Ten
Fletcher watched the scene before him unfold as if everything else around him had ceased to exist. As if time had stopped and the only movement was Lord Brindell standing entirely too close to Agnes as he whispered something in her ear. Her entire body stiffened and her jaw set.
This was one of those moments she’d told him about. Lord Brindell, a youngish and very married man, who stood in Parliament and pled for the rights of the downtrodden and less fortunate. And here he was whispering lewd suggestions into a virtuous woman’s ear. Anger surged through Fletcher’s entire body, filling all of his limbs with restless energy. He pushed himself off the wall, where he’d been perusing the ballroom, and he made his way to Agnes’s side.
“Miss Watkins,” he said loudly as he approached. “I forgot to ask you something earlier when we spoke.”
The relief washing over her face told him everything he needed to know. Still he wanted to hear it from her lips.
Lord Brindell disappeared into the crowd without a backward glance.
Fletcher put his hand on Agnes’s arm, lifted her dance card as if to examine it, but instead pressed his fingers to the pulse above her gloves. “Agnes, what did he say to you?”
She swallowed visibly and then closed her eyes briefly. When she reopened them, her startling blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears. But she physically steeled herself, tilting her chin up ever so slightly.
“He said that he wanted to be the first man in London to have both a mother and a daughter warm his bed.” Her tone was even, though she kept her voice down so she would not be overheard.
Fletcher clenched his left fist, but with his right hand, he smoothed his fingertips across her skin. “I shall take care of this situation. You can rest assured that Lord Brindell will not bother you in the future.”
“Fletcher.” She shook her head. “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger.”
“You let me worry about that.” He swore. “I wish I could gather you in my arms right now.” He met her gaze and stared intently at her, wanting to promise that he’d always take care of her. That he’d keep her safe and protected. That she would be his and only his. But he could make no such guarantees. So instead he merely nodded, then walked away.
It took him less than half an hour to find Lord Brindell. He cornered the man in the billiards room and dismissed everyone else so they could talk in private. Though Brindell was shorter than Fletcher, he had a similar athletic build.
“What is this about, Wakefield?” Brindell asked with a growl. “I had a wager going on that game.”
Fletcher ignored the question and instead reached over, grabbed the man, and slammed him facedown onto the billiard table. He picked up one of the balls and tapped it loudly on the tabletop next to Brindell’s head.
“If you ever approach Miss Watkins again, I will kill you. I don’t want you to look at her. I don’t want you to speak to her. I don’t want you to even breathe the same air as her. Am I understood?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His words came out tight as his face pressed against the tabletop.
“Do not test me, Brindell. I could kill you in six different ways with just my right hand.” That might have been a slight exaggeration, but he did know at least three. “I know you propositioned her. I know you’re not the only one. You are a poor excuse for a gentleman, who erroneously assumes that the dalliances of an older, married woman has given you permission to solicit favors from her virginal daughter. You are despicable. I’m certain that were Lady Brindell to hear of your offer she would have plenty to say about it.” He pulled the man’s arm back in an angle that wouldn’t break it but would cause plenty of pain.
Brindell moaned in agony. “You’re right, I did. I’m sorry, I won’t speak to her again.”
Anger surged through Fletcher and he pressed the man’s face harder into the felt of the table. “You be certain of that. And I’d appreciate it if you’d pass this along to your friends who have made similar offers to Miss Watkins. She is not interested. From now on, I’ll be the one handling the situation. Are you understanding me?”
Brindell nodded as best he could with his face held captive between Fletcher’s hand and the hard wood.
“Excellent.” Fletcher released him. “Have a wonderful rest of your evening.” As Fletcher exited the room, he nodded to the other men waiting outside. “Enjoy your games, gentlemen.”
He had no sooner found his way back into the corridor that he ran directly into a soft female form.
“My apologies, my lady,” he said. Then he realized whom he’d run into. “Celeste.” Inwardly he swore. “You are looking well.”
She gave him a predatory grin. “You look positively edible tonight, Fletcher. Have you missed me as much as I’ve missed you?”
“With that new husband of yours, certainly you’re not missing any of your old lovers.”
“Not any of them but you. You are the best.” Her voice practically purred as she scraped her nails down the front of his chest. She grabbed the waistband of his trousers.
He stilled her hand. “Celeste,” he said flavoring his tone with warning. “You know I do not dally with married ladies.”
She pouted her lip out. “Yes, and you also told me you were not interested in finding your own wife, yet I see you falling all over yourself with that spinster tonight. If you wanted a wife, Fletcher, you could have had me. I was available for three years after Wallace died.”
“Yes, and we had our fun. Now you are married to someone else. Go home and let him pleasure you.”
