Page 67 of The Pirate Takes A Bride

The butler led Nick up the stairs and to a door at the top. The drawing room, of course. If he was being led to the drawing room, he was obviously welcome. An unwelcome guest might be asked to wait in the parlor downstairs. The butler reached the door to the drawing room first, opened it, and nodded inside. He made no announcement, and Nick assumed the room was empty.

That was his first mistake. He strode into the room, and the butler said, “Lord Nicholas Martingale!” He shut the door behind Nick, who immediately wished he could turn and run. It had been a trap—a bloody trap—and he’d walked right into it.

Six men rose to their feet, and all of them towered over Nick. He recognized one or two from nights about Town, and of course he knew Sir Gareth and the older two Brittanys.

The men advanced, and Nick held up his hands. “Good afternoon, gentleman. If I’m interrupting, I’d be happy to wait in the parlor.”

“You,” Sir Gareth said. He looked very much like Nick remembered him from their last meeting. He had a shock of white hair, a red complexion, and a shuffling gait. “I remember you.”

Nick could well believe it. The last time he’d seen Sir Gareth, he’d tackled the old man and wrested his pistol away. Well, the pistol had skidded away, which was almost the same thing. “Good to see you again, Sir Gareth.”

“You have some nerve showing up here, after you eloped with my daughter to Gretna Green.”

So she had told them she was married. “It was actually my brother who eloped. I was a victim of circumstance.”

“You tackled me,” the man said coming closer.

Nick shrugged. “You had a pistol aimed at my brother, and as I recall, you managed to get in a punch or two.” His jaw had ached for two days.

Sir Gareth’s face broke into a wide grin that reminded Nick of Ashley’s. “Yes, I did, didn’t I? Laid you flat.”

Nick smiled. It was all going to be fine. “My jaw still hurts,” he said, exaggerating slightly.

The men all laughed again. Nick laughed too. Where the devil was Ashley? Suddenly, the laughter stopped and Sir Gareth poked Nick in the chest. “That’s not all that’s going to hurt. You made my little girl cry.”

“Me?” Nick put a hand over his heart. “No, sir.”

“Yes, you did,” one of the brothers said. Nick thought it was Thomas, but who could tell with all of them speaking at once. Not to mention, they all looked the same—of a similar gigantic height, blond hair, and blue or green eyes. If it had been Thomas who’d spoken, the last time they’d met, Nick had bloodied his nose and broken his finger.

“I assure you, Mr. Brittany, it was quite unintentional. I did not come looking for another fight.”

“You better have come to make it right, Lord Nicholas,” another brother said.

“That is precisely why I’m here,” Nick said. “And call me Nick. We’re brothers now, right, Charles?”

“I’m Thomas,” he said. “That’s Charles.”

Ah, right. So many Brittanys all in one place had confused him. But he’d never been adept at telling them apart. Now he noted Charles was the second eldest, and he wore a brown coat while Thomas wore a green.

“You will never be my brother,” another of them said. He wore a blue coat.

“That’s William,” Charles said. “Not that it matters because he’s right. You aren’t fit to be our brother. No one makes Ashley cry. No one.”

“Very true,” Nick said. “Are you certain it was not merely something in her eye?”

“I’ll give you something in your eye!” one of the younger brothers said. He was not wearing a coat at all.

“Now, Devlin,” Sir Gareth said. “You cannot hit him.”

“Thank you,” Nick said with a sigh of relief. Where the devil was Ashley?

“George won first crack at him. He drew the short straw fair and square.”

“What?” Nick said, but he barely spoke the word before stars exploded. Sir Gareth’s fist had connected with his jaw. Nick stumbled back, caught himself on a table by the door, and shook his head. He held up a hand. “Fine. Perhaps I deserved that.”

“That and more!” Devlin said. “It’s George’s turn next and then mine.”

“George?” Who the bloody hell was George? But George must have been the brother in the gray coat because he was advancing, fists held high. Nick had not seen the first punch coming, but he was not going to be taken off guard a second time. He feinted left and just as Thomas and Charles tried to grab him, he went right, ducking under Devlin’s arm and stumbling into the middle of the drawing room.

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