Page 120 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
Finally, he landed one final punch, knocking Lord Belgrave out cold. The Earl’s head lolled back on the floor, his heartbeat weak but there.
Spencer spun quickly, his knuckles bruised and his hands undeserving of even going near Eleanor, but he reached for her all the same. She quickly took his wrists, and he saw the defiance flaring in her eyes along with her tears.
She fell into his embrace, shaking, clinging to him.
“I told him you would come,” she whispered.
Spencer’s heart broke as he held her tighter. His wife had never deserved such a fate, but he had saved her. He had gotten to her in time. The thought that he may have failed terrified him.
“I always will,” he promised.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Everdawn House was a flurry of activity as physicians rushed to and fro, checking on the injured servants while the others cleaned up the glass and blood.
Eleanor had still not stopped trembling by the time Spencer ushered her into the townhouse, safe but shaken up badly. As soon as they entered, Lady Montagu was there, her face pale but struck with relief.
“You are all right,” she sighed, pulling Spencer into a hug.
He stiffened as if she had never embraced him before, but he only hesitated for a moment before he embraced her back.
Then, Lady Montagu hugged Eleanor, her tears spilling over. “Heavens, I feared terribly for you. Everything—it was all so scary.”
“There is no more reason for fear,” Spencer told her firmly. “Lord Belgrave and Lord Follet will not be a problem again. Furthermore, Charlotte is officially released from her engagement.”
Eleanor gave him a slow smile, thinking of the embrace she had interrupted hours ago. “Perhaps we ought to tell her the news.”
“She arrived shortly before you did,” Lady Montagu said. “I sent her to the guest chamber, for she was worried about Lord Avington. He is resting up there.”
Spencer paused, frowning, but then led the way upstairs.
Eleanor sped past him and entered the room, right as he pushed open the door.
Charlotte was bent over Theodore, perched on a stool at his bedside, her eyes closed as she kissed him.
At the sound of the door banging open, she reeled backward and scurried away from the bed.
“It—it was nothing!” she shouted. “I was merely… merely…” she trailed off, eyeing her brother warily.
Eleanor watched as Theodore’s expression turned from contentment to horror as he spotted Spencer.
“What are you doing to my sister?” Spencer growled, his fingers gripping the door so hard that she feared he would break it.
“Spencer,” she warned, her eyes tracing his tense jaw, the hard set of his shoulders. “You have already gotten into too many fights today, do not add more.”
For she had already taken note of his injuries, shoving her heartbreak aside to try and see what more he’d sustained on their ride back from the dock.
“Let us be grateful that all is well! Your friend is alive and recovering.”
“He will be recovering from even more injuries in a moment,” Spencer snarled.
Eleanor slipped in front of him, trying to hold him back. He merely growled above her, an untamable beast.Herbeast. But then Charlotte was there, and she threw her arms around Eleanor. Her sobs were soft, her murmurings muffled against Eleanor’s shoulders.
“I am all right,” Eleanor soothed, holding her friend. “We are both all right.” She pulled back, meeting Charlotte’s gaze knowingly. “You are free, Charlotte. Spencer apprehended Lord Belgrave on the ship he had taken me to. Lord Follet is a distant associate, not directly involved. But the constables have him, and they also stormed St. Euphemia’s. The threat is no longer there.”
Her voice cracked with relief, but she was quickly distracted by her husband still scowling from the doorway, his glare fixed on Theodore.
“Th-The physician says I might have a broken rib, but it will heal.” Theodore laughed nervously, knowing he could go nowhere.
