CHAPTER TWENTY
LEVI OVERTON, DUKE OF LENNOX
“It’s no trouble, Miss,” Levi said, ignoring the rapid beat of his heart when the scent of lily of the valley washed over him.
He inclined his head, then grasped Warwick’s arm and forced him around Miss Braddock. Unfortunately, Levi didn’t avert his gaze fast enough, and the soul-crushing expression on her face burned itself into his brain.
“Manners failing you?” Warwick asked, struggling to keep pace with Levi’s gait.
Levi glowered at him. “You promised me an evening of frivolity.”
“Apparently, Miss Braddock came expecting the same outcome.” Warwick shrugged, grinning. “Consider it a fortuitous occurrence.”
Narrowing his eyes, Levi stopped and turned toward Warwick. “You’re not claiming responsibility for this accidental meeting?”
“What resources would I possess to arrange something this complicated?” The grin on his friend’s face widened.
“Coward!” The word echoed behind them.
The remaining patrons milling about outside the theater collectively shifted their attention toward Mr. Braddock, who bore down on Levi with unparalleled fury.
“I caution you to watch your tone with me, Mr. Braddock,” Levi said, turning around and striding forward.
Mr. Braddock swung before Levi registered the movement, his knuckles catching Levi squarely in the jaw. Levi staggered backward, momentarily stunned. Then he raised his arms and strode forward, his hands clenching into fists.
They circled each other.
“I have a grievance to settle with you, Your Grace,” Mr. Braddock said, snapping his left arm out in a quick jab.
Levi sidestepped the punch and countered, hitting Mr. Braddock and causing him to stumble into the street. Blood dripped from Mr. Braddock’s nose, leaving a trail of crimson in the snow. Levi followed.
With a snarl, Mr. Braddock lowered his head and charged, plowing into Levi’s chest and shoving him into one of four columns decorating the exterior of the theater. Grunting, Levi pushed Mr. Braddock backward, then swung, striking Mr. Braddock in the face.
Before Mr. Braddock regained his balance, Levi flung himself forward, tackling Mr. Braddock and knocking him to the street. Hands clenched on each other’s coats, they wrestled, rolling across the ground and covering themselves in frozen muck.
“Stop,” Warwick hissed, stabbing the corner of Levi’s greatcoat and pinning him to the cobblestones.
Neither man relinquished their grip.
“Either you release each other this moment, or I will use my cane to beat you both unconscious.” Warwick snarled, his eyes flashing. “You’ve drawn quite a crowd with your foolishness; the theater must be empty at this point.”
They glanced over at the pavement, then at each other. Mr. Braddock expelled a sheepish chuckle and opened his hands, letting go of Levi, then he rolled away, stood, and brushed the grime from his clothing.
“Our grievance isn’t settled, Your Grace,” Mr. Braddock said once his breathing returned to normal.
Levi rose, shook the snow from his greatcoat, then jerked his head toward a black coach. “Speak with us in private.”
“Us?” Mr. Braddock’s head swiveled between Levi and Warwick.
“Warwick is aware of my point of view and lacks the emotional connection I have to the situation.” Levi nodded at his friend. “He’s impartial.”
“Will His Grace allow me to strike Your Grace if I so desire?” Mr. Braddock asked as they strolled toward the carriage, keeping their pace slow to accommodate Warwick’s limp.
Warwick snorted. “If the situation calls for it, I will not interfere.”
“Thank you for the support,” Levi muttered.
“Impartial was your description.” Warwick jerked open the coach door. “And I’m curious to learn how big of a fool you truly are.”
