Levi’s mouth twitched. “I didn’t want to waste such a beautiful evening as this.”
“Neither did I.” Roxburghe bowed again, took two steps down the hallway, then turned back. “A warning for you since your stroll may end beside Mr. Braddock’s chamber; loud noises can be heard in the room next door.”
He tiptoed down the corridor, stopped at Miss Webb’s chamber, and vanished inside.
Levi waited a beat, then, following Roxburghe’s example, crept across the hallway to Miss Braddock’s chamber. However, he hesitated outside the door, uncertain if opening it without knocking would cause her to scream and quite certain that if he knocked, he’d draw Mr. Braddock’s attention.
Sucking in a breath, he clasped the door handle and depressed it, easing Miss Braddock’s chamber door open and peeping into the room. The door ripped from his hand, and a fist closed around his shirt and yanked him inside.
“Hi,” Miss Braddock whispered, closing the door with a soft click. “I was hoping you’d stop by.”
“Were you?” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Why was that?”
“I promised Ernest that I wouldn’t open the door. However,”—she blushed—“I wanted to finish the conversation we began in the parlor.”
“I think I remember where we left off.” He grinned and bent his head, his mouth brushing over hers as his arms wound around her waist.
She moaned against his lips and pressed her body into his.
Levi lifted her—she wrapped her legs around him without direction—and strode toward the bed. Laying her down, his mouth trailed across her throat, drawing the delightful mewling sound from her.
“Shush,” he murmured, nipping his way to her earlobe. “I don’t want to draw your brother’s attention.”
“Then, you’ll have to stop doing that,” Miss Braddock panted, grinding her hips against his.
The door flew open and slammed into the wall.
Mr. Braddock vibrated in the doorway. “Yes, definitely stop doing that!”
“We’re eng?—”
“I do not care, Eveline!” He stomped into the chamber, grabbed the back of Levi’s shirt, and yanked him off the bed, flinging him across the room. “You may not know better, but he does.”
Turning around, Mr. Braddock raised his fists, then strode toward Levi.
“I don’t want to fight you,” Levi said, sliding to his right.
Mr. Braddock anticipated the move and swung, striking Levi in the jaw and sending him flying backward into the armoire. Hitting the back of his head against the mahogany door, Levi groaned, then slid to the floor, black spots dancing through his vision.
“You don’t need to worry about Mr. Drummond,” Mr. Braddock said, bearing down on him. “I’ll kill you before he even arrives.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EVELINE/HELENA
“Ernest! Stop!” Eveline ran toward him and jumped between her brother and the Duke of Lennox as Ernest swung his arm.
She cringed, twisting her head away and waiting for the explosion of pain that would accompany the collision of Ernest’s fist with her face.
The slap of flesh on flesh echoed through the room, but no agony followed. Eveline peeled her eyes open. Less than an inch from her cheek, Ernest’s hand, enveloped by the Duke of Lennox’s palm, shook.
“H-How did you do that?” she whispered.
Shoving Ernest backward, the Duke of Lennox slid his body in front of Eveline’s and glanced over his shoulder at her. “I swore no one would harm you again… that includes your brother.”
Voices echoed in the hallway. Miss Webb, the Duke of Roxburghe, and a moment later, Miss Fernsby-Webb squeezed through the doorway and burst into the chamber, all of them wearing expressions of shock.
“Who should I strike?” the Duke of Roxburghe asked, his eyes flicking between the Duke of Lennox’s protective position and Ernest’s balled fists.
