Page 53 of The Dove
In the blink of an eye, he’d closed the distance between them, grasping Bertram’s lapels and shaking him like a rag doll. Then, his fist drew back and landed, crashing into her brother’s face, producing a most satisfying spray of blood. However, that satisfaction did not last long, as Daphne realized Niall did not intend to stop.
Serena screamed, burying her face in Daphne’s skirt as Niall threw Bertram against the fence and began pummeling him. Bertram grunted and groaned, trying without success to free himself from the butler’s ironclad hold on his shirt, unable to dodge the large fist crashing into his face, his ribs, his gut.
Glancing at Adam, she found him looking on in silence, his face expressionless, arms crossed over his chest. She took hold of his arm and shook him, eyes wide with shock as she realized he meant to do nothing.
“Adam, you must stop this!” she insisted.
His gaze swiveled to her, and he narrowed his eyes, his upper lip curling back in a sneer. “You want to save your brother so badly, little dove? Go on, then. Stop him.”
Her hands shook, one of them still on his arm, the other clinging to a shaking, sobbing Serena. “Will you allow him to kill Bertram in front of our niece? My brother is a peer, and Niall will hang if he kills him! You have to stop him!”
Adam’s stone face faltered, as he seemed to realize her concern was not for her brother, but for Niall who could never get away with murdering a peer of the realm no matter the circumstances. Glancing down at Serena, he frowned, then sighed.
“Shite,” he muttered under his breath before moving toward the two men. “Niall, that’s enough!”
The butler seemed beyond hearing him now, crouching on the ground over Bertram’s prone form, hands poised to strangle him. Bertram gurgled as the other man’s large fingers closed around his neck, kicking and flailing.
“Look away, sweetling,” she murmured, ensuring Serena’s face remained buried in her skirts.
“Goddamn it, Niall!” Adam growled, grasping him under his arms and wrenching him away from Bertram with a grunt. “Christ, you’re as heavy as a bag of boulders, you stubborn bastard. I said, getoffhim!”
Adam managed to wrestle Niall away, grunting and muttering curses under his breath as the man bucked and writhed beneath him, growling his rage like a rabid dog.
“Get out of here, before we change our minds and let him loose,” she hissed at Bertram, disgusted by the sight he made, covered in blood and dirt as he struggled to his feet.
He spat upon the path, staining it red, swiping his sleeve over his swollen and bloodied lip. “Three days,” he slurred. “And make it sixty thousand unless you want me to have that cretin prosecuted for attacking me.”
Swiveling on his heel, he stumbled toward the gate and threw it open, disappearing from sight.
“Get the fuck off me, damn you!” Niall growled.
“Only if you promise to go inside and sort yourself out,” Adam said calmly, keeping a knee between Niall’s shoulders. “I won’t have you going off and getting yourself into trouble. Livvie needs you.”
Niall seemed to calm at that reminder and went still with a rough sigh. “I promise.”
“I mean it, Niall,” Adam replied, seeming reluctant to let the man up.
“I said I promise, ye bloody idiot. Now get off!”
Adam stood, and Niall came up onto his knees, sitting back on his haunches with a scowl marring his features. His bruised knuckles were stained with Bertram’s blood, and more of the same splattered the front of his shirt and its cuffs.
Glaring up at Adam, he stood staring off down the path Bertram had just taken, his hands opening and closing in threatening spasms, causing the veins along the backs to bulge and pulsate.
“Well, then,” Niall spat. “What are ye goin’ to do about it, Hart?”
Daphne’s blood ran cold at Adam’s response, a tremor rocking through her as his words fell in her gut like a heavy stone weight.
“I’m going to kill the bastard.”
Adam threw open the door of the chamber he’d been sharing with Daphne, a chunk of wood paneling flying loose and sailing through the air when it hit the wall from the force of his entry. He paced to a sideboard Niall had just stocked that morning and lifted the brandy decanter, tearing out its stopper and pitching it across the room. He did not see where it landed, but heard the tinkle of glass when it shattered. He drank straight from the canister, the burn of the liquor scorching a fiery path from his throat down into his gut. The flames of his anger roared hot, and it was all he could do to keep from tearing the entire chamber apart. The surface of his skin felt too tight, and his heart beat a cadence of bloodlust.
Motion in the doorway drew his gaze to Daphne, who stood in the opening watching him with a grim expression. Her mouth a firm line, hands folded demurely before her, she inclined her head.
“Adam, we must be rational about this,” she said, her voice low but steady.
It was the first thing she’d said to him since his announcement in the courtyard, but they were the words he’d expected to hear. Because, of course, she would try to convince him to be rational about this. She could never understand that he was beyond logic now. His careful plans and war strategies had all crumbled into dust the moment that whoreson had laid eyes on his Serena.
“Rational,” he spat with a sneer. “He’s seen her, Daphne. He knows she’s alive, that I’ve kept her hidden all this time.”
