Page 17 of Never Kiss a Scot
“If you ever touch my sister again,” Ashton shouted between each punch, “I’ll bloody kill you!”
“Brock!” Joanna called his name, wanting him to defend himself, to fight back a little.
“Quiet, Joanna!” Ashton commanded, and she flinched. He’d never spoken to her like that before, with his tone so full of disappointment and annoyance.
“You willna not speak to her like that,” Brock growled and threw a single punch to Ashton’s stomach. It caught Ashton by surprise, and he stumbled back, sucking in pained breaths.
Joanna leapt forward to throw herself in front of Brock as Ashton tried to rally. Her brother skidded to a stop, his fist glancing off her cheek as he tried desperately to pull his punch back, but it was too late. He clipped Joanna, and she cried out in pain. Brock moved fast, lifting her gently into his arms and carrying her to a soft chair. She appreciated his gentleness more than she could say. The fall on the floor had left her shaken and bruised.
Brock stroked her cheek. “Does it hurt, lass?”
“Not much,” she said, feeling oddly shy now that her brother was watching them.
Ashton walked over, his steps slow, cautious, his face pale.
“Joanna, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He scraped a hand over his jaw as he knelt by her. Brock never took his eyes off her as he stayed protectively close. He grasped one of her hands in his and didn’t let go.
“Should we call the doctor?” Charles asked her as he hovered close by.
Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment. “I’m fine. Truly.” She squeezed Brock’s hand, and their gazes locked. She’d been having such a wonderful time with him until her brother had ruined everything. “Ashton, please go.” She glanced toward her brother.
His worried expression turned to disapproval. “Joanna, I’m not going to leave you alone with him. You were just”
“Just what? If you say he compromised me, then think carefully about the consequences. Besides,youwere the one who struck me.” It was the first time she’d spoken so forcefully to her brother. She knew he hadn’t meant to hit her, but she needed him to understand that only one man in this room had truly tried to protect her, and it wasn’t Ashton.
Her brother’s brow furrowed. “If I go, he goes as well. I’m not leaving him alone with you. That’s final.” Ashton’s response was hard edged, and Joanna sensed she wouldn’t win that battle. She squeezed Brock’s hand again and gave him a small nod to let him know she was fine to be left alone.
“Come, Kincade. I’ll see you out. I think it is best you go home today.”
Brock rose, his gaze still on Joanna’s face. “And the wedding?”
For a second Joanna thought he was speaking about her.
The two men stared at each other for a long moment, still breathing hard. Then Ashton’s gaze softened.
“You’ll still be there tomorrow to walk Rosalind down the aisle,” Ashton conceded.
Brock nodded once at Ashton, and the two men left the library without a backward glance. Charles remained, his lips twitching.
“So, you and the Scot, eh?” He whistled softly, his gray eyes glinting.
Joanna stood from her chair, her hip twinging. “Yes…I mean no… No, I don’t know.”
“Jo, he had his hand up your skirts,” Charles said more seriously.
She blushed again. It had been ages since Charles had called her Jo. She’d once believed herself in love with him, years ago, before she’d come to understand that loving Charles was like loving a distant god. He would never open his heart to any woman. Once she’d realized that, she let her girlish fantasies about him fade. But she was still mortified that he and Ashton had caught her kissing Brock.
“I don’t have many options, Charles,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the books that had fallen to the floor. She bent to pick up one, sighing at the way the pages were bent. She had not missed that Brock had done his best to catch the books, taking a few blows from her brother in the process.
Charles joined her, collecting a pair of books that had toppled on each other like wounded birds. “Of course you do.”
“Do not try to spare my feelings, Charles. I know the truth. Ashton tried to find me a match. There is not a man in England who would offer for me. I don’t understand why.” She couldn’t help the pathetic, forlorn tone to her voice, but after everything that had happened, she was ready to break down and cry. Or perhaps smash every bloody teacup in the house. But neither of those things would make her feel better.
“So you take up with the Scot instead?” Charles’s lips twitched. “Wonderful way to drive your brother mad with worry.”
Joanna blew out a frustrated breath. “I haven’ttaken upwith him.” He had proposed, offhandedly, it was true. But that wasn’t atrueproposal, not to her.
“Hmm…you may not have taken up with him then, but I do believe you aretaken withhim.”
