Page 73 of Three Weeks with a Princess
Lia pulled out of Jack’s loose embrace to crouch beside her friend, gently brushing the girl’s hair away from her bruised face as she murmured a soothing endearment. Old memories flooded through his brain, catching him off guard. Kindness and compassion were Lia’s greatest gifts, always freely given. When he thought of the love and generosity she’d shown him over the years, his heart ached with something perilously close to regret.
“Dearest, he beat you. He should be punished,” Lia said in a low, urgent voice.
“You’d be wise to listen to Amy, Miss Kincaid,” Prudhoe said. “Gossip can be such a nasty thing, don’t you know?” He glanced at Jack, a sly smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “I’m sure you agree, Lendale.”
Jack’s fists balled up with an urgent need to rearrange the coward’s features, both for what Prudhoe had done and because his assessment was unfortunately correct.
“I don’t care about that,” Lia said, throwing Prudhoe a contemptuous glance. “You shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this.” She looked up at Jack. “Isn’t that right?”
He tried not to wince. “Lia, I would like nothing better than to haul Prudhoe down to Bow Street, but that might not be the best choice for either Miss Baxter or you.”
She slowly rose to her feet, although she kept a hand on Amy’s shoulder. “What are you talking about? Sir Nathan beat her terribly. No one should be allowed to get away with that.”
The pleading look in her eyes begged him to agree and he wished like hell he could. Just thinking about what Prudhoe had done to Amy and what he might have done to Lia made Jack’s blood boil. And yet there was very little he could do about it, at least at the moment.
He had his own ideas about how to punish the baronet, but it would take time and discretion to put them into effect.
Prudhoe lifted a mocking eyebrow and then extracted a snuffbox from his waistcoat and flipped it open for a pinch. “Lendale, perhaps you could explain to Miss Kincaid why making a fuss would be a bad idea for both her and for you. Or, should I say, for your dear mother and sister. Imagine their distress when the details of this unpleasant event filter back to them.”
“Don’t threaten me, Prudhoe,” Jack said in a hard voice. “I guarantee you won’t enjoy the results.”
The baronet’s hand wavered, causing him to spill snuff down the front of his waistcoat.
Lia helped Amy to get up and sit on the edge of the fountain. “Jack, please do something,” she said in an irritated tone. “We need to get Amy some help.”
Prudhoe flicked the snuff off his waistcoat. “I don’t care what you do, but I’m leaving.”
Jack shot out a hand to stop him. “I’m not done with you.”
The baronet flushed an angry red. “Are you going to challenge me to a duel over a pair of whores? And here I thought you were a sensible man, Lendale.”
“You lout,” Lia snapped, taking a quick step forward and raising her hand as if to slap him. Jack grabbed her by the arm and hauled her back.
“That’s not helping, Lia,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Neither are you,” she said.
They heard a rush of footsteps and Lia’s other companion appeared, closely followed by Sebastian Sinclair.
“Ah, good,” Jack said, “I see you found him, Miss . . .”
“Carson, your lordship.” The young woman plunked down on the edge of the fountain and wrapped a protective arm around Amy’s shoulders.
When Miss Carson came running toward him outside the ballroom, skirts up to her knees and her ridiculous starched collar bouncing in front of her face, Jack had been skating along on the edge of panic. He’d arrived at Welby’s only minutes before, and a quick perusal of the ballroom had not yielded any sign of Lia. Fortunately, the young actress had recognized him from his visits to the theater and hadn’t hesitated. She’d dragged him into a window alcove and blurted out what had happened, telling him she’d been searching for Sinclair to ask for his help.
Surprised that Sinclair was aware of Lia’s presence at the ball—something he intended to get to the bottom of—he’d sent Miss Carson off to find the man. Jack didn’t know what role Sinclair was playing in tonight’s events, but he was relatively sure he could count on him to lend a helping hand, if necessary, and keep his mouth shut about Lia.
Sinclair wore a rather stunned expression, but it quickly transformed into one of fury when he took in Amy’s bruised face. “What the hell is going on here?”
Prudhoe heaved a dramatic sigh. “Really, why don’t we just invite the entire party in to witness our little farce? I’m sure the guests would be vastly amused.”
“Another word out of you and I’ll kill you myself,” Jack said. “And since I’m more soldier than gentleman, be assured that I’ll not bother with the absurd formalities of a duel.”
The baronet’s gaze flared with rage, but he was smart enough not to give voice to thought.
Sinclair bent down to inspect Amy’s face. “Sir Nathan did this?”
The girl nodded miserably. “But I don’t want any trouble, sir. Please.”
