Page 75 of Three Weeks with a Princess
“Prudhoe, empty your pocket,” Jack said as Sinclair wrapped his domino around Amy and then helped her to her feet.
“Pardon?” the baronet said.
Jack gave him a lethal stare and held out his hand.
Grumbling, Prudhoe extracted a small leather purse and handed it over. Jack took out several pound notes before tossing the purse at Prudhoe’s feet, eliciting a string of vile curses.
“Make sure you get her a surgeon,” he said to Sinclair as he pressed the notes into Amy’s hand.
“Thank you, sir, for everything,” Amy whispered, giving him a trembling smile.
“I’ll come see you tomorrow,” Lia said to the girl. “We’ll talk about what to tell my mother.”
Amy cast her a grateful smile before she limped out, with Sinclair carefully supporting her. Miss Carson dropped a curtsy to Jack, shot a scowl at Prudhoe, and hurried after them.
“Have we addressed everything to your satisfaction, Lord Lendale?” Prudhoe asked sarcastically. “Might I now be released from one of the most dreary episodes of my life?”
“You be quiet, you awful man,” Lia snapped. “And, no, we’re not done with you.”
Swallowing a curse, Jack took her by the arm and steered her to the fountain, plopping her down on the edge. “For God’s sake, please just sit for a moment and allow me to deal with this.”
Her chin went up at a mulish tilt. After a moment she rolled her eyes and waved a hand as if to sayget on with it. He’d seen that disgruntled expression a thousand times when they were young, whenever he’d tried to safeguard her from some little adventure he thought too risky for her. Under other circumstances, he might have been tempted to laugh at seeing it again.
“You’ve got your work cut out with that one,” Prudhoe said. “But you could always let Sinclair take on the job if you don’t want it.”
Jack crowded him, almost stepping on his toes. “Another comment like that and I’ll throttle you on the spot, and no one would give a damn if I did. Now, shut your bloody mouth and listen carefully.”
Hatred sparked in the man’s gaze, but he retreated a few steps and nodded sullenly.
“You are not to breathe a word about Miss Kincaid’s presence here,” Jack said. “As far as you’re concerned, you have no knowledge of the identity of Miss Baxter’s friends. Are we clear on that point?”
The baronet affected a careless shrug.
“Not good enough,” Jack said. “I want your sworn word.”
“Ha,” Lia said. “As if anyone could trusthisword.”
“What would a stupid whore know about a gentleman’s word?” Prudhoe shot back.
Jack grabbed the man’s throat and slammed him onto an enormous stoneware pot holding an orange tree. When the baronet thrashed, Jack simply leaned into him and shoved the bastard’s face against the bark of the trunk.
“Don’t ever speak to Lia Kincaid again,” he gritted out. “In fact, don’t even look at her. If I ever hear that you’ve troubled her by so much as a glance, Iwilldestroy you.”
Prudhoe started to go purple as he struggled, clawing ineffectually at Jack’s hand around his throat.
“Do I have your word that you willnevermention Miss Kincaid’s presence here tonight?”
“I don’t think he can answer,” Lia piped up from her perch on the fountain. “What with you strangling him, as it were.”
“I suppose you have a point.” He loosened his grip to let the baronet draw in some air. “Do I have your word?”
“Yes, damn you,” Prudhoe managed in a gasping voice.
When Jack released him, the baronet stumbled, clutching at the rim of the pot to keep his feet under him.
“You filthy scum,” he spat out as he tugged frantically to loosen his cravat. He’d flushed crimson and sweat poured down his face. “Have a care, Lendale. You’re not as powerful as you think you are. Your bloody pockets are to let, from what I hear.”
“You hear wrong. And you forget that Miss Kincaid also enjoys the protection of the Duke of Leverton and Sir Dominic Hunter, an exceedingly influential magistrate. He’d be most distressed to hear of these events. He might well want to take some sort of action on Miss Baxter’s behalf were I to explain matters to him.”
