Page 46 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
“’E ran into a door,” one of his cohorts said.
“I see. When was this?”
They all shrugged, suddenly taking intense interest in a thumbnail, a frayed cuff, a knothole in the wood grain of the table, an ear that was apparently itching.
“A few nights ago, I’d wager.”
Charlie glared at her. The fact he couldn’t move his mouth into a threatening sneer made his glower ineffectual, although she was angry enough she wouldn’t have paid it any heed anyway. “Where’s the pocket watch?”
“Dunno wot yer talkin’ ’bout.” Although still mumbled, the words were a bit clearer, as though he felt a need to ensure she understood them.
“I think you do. I checked with Petey. You didn’t take it to him, so which fence did you take it to?”
His eyes went a bit wild, a good bit of the white visible. Suddenly he shoved back his chair; his mates scrambled to get out as well. The daft idiots were not getting away.
She launched herself at their leader.
Thorne strode into the tavern in time to see the melee break out, to watch in horrified fascination as Gillie propelled herself through the air like a mermaid being expelled by a gigantic wave from the sea and landed on some poor bloke, carrying him down to the floor. Suddenly fists were flying, while the thud of flesh hitting flesh, the crash of glassware, the ping of pewter, the clattering of chairs and tables being smashed filled the air. Grunts and yells echoed around him, as he limped hurriedly toward Gillie to offer aid, avoiding one punch after another, shoving one fellow after another aside. He was like a madman in his rush to get to her, as though he alone could save her, as though she was all that mattered.
She was all that mattered.That thought echoed through his mind with an intensity that might have caused him alarm if he wasn’t distracted by other forces.
One small fellow was striving to pull her off the larger one she was wrestling, clinging to him as though she were determined to be his jailor. Another was striking her. He saw every shade of red that existed, felt heated fury and then a cold calm settled over him. He dropped his walking stick, picked up a chair, and swung with enough force it took down the one hitting her and sent his mate scurrying back. Without much thought, he grabbed the fallen man by the scruff of his jacket and lifted him up as though he weighed nothing at all and planted his fist in the center of his face. Cartilage and bone caved in, an ear-piercing screech shuddered through the air. He flung the fool aside and turned back to Gillie.
She was lying on the floor motionless, the man who had been beneath her was scrambling away, while another holding the broken remains of a chair was staring at her as though he realized he’d made a grave error in judgment. Perhaps because a slew of fists were headed in his direction and the man he’d sought to rescue was suddenly struggling to escape from a behemoth’s grasp.
Dropping to his knees, Thorne withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it gently to a gash at the back of Gillie’s head. Her short hair made it easy to see the blood, and his stomach roiled at the sight. As carefully as possible, he rolled her over onto his lap, into his arms. Tenderly he patted her cheek. “Gillie?”
It didn’t make him feel any better that she didn’t so much as bat a lash. He became aware of the arrival of constables, the noise level increasing and then abruptly dimming.
“Did ye kill her?” Robin’s nose very nearly touched his.
“Don’t be absurd.”
A man, who very much resembled the brother he’d met the other night, crouched beside the boy. “Off with you, Robin.”
“But—”
“No buts. She’ll be all right.”
As the lad scampered away, he wondered how the gent could be so sure when he himself had never been more terrified in his life as the thought, “She’s not long for this world,” skittered along his spine, sending chills through his entire person.
“You the duke?” the man asked, as though there were only one. Maybe he was the only one in her life.
“Thorne.”
“Aiden. Her brother. I’ll take her to her rooms.”
“I’ll see to her.” He’d used his ducal tone, which gave fair warning he’d brook no arguments.
Arching a brow, Aiden nodded. “All right. But Beast and I will help.”
He wondered if her brother could tell that his leg was killing him. Beast turned out to be the behemoth who’d been holding the man she’d leaped onto, a man he realized now as a constable marched him out, seemed to have a broken jaw. Were these the louts who’d jumped him? Now they’d hurt her. He’d see them hanged.
With help from Aiden and Beast, he managed to get to his feet with her cradled in his arms. For such a tall woman, she wasn’t particularly heavy or perhaps it was simply that he was built for carrying her. It felt right to have her curled against his chest as he ascended the stairs to her lodgings, Aiden in the lead while Beast had gone to fetch a doctor.
Using a key, Aiden opened the door. Thorne pushed through and headed into the bedchamber where he gently laid her on the bed.
“You’ve been in here before.”
