Page 51 of Earl Crazy
Wyle turned.
“This isn’t over.”
Wyle didn’t reply, but slunk through the gap in the hedge, and disappeared into the darkness.
Kit waited until he was sure Wyle was gone before rushing to Tilly.
Harriett had collapsed in a heap in the drive, having nearly sobbed herself into a swoon. Lucius had curled up in her lap, and she was stroking him, and listening to Tilly, who was murmuring to her.
“Shh, Harriett. It’s alright, dearest. He’s gone, and you’re safe now.”
“Tilly.” Kit’s voice was hoarse.
She whirled toward him. “Kit.” She gazed at him for a moment, then without any hesitation she ran across the drive, and threw herself into his arms. “Thank God you came.”
He closed his arms around her, and pulled her tightly against him. “I’ll always come for you, Tilly. Always.”
“I—I don’t understand it, Kit. Why did he…how could he have done this?” She shook her head, the tears she’d held back during the ordeal filling her eyes.
He eased her face down to his chest and held her as she wept quietly, her tears dampening the front of his shirt. He would have kept her there all night, safe in his arms, but Tilly being the fierce lady she was, she recovered quickly. She pulled back a little so she could look up at him, and a distressed cry left her lips. “You’re bleeding!”
He glanced down at his arm, where the blood was still oozing from the gash Wyle had given him. “It will heal.”
“But your face!” She reached up to stroke his cheek, a tear slipping free. “Did he catch you with the tip of the crop?”
“No, the hedge did that.” He smiled down at her. “Why does Lady Fosberry permit such dangerous shrubbery on her grounds?”
Despite everything she’d been through tonight, the smile he’d come to adore blossomed on her lips. “I can’t imagine. We’ll have to have a word with her, won’t we?”
Behind them, the kitchen door flew open, and a chorus of shouts could be heard coming from the house. “Ah. The servants are coming.”
He should have let her go then—if she was seen in his arms, the tongues would start wagging—but he couldn’t bear to let her go yet, and perhaps she felt the same, because she made no move to get free. They simply stood there together, and waited for the servants to arrive.
But the first person to reach them wasn’t one of Lady Fosberry’s servants.
It was Lord Fairmont.
ChapterFifteen
“Under the circumstances, I think we can dispense with the tea.” Lady Fosberry strode directly from the drawing room door to the sideboard. She plucked up a bottle of sherry, then set it aside with a shake of her head, and snatched up a bottle of brandy, instead. “Tumblers, if you would, Watkins. Hurry, man.”
The tension in the room was so thick Tilly could almost see it, swirling between them all like a poisonous fog, but Lord Fairmont had enough self-control to wait until Watkins left the drawing room before he exploded. “What the devil happened out there tonight, Prestwick?”
He was a handsome man, with dark hair and fine, classical features very much like Harriett’s, but he would have been a great deal more handsome if his blue eyes hadn’t been narrowed to slits, and his lips twisted into a fearsome frown.
One could hardly blame him, however, given the pitiful state Harriett had been in when he found her. The shock of Lord Wyle’s attack, and the unexpected appearance of her brother after a six years absence had entirely overset her. She’d fallen into deep, gulping sobs that sounded as if they’d been torn from her very soul, and had to be dosed with laudanum, and taken directly to bed.
“Nothing to say, Prestwick? Very well, then I’ll tell you what it looked like to me.” Lord Fairmont had been pacing from one end of the drawing room to the other, but now he stopped in front of Kit, his eyes blazing with fury.
Why was he angry at Kit? He couldn’t possibly think that—
“It looks as ifyou, a known rake and seducer, were attempting to abscond with my sister tonight!”
“James!” Lady Fosberry gasped.
“No!” Tilly cried at the same time, leaping to her feet. “You’re mistaken, Lord Fairmont! That’s not what happened—”
“Sitdown, Tilly,” Phee snapped. She grabbed Tilly’s hand and gave it a sharp tug.
