Page 41 of Dare to Risk it All

“I’m going,” he said, his face rigid with the effort of holding his temper in check. The desire to teach this crass bastard a lesson was hard to deny, but he could not cause a scandal. Rothborn would never forgive him. If Greer was involved, he’d never be able to forgive himself. “But the young lady is coming with me.”

He took a firm hold of Greer’s arm and began steering her away.

“Oh, no you don’t.”

The three men crossed the room, blocking the only exit.

Raphe’s heart beat in his throat. He badly wanted to thrash them. That it was three upon one barely registered. The desire for a good mill was a thrum of excitement in his blood, calling to the worst part of his nature, the one he’d not bothered to deny until recently. Greer was with him, though, and he could not have her hurt or embarrassed.

“Let her go, and I’ll give you the fight you want,” he offered, seeing no other way out of this now. All he could do was keep Greer safe.

The bastard Plumpton shook his head. “Oh no. I think we’ll have our little tussle and the girl. I’ll need someone to kiss me better, won’t I? Are you going to give me a little bruise? I don’t reckon you’ve got it in you. Reckon you’re a coward like your father.”

Raphe didn’t flinch. The words made him as wild as they always did, but he’d learned to school his face into an impassive mask a long time ago. He’d fought too many times on his father’s account to allow anyone to know the words still hurt him. Before he could reply, however, Greer flew past him and landed Plummy such a facer that he fell on his arse. His friends roared with laughter.

Greer yelped and cradled her hand against her chest but remained undaunted, glaring down at the man she’d just felled with a punch.

“The baron is ten times the man you’ll ever be, you vile creature,” she said in disgust.

Raphe leapt forward, pulling her away as Plummy scrambled to his feet, wild-eyed. His nose was bleeding, but Raphe understood it had been the shock of the attack that had taken him unawares and he was far from badly damaged, only drunk, furious and humiliated by a girl. A volatile combination.

“Give her to me,” Plummy growled, murder in his eyes.

Raphe shook his head, knowing he’d die before he let any of these men lay a finger on Greer.

“Raphe,” she muttered, clinging to his arm.

“It’s all right, love,” he whispered, hoping he sounded reassuring, for he knew he was in for a thorough beating. “Let me handle this. As soon as you can, run.”

“But—”

“Promise me,” he said urgently.

He dared take his gaze from Plummy for a moment to look at her. Her eyes were wide behind the spectacles, full of fear. He never wanted to see her look afraid like that again. She nodded. Raphe let out a sigh of relief and turned back, and not a second too soon as Plummy charged at him like an enraged bull.

The impact stole Raphe’s breath and the two of them crashed into one of the laden tables. Being made of sturdy English oak, it threatened to break Raphe’s back before it splintered, and they went sailing over the top and off the other side as food and cutlery crashed to the floor with them.

He heard Greer scream and struggled to get to her, but Plummy was a big, sturdy brute and took all his attention. Panicked by what was happening to Greer, Raphe experienced a surge of such rage he could not remember what happened next. All he knew was that the next moment Plummy was out cold, laying in a crumpled heap on the floor and he vaulted over the table to deal with the other two. He blinked, a little astonished to see one man doubled over and clutching his privates, his face contorted into a silent scream of agony. The other was staring at Raphe and Greer with the pugnacious determination of an angry drunk.

“Go!” Raphe pushed Greer towards the door.

“But—” she began, staring at the man circling him.

“Please,” Raphe begged. “You can’t be here. Go!”

That she did not want to leave him was obvious and made his heart swell with tenderness, but he was too terrified for her to let her stay. The next time, he bellowed at her.

“Go, for the love of God!”

She ran.

With a sigh of relief, Raphe turned his attention back to the brute wanting his blood.

By the time Greer found Lord Bainbridge, she was breathless and scared out of her wits. The big devil circling Raphe did not appear to be the brightest spark and had been the slowest to anger, but seeing his two friends lying on the floor had stirred him well enough. He’d appeared to want to remove Raphe’s head from his shoulders and his meaty hands and huge shoulders had looked well suited to the task. Greer knew Raphe was no stranger to brawling, but this would cause the most awful scandal if they couldn’t hush it up, for it was not on a street outside a tavern but in a respectable home, and a ball attended by the cream of the aristocracy. Lord Plumpton’s mother would have a fit if she discovered her darling boy knocked out cold, and they’d never hear the end of it.

Oh, this was all her fault. Raphe would be in trouble again and Rothborn would be angry with him, and if she’d not been so stupid as to complete her dare tonight in a fit of pique, it would never have happened.

“Bainbridge!” She almost ran into him, her shoes slipping on the polished marble floor as she halted her mad scramble through the ballroom.