“No, I don’t.”
She was inches away from him now, her finger hovering in the space between them. Her smug gesture irritated him, and he almost grasped her hand, stopping himself just in time. She was close enough that he could smell her and feel her heat. Touch her now, the chorus of bells clanging in his head warned, and you won’t be able to stop.
He stepped back. “You’re jumping to conclusions. As usual.”
“And you’re being stubborn. As usual. All the evidence is on my side.”
He snorted. “Hardly. There’s no reason to believe that your brother’s friends are telling the truth.”
She put her hands on her hips, clearly offended he’d impugned the honor of her brother’s acquaintances. “You have no reason to believe otherwise.”
“Yes, I do.”
“What is it?” she demanded.
The prickle of irritation ballooned. Who was she to question him? Demand answers? Answers, he had to admit, he didn’t have yet. But he had a bad feeling . . .
“It’s not your concern, Lucia,” he said.
“Oh!” She fisted her hands at her sides. “You are the most annoying man! And what’s worse, we’re wasting time. You—”
“I agree, darling.”
Lucia jumped at the silky voice behind her, and Alex tensed for a fight.
Dandridge stepped into the light. “We are wasting time. We are wasting our time talking to Lord Selbourne, especially when his carriage is waiting.”
Dandridge stood at Lucia’s side, and she shrank back slightly. Alex could see on her face that her thoughts were racing, see her struggling for excuses and explanations.
“And you, Selbourne,” Dandridge said. “Dare I ask why you’ve lured my fiancée out here alone? No, sir, your reputation precedes you.”
What tortures I must bear. The words from the song came unbidden to his mind.
“Go inside, Lucia.” Alex’s voice was quiet, but the order was undeniable. It was time he was rid of both Lucia and her fool of a fiancé. Once and for all.
Pieta`.
“Do you think to protect her from me, Selbourne?” Dandridge said, laughing. Alex didn’t respond. Instead he crossed his arms and jammed one shoulder against the wall of the house. Casual. Unconcerned. He was going to walk away from this. He was going to ignore the tension in his body—the combination of arousal for Lucia and anger at himself for allowing things to go so far.
“Or perhaps you forget that I am Miss Dashing’s fiancé? No.” Dandridge turned to Lucia, face red with rage. “Perhaps there is more to this. Something you don’t want me to know.”
Lucia made a strangled sound. “Reginald, no.” She jumped forward and gripped Dandridge’s sleeve. “Please don’t insinuate—”
“I’m not insinuating, my dear. I’m accusing.” He glared at Alex.
“Go inside, Lucia.” Alex’s tone hardened, but he kept his features impassive. Once she was safe, he could walk away.
She shook her head, stepping between the two men. “Alex—”
“Alex?” Dandridge shrieked. “How touchingly familiar. Why, you little bitch!” He grabbed her arm, shoving her roughly against the wall of the house. “All this time putting me off and playing the trollop with Selbourne.”
Every ounce of control in Alex snapped when he heard her cry of pain and fear. With a roar, he seized Dandridge’s shoulder, spun him around, and smashed a fist into the man’s face. Dandridge flew backward, his head hitting the ground with a hollow thud. The battle howl of fury in his ears, Alex tore into Dandridge. Reaching down and grasping the other man by the tailcoat, he pulled him to his knees. Again and again, Alex pummeled his fists into Dandridge’s face, no longer seeing him as a man, but as an outlet for exorcising all his frustrations with Wentworth for not allowing him to return to Paris, with the halting search for Dashing, and with his own weakness—his foolishness—for Lucia.
“Alex! No!” Desperate fingers clawed at his sleeve. “Alex, stop!”
His hand paused in mid-air, fist clenched tight.
“No,” Lucia said again, and he glanced at her. Her eyes were wet with tears. Alex looked back at Dandridge, and the viscount swayed, then moaned. Alex tightened his grip. One more blow . . .
