“Father?” she finally managed to whisper. “What is he saying?”
“Nothing of any importance, as always,” her father said quietly after he managed to swallow back his distress.
“It’s not important then?” Weavington said with a sneer. “Tell that to her face, speak those words to her poor mother!”
“Beatrix, I beg of you to go into the house,” Prince Aaron said, turning to face his daughter and taking her by the arms. “I must have a word with this scoundrel.”
“But what does he speak of? I don’t understand,” she answered, tears pooling along her lower lashes. “He spoke of my mother, of telling her… telling her what? And how? What does he mean?”
Aaron said nothing, but the Earl began to laugh coldly. Beatrix, nearly mad with confusion, wanted to throttle both of them until she was given the explanation she felt due.
“Lady Beatrix?” Lord Bellton called out affectionately as he, too, entered the stables. “Is everything all right? There was a commotion, and now I find… oh, what’s this? You appear to be an acquaintance of hers, you must be her—”
Prince Aaron’s fist collided solidly with Lord Bellton’s face, sending him sprawling backwards. The Earl shouted in surprise as Bellton fell to the ground, and Beatrix cried out indignantly.
“Father! You mustn’t do such a thing!” she said, pushing past Aaron and coming to kneel beside Lord Bellton.
“He had it coming,” Aaron said dryly. “I’d already vowed it would be the first thing I did when I saw him.”
Stepping closer, Aaron leaned down slightly and held out his hand to help the Marquess to his feet. Lord Bellton hesitated, expecting only another thrashing, but accepted the offer of help once he’d registered the amiable look on the man’s face.
“I suppose I wholly deserve that,” he said, letting Aaron prop him up on his feet as he rubbed his jaw. “I hope that is all you think I deserve?”
“That remains to be seen,” Prince Aaron said, “but for now I think it will serve. You seem to be a decent fellow, and my daughter says she was treated well for the most part.”
“Never fear, Bellton,” Weavington called out impatiently. “I’ll have that added to the list of charges when the authorities haul him to the stocks. He’s already in it for quite a number of offenses, and now for striking two members of the peerage.”
“I don’t remember anything of the kind,” Bellton answered, looking down at the Earl with an air of indifference. “Did anyone else witness such violence?”
Prince Aaron grinned, but Beatrix still looked distressed. Tears of frustration still stung her eyes, and she clutched her father’s sleeve in distress.
“Father, please. What is happening? I must know!”
Aaron turned to face his daughter and embraced her once again. “I fear I must tell you the truth now, a truth I had hoped to never utter before you. It will break your heart, and I fear it may never be repaired.”
“Ah, Lord Bellton? Are you going to allow this criminal to remain unbound?” the Earl whined, sounding more and more shrill as he continued to rail against Aaron.
“Weavington, I shall deal with you in a moment,” Lord Bellton explained. “Until then, I ask you to remain quiet.”
“Beatrix, this is not a happy tale, I’m afraid,” Prince Aaron said, attempting to continue.
“Bellton! I must insist you detain him!” the Earl shouted, rising to his feet. Prince Aaron kicked his legs out from under him, then shrugged his shoulders.
“I hope you believe that he fell just now.” Lord Bellton looked away to cover his laughter, and Aaron turned back to Beatrix. “Daughter, I—”
“Stop!” Weavington screamed in a panic.
The sound of a pistol cocking caught all of them off guard. They turned in time to see the Earl raise up his gun once more, this time in Aaron’s direction, and for Lord Bellton to throw himself in the path of the bullet as the flash emerged. The sound of the gunshot rang out in the stable, followed by the thud of the Marquess’s body landing on the straw-covered floor.
“Halt! Move away!” a man shouted as two uniformed officials entered the stable.
“Oh, thank goodness you’ve arrived!” the Earl of Weavington gushed. “This thief has just shot the Marquess of Bellton!”
“What?” Beatrix shouted. “How dare you?”
“Silence, madam,” one of the men said. He looked to Aaron and narrowed his eyes. “A thief, you say?”
“Yes! The notorious Prince Aaron, formally Aaron Risewell!” the Earl added.
