“And you were always a selfish prick,” John said. “Oh, apologies… A selfishcriminal.”
Daniel shrugged, inspected his torn and bloody knuckles. “At least I’ve had a bit of fun. How many years did you pine for little Evie without ever getting into her bed?”
John growled, pounced, and Evie latched almost her entire body onto his arm to keep him from jumping atop his brother.
“You should have stayed at the house,” Richard groaned, taking Beatrice’s proffered hand to stand.
“House?” John’s gaze swung like a scythe through wheat to Richard. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been Ricky’s houseguest the past few days. I suffered an almost fatal injury. He, at least, knows something of hospitality and brotherly love.”
Richard rolled his eyes. “It was a flesh wound. And you forced your way into my home.”
“You invited him to stay with you?” John’s hands were fists again, this time aimed at Richard.
“No! Of course not! But…” Richard swallowed. “I did answer that letter he wrote to you last year. And I have been keeping up correspondence with him since. I did not think any harm would come of it. He’s a scoundrel, but… he’s still our brother.”
In his voice, Beatrice heard the little boy who never had a family or a place where he belonged. Did John hear it?
“You have put my family in danger,” John said.
“Come off it, you prat. No one’s in danger.” Daniel climbed to his feet, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. “Except me.”
Richard seemed to have bolted his jaw shut. He would say nothing in his own defense.
Head hung but voice firm, John said, “Get out of my house.”
“Me?” Daniel pointed to himself then to Richard. “Or him?”
“Both!”
“John,” Evie warned.
But her groom did not listen. He made for the door, busted hands bleeding inside of his pockets.
Daniel trudged behind him still wearing the apron, though the bonnet had fallen off in the fray. Beatrice followed Richard toward his house, keeping her distance. Her mind was too jumbled to talk, yet she could not let him out of her sight. He might need her, and she needed to know he was well. Daniel went in the direction of the village, forking off the road that led to Richard’s home.
She paused. Should someone stop him? Lock him up? What was to be done with an exiled lord who caused trouble as often as he breathed?
Richard had pulled out of sight before she could make up her mind, so she scrambled after him, lifting her skirts to run and catch up.
At the door of his house, Richard froze, hand on the doorknob, back curled. “You can go back to Slopevale, Beatrice. Evie might want you.”
“Butyoumight need me.”
“I don’t need anyone. And you do not need me.”
“Nonsense.” She pushed past him and into the house, grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the kitchen. After a bit of bumbling through drawers and cupboards, she found some brandy and a clean cloth. “Sit.”
He did, but he wouldn’t look at her. She knelt by him and took his right hand in her own, splashed some brandy on the cloth, and began to clean his wounds.
He hissed. “I can do this myself.”
“You donkey.”
That earned a chuckle, and her heart smiled. She could do this. She had the power to make it right for him. She unfurled his hand and flipped it and placed a kiss in his palm.
That banished all his mirth, and he sank deeper into the seat, eyes closed. “I messed everything up. I have one job in life, and I failed at it.”
