Truthfully, there was no one that James trusted at the moment, but he had no other choice. And he couldn’t allow for any distractions at the lunchtime bout.
His hands crumpled the letter.
Not if I am going to destroy Farrell.
The moment James entered the dog fighting pit, he looked for his wife.
And there she was, sitting primly in a drab but respectable dress and pelisse, in the stands around the pit, at the right-hand side of Farrell.
James felt his hands clench into fists at the sight of the gang boss sitting next to his wife, engaging her in polite conversation.
“That’s right, Violet, don’t respond,” he muttered to himself as he saw his wife coldly look away from Farrell when he asked her a question. It made him glad to see that the feistiness she so often displayed with him was also very present when she was in the company of such a dangerous and despicable man.
“Your Grace!” Farrell exclaimed, catching sight of James. “You have arrived!” He stood up and made his way down the stands, extending his hand. “How glad I am to see you.”
James noted that Farrell didn’t bow to him, as was customary for a commoner when greeting a member of the aristocracy. But he knew this was just another powerplay.
Under different circumstances, he would have refused to shake hands with this man, but James could feel the eyes of all the onlookers on him.
My tenants are curious to see how I will treat him. And Farrell wants me to behave ungentlemanly. That’s why he has Violet sitting up there. He’s antagonizing me, trying to show my people that I cannot treat someone lower than me with respect.
So even though it took a great deal of effort, James grasped Farrell’s hand and shook it. Surprise momentarily flickered in the gang boss’s eyes, but then it was gone.
“Farrell,” James uttered. “We meet again. But before we discuss anything, I require a word with my wife.”
“But of course.” Farrell gestured to Violet. “Although I must insist that you speak to her here so that I can be sure you will not run with her.”
James wanted to punch the man, but he controlled himself.
As if I could run with my own wife! He’s the one who kidnapped her.
“Of course,” he agreed stiffly and then followed Farrell up the stands to where Violet was sitting.
Was he imagining it, or did his wife look relieved—even happy—to see him?
“James,” she whispered as he sat down next to her. Her voice sounded choked. “You came.”
“Of course, I came,” James murmured.
This close to her, he could smell her signature scent and feel the warmth of her skin, and it took everything in him not to close his eyes and breathe her in.
“Are you all right?” he whispered. “Are you hurt?”
“Not at all. Farrell is a man of his word—at least in this regard. I haven’t been harmed.”
Relief flooded James, and he took her hand. “I am happy to hear that. I have been so worried.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed his hand. “James, I want to apologize. You were right when you said it was too dangerous for me to come here. I have been foolish and arrogant. With the threat of my father looming over our heads, I didn’t take the threat from Farrell seriously enough. It’s my fault that this has happened, and I’m deeply sorry.”
“It is not your fault,” James reassured her at once, his heart clenching with agony at the thought of her blaming herself. “It is mine. I am your husband, and I should have protected you better. I have failed you, Violet…”
“You have not failed me,” she said so earnestly that he almost believed her. “And I know you will find us a way out of this.”
“I will,” he promised. “Farrell’s kidnapping you was a foolish and desperate move. I believe that the townsfolk will turn on him for it—they will not support him for threatening my wife.”
“Do you really think you can get them on our side?”
“I do,” he said, nodding.
