Richardhadbeenawayall morning. He had never said where, but the bellboy told her he rose early and took a cab downtown before she was even back from her walk.
It was just as well. Some people liked to exhaust their feelings and come to terms with their disagreements, but Richard was not one of them. Rather, he bottled them until the steam either cooled or found some crack through which to vent. Perhaps a day or two without seeing one another was just the thing, so they might speak more rationally when he was prepared to do so.
Elizabeth puttered through her morning duties: one of the maids was quitting, another requesting leave, and she hired a new kitchen girl. Reservations came in with the morning mail, and two guests checked out. After three steady hours, her neck and fingers ached, and she stood to stretch. It was not... not a bad life. Anyone would call themselves lucky to be where she was—comfortable, respected, with tasks to fill her days and some time for leisure. But she could not recall the last time she felt friendly with anyone. Perhaps Georgiana would write back soon.
She was filing reservations when Richard’s steps sounded outside. She did not bother to look at him, for his footsteps came only partially in, turned to the left, and stopped. His breathing was irregularly loud, as if he had run up the walk from the road, and she heard him shuffling items on the desk. Finally, she finished her task and turned around.
His face was chalky, his chest rising in uneven bursts. “Elizabeth...”
She started forward. “Richard, whatever is the matter? Is it the Army?”
He shook his head and raised his hand. “No—I need you to sit down. I have made a bloody hash of things. I hope you will still speak to me after I’ve said all.”
“What? Richard, whatever it is, we can sort it out. Truly—“
But he was shaking his head, an ominous set to his mouth. “Not this time.” He ruffled his hair, just as William used to do when he was flustered and turned to pace the length of the office floor. Elizabeth’s stomach knotted. He bore his Colonel look—the face he wore when he was about to do or say something fatal.
“Look, Elizabeth, I... oh, Lord, how do I even say it? I went to town today, and—” The bell jingled at the front desk, and he broke off, his entire expression almost swearing in vexation.
She shrugged apologetically. “Someone wanting to check in. The desk host only stepped out for a moment.”
He heaved a beleaguered grunt. “Blast it! Very well, I shall write the blackguard’s name on the bleeding register and send him on his merry way.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up. Whatever had him bound in a snarl, she was starting to worry for his state of mind. Cautiously, she followed him back out to the front desk where an impatient guest stood tapping his toe and calling for someone to attend him...
And that was when the man locked eyes with her. His look was instant wrath, and her knees turned to water.Silas Bryson.
“Elizabeth,” Richard hissed, “run!”
Shoreline Hotel and Resort.
Thismustbetheplace. Darcy paid the driver and got down in a rush, then checked himself. If Richard and Elizabeth were truly here, he would look like a dashed fool blundering up the walk, breathless and glowing like some besotted yokel. No, no, he would face them with all dignity, address the business at hand, and make an honourable exit. Of sorts.
As he strolled up the walk, a bellboy opened the grand front door. Darcy followed the hall into the main foyer, which was vacant save for... egad, was that...Richard?
There was no doubt about it, for that was none but his cousin, grappling over the counter with a barrel-chested man nearly twice his size. Their hats were on the floor and their faces already red with venom and bruises. Darcy was just in time to see Richard flying over the counter at the man. The other was trying to reach for a swinging door, but Richard caught him by the collar and clubbed him in the jaw. The bigger man bellowed an unsavoury epithet and reared back, then they were twisting and wrestling together, snarling like curs and roaring in mutual rage.
Darcy was already running to break them apart, but it was over too quickly. Richard wedged his knee between the other man’s legs, tripping him, and delivered a vicious uppercut, but the bigger fellow must have had a jaw made of iron. He fairly picked Richard up and threw him. Just before Darcy could catch him, the man circled back for a brutal kick to the groin that doubled Richard into a helpless ball, then he bounded for the door.
Richard was spitting from a bloody lip and groaning, writhing but not yet trying to rise when Darcy rolled him over. “Richard!”
His cousin’s eyes widened in recognition, his teeth still bared in pain... and then he wound up and landed a sharp blow to Darcy’s cheek.
“What the devil? Are you mad?” Darcy sputtered as he held his face.
Richard rolled to all fours, still moving sluggishly. “Go, Darcy,” he groaned.
“I am afraid I cannot. I came on a matter of utmost—”
“I saidgo!” Richard thundered. He staggered to his feet, still half-bent and panting in agony.
“What, have you lost your mind? Do you always punch the guests and send the—”
“Darcy, for the love of all that is holy, go! After him! That was Bryson, and he means to kill Elizabeth!”
Chapter 53
Elizabeth’slegswerepumpinglike steam pistons, her feet slapping the pavement and her heart galloping in her ears. She dared not stop and look back, but she did not think Bryson was behind her. Richard had grabbed him first, and if she knew one thing, it was that her husband would fight like a lion.
