It wasn’t that Sebastian didn’t like ballrooms. It was that he didn’t care for the dramatics that always came with them. Some scandal was always brewing, gossip was flying, and so he stayed long enough for four dances, business, and then he was on his way.
A short stop to check on his friend Marcus in Covent Garden was cut even shorter when the man wasn’t at home.
Everything promised to be a dull evening until this.
Some fool of a hackney driver decided to break down here, the wheel clearly out of sorts and the large horse uncomfortable but unmoving. The driver was already knocked down on the ground beside him. And now there was the rider set to be the next victim.
A young woman. Lady, by the looks of it, tall and caught up in the hands of men who were determined to hurt her.
Having spent several years here in his youth, Sebastian knew all too well how to use the shadows to his advantage. Maybe the men had done the same. But it was the only similarities they shared because he didn’t stand for such injustice. This was something he braced himself for whenever he was here, creeping in the quiet and moving until he had to.
Anger coursed through him. They couldn’t do that to a lady. To a woman. Fortunately, he was itching for a fight, and he would take his chances to protect her.
“This is ours,” cried out one of the men. He was fumbling with the purse still tied to the woman’s hand. “Find your own lass!”
“What if I want this one?” he asked.
He heard the stilted gasp from her, knowing she saw nothing but a beast before her. Didn’t understand he wouldn’t touch her. Sebastian might have lived here, but he’d been born to a duke and understood well the morals and ethics of society. Of being a man. Of human decency.
“Let go of me!” The woman tried to fight, wriggling her body and twisted her yellow dress about.
The action started once again, only having paused by his arrival. Sebastian cursed under his breath. He should have taken advantage of that. Why had he taken to talking?
Blast it, Julian. You talk so much during our fencing matches it’s become a habit.
Putting thoughts of his friends behind him, Sebastian waded into the fight. There were a total of five men now and two victims. One was unconscious, so he could be left alone. The man didn’t look to have much on him anyway beyond the hackney, so he would be fine.
It was the lady––yes, definitely judging by her thin clothing she was a lady not meant for cold spaces like this––who was in serious trouble.
And it’s only going to get colder.
“Let her go,” Sebastian ordered as he stepped forward.
“Davey, get him!”
Davey, dumb as they could get, stormed toward Sebastian with raised fists. While he considered letting the fool get in one hit, he decided the time wasn’t necessarily worth it. So he shot out a fist and knocked the man down in one go. Before Davey hit the ground in a crumpled heap, Sebastian was moving again.
This might not be an official boxing match, but that didn’t matter. He was using his fists in these very streets before ever entering a ring. It was in there he could fight like he was a half-civilized man. Here, however it didn’t matter what or who he was.
My valet will be put out if this coat ends up with blood on it. This was his favorite. I’ll have to buy another one just to please him. I shouldn’t have come tonight.
But if he hadn’t been here, then he couldn’t help the lady, whoever he was. The thought of someone hurt with a faulty carriage hurt him. It twisted his gut like a thin blade slicing at his organs. He couldn’t bear it.
“Oy, Davey! What’d you do?”
Sebastian grunted, deciding against words this time as he swung. But the younger man was fast. He ducked in time before kicking. It was a narrow escape, but still put Sebastian further away from the young lady who had gone tumbling down.
He froze, unable to help himself. What had happened? Was she hurt?
She was on top of the other man now. Moving, fighting, he realized. She was clawing at his face. There weren’t gloves, and he was screaming. There was something else in his hands he was avoiding letting her get to… The purse.
Ladies and their things. She can replace a purse and whatever fan she has in there in the morning. Let it go, lady, or you’ll be worse for wear.
And if he wasn’t careful, she might even blame him.
Sebastian huffed in irritation. The distraction only lasted a moment, but it was enough for someone to get a swing in. He caught sight of the fist too late and fell back onto a knee, grunting. They had hit his cheek. No crack, but it still hurt.
“Ha!” One of the men was gloating.
