And then the duke pulled back a fist and punched the unsuspecting man in the face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The crowd gasped at the sound of Richard’s fist coming into contact with Arnold’s face.
They had barely recovered when another blow landed. Then another, followed by a fourth that brought Arnold down to his knees. Her cousin raised his gaze helplessly, blood dripping from the corner of his lip down to his jaw as he put his hands together as though he wanted to beg for mercy.
“Y-Your Grace – did I upset you somehow? I do not –”
“Be quiet, you coward,” Richard growled, grabbing Arnold by the collar. “Your worst mistake was trying to harm her. I’ll make sure it is your last.”
Isobel winced as Richard continued to beat her cousin, feeling scared as she watched his tense form deliver blow after blow. But more than that, she was worried for Richard. He was always socalm and collected, ever the picture of poise in public. But here he was now, impulsive and disheveled.
Because of her.
“Richard,” Isobel called, her voice somehow cutting through the shocked, silent atmosphere, rising above Arnold's whimper for mercy. “Please… stop. He will not be able to account for what he has done if you hurt him any more than that.”
Richard paused, his fist drawn back but still in the air. He glared down at Arnold’s sniveling form, his expression one of disgust. With a deep exhale, the duke lowered his hand completely, but used the one clutching to Arnold’s collar as leverage to drag him to where Isobel was seated.
“You have much to answer for, you coward,” he spat, clearly still seething. “You had better tell us the truth, if you know what is good for you.”
Isobel wanted to hold Richard’s hand, wanted him close for her own comfort. But she had been selfish for too long, and any more would take more out of her than she could give.
So she forced her gaze ahead, settling on Arnold instead. He had bruises forming around his face, and his left eye was swelling as the cut on his lip continued to bleed. He looked pathetic, a far cry from the man who had complained bitterly about his mother’s inability to support him fully.
Isobel could not help but wonder if perhaps he had complained then because Deborah had been against his misdeeds. Ultimately, there was only one way to find out.
“Why did you do this? Why poison me and then start a fire when that failed to do the job? What great offense did I commit against you?”
Arnold glanced around before he shook his head,
“I-I do not know what you mean, cousin. Why would I – how could you think such of me? I would never –”
“Consider this your final warning,” Richard cut in darkly. “If you do not tell us the truth, I will kill you with my bare hands.”
Arnold’s mouth snapped shut, and his eyes took on a dark glint, but after a few moments, he questioned with a snark-imbued tone.
“Do you have any proof of these accusations? Everyone has just witnessed you beat me as though I were a filthy beggar when I have done nothing to deserve such treatment. Now you hurl such baseless accusations at me?”
Wordlessly, Isobel held out the handkerchief, feeling oddly satisfied as the color drained from his face. Deborah broke into a fit of sobs, and as Bridget reached for her mother in an attempt to console her, Arnold rose to his feet and approached them.
“You stupid wench! After I have done everything I could for this family! I was trying to restore our glory!”
“We did not need it! We have survived fine enough without it for years! You are simply trying to make excuses for your greed!” Bridget snapped back, much to Arnold’s clear disdain.
He raised his hand with an angry roar, and his mother screamed, but Richard intercepted the attack before it could land on Bridget, shoving Arnold backwards.
Bridget stared at her brother in disbelief, then an angry light filled her eyes. She turned to Isobel and pointed at her.
“He was not after Valerie. He was never after Valerie. It was Cecil he wanted to kill. And he failed twice.” She said.
Isobel felt her blood run cold. Next to her, Cecil went still, his arms tight around Nora’s small frame as the girl slept.
“I don’t — what do you mean?” Isobel asked in disbelief.
“You shut your mouth!” Arnold screamed at her.
Bridget continued, unfazed by her brother’s outburst.
