“I am doing no such thing!”
“It finally makes sense to me why you are marrying Miss Bentley.”
Roswell took a commanding step towards Worthington. “I am marrying Miss Bentley because I care greatly for her, and I refuse to see her marry the likes of you.”
“What will you do when you marry her, and she doesn’t receive a farthing of my money?” Worthington asked.
“As I said before, I do not care a fig if Miss Bentley has a farthing to her name.”
“You say that now, but I can’t help but wonder if you will toss her back to me when she is of little use to you.”
Having heard enough, Roswell reared back and punched Worthington’s jaw. “You will not speak about Miss Bentley that way,” he commanded as Worthington staggered back. “She is my fiancée and deserves more respect than you are giving her.”
“You will pay for that, Bideford,” Worthington growled, holding his bruised jaw.
“I truly doubt that.”
Without saying another word, Worthington walked over to a coach and stepped inside.
“I was wondering when you were going to punch him,” Townsend said as the coach rolled away.
“You waited far too long for my taste,” Cosgrove remarked. “I would have punched him the moment he opened his drunken mouth.”
Roswell glanced over his shoulder at the crowd that had assembled and sighed. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper and hit Worthington, but the man was beyond infuriating.
He just hoped his antics didn’t show up in the Society page tomorrow. But he had a sneaking suspicion they would.
17
“You punched Lord Worthington?”
Roswell glanced up from his desk at his mother, who was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. “I did,” he replied. There was no sense in trying to deny it.
“In front of all those people?”
“He should be grateful that I only punched him once.”
His mother gave him a stern look. “Have I not taught you better than this, son?” she asked. “We do not settle our differences with fisticuffs.”
“Worthington left me little choice in the matter.”
“Why was that?”
“You should have heard the disparaging comments he was making about Ellie.”
His mother sighed as she dropped her arms to her sides. “I can only imagine.”
“He was shouting in the middle of Old Palace Yard, and I saw no other way to shut him up,” Roswell said. “So I punched him.”
“That was poorly done on your part.”
“I disagree.”
Walking further into the room, she asked, “Do you not worry about the repercussions of hitting him?”
“Frankly, I don’t.” He eyed her curiously. “How did you come to find out about me punching Lord Worthington?”
“We were shopping on Bond Street when we heard the news,” she replied.
