“I have never once thought that, partly because I don’t know you,” Winston said. “Nor do I care to, especially if the rumors about you are to be believed.”
Isaac’s lips tightened into a white line. “I do not know what you heard, but I love my wife,” he spat out.
“Then how exactly did you lose her?” Winston mocked.
His words hit their mark, evidenced by the flare of Isaac’s nostrils. “This is not over,” he shouted. “I will be back, and you will give me my wife and son.”
Winston smirked. “It almost seems like you believe you would be welcomed back into our home a second time.”
Isaac’s hands balled into tight, white-knuckled fists. “Thisconversation would have gone much differently if you didn’t have your servants here to protect you.”
Placing his glass down on the tray, Winston approached Isaac and came to a stop right in front of him. “I do not need my servants to fight my battles for me,” he said, his voice firm and unyielding. “Nor do I hit women for pleasure.”
“Sarah is my wife, and I will discipline her however I see fit,” Isaac retorted.
Winston leaned closer, his eyes boring into Isaac’s. “It is a shame, then, that you are no longer in possession of her,” he stated. “And if I do ever see my aunt or your son, I promise that I will ensure they go nowhere near you ever again.”
Isaac glared at him, his eyes sparking with fury. “I wouldn’t be so quick to promise that,” he sneered.
They continued to stare at one another, neither one willing to back down. Winston wasn’t afraid of Isaac, and he was determined to make that abundantly clear.
His mother’s voice came from behind them. “Dear heavens, what is all the yelling about?”
Isaac turned to face his mother, a cruel smile spreading on his lips. “Good afternoon, Lady Dallington?—”
Winston cut him off. “You will not speak to my mother,” he demanded. “It is time for you to leave.”
Grady took a step towards Isaac and gestured towards the door, his expression stern.
Isaac tsked. “I will get my wife back, one way or another,” he declared before he departed from the study with a huff. Grady followed him out of the room.
Winston took a moment to collect himself, his thoughts still swirling from the encounter with Isaac. He glanced at his mother, her expression expectant, and sighed inwardly. “That was Isaac—Sarah’s husband,” he revealed.
His mother’s eyes flickered with understanding. “I gathered as much from theraised voices.”
“It was unwise of you to intervene,” Winston gently chided.
She met his gaze with unwavering resolve. “And what would have happened had I not?” she asked. “After all, it appeared that you two were about to engage in fisticuffs.”
Winston walked over and picked up his drink from the tray. “It would have been no less than he deserved.”
His mother’s disapproval was evident as she shook her head. “I know you box during your time in London, but I do not condone hitting of any kind,” she admonished, her voice laced with concern. “I think it is rather barbaric.”
Winston remained silent, the weight of her words sinking in. “I understand, Mother,” he conceded.
White entered the room and informed him, “Mr. Blythe has departed from the manor.”
“Isaac is not welcome in our home. If he returns, deny him entry and send for the constable,” Winston said.
“Very good, my lord,” White responded.
“And send in Grady,” Winston ordered. “I wish to speak to him.”
White’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Is there something I can assist you with?” he inquired.
“No,” Winston responded.
With a nod, White departed from the study to carry out his instructions, leaving Winston alone with his mother once more.
