“I said no such thing,” Caroline said loudly.
“Now my dear,” Mr. Landon said smoothly, “you are overcome by this turn of events, most natural thing in the world.”
He came closer and took her by the arm. “You must sit down and recover yourself.”
“Take your hands off me!” Caroline shouted, attempting to struggle out of his grip. His hand was strong and his fingers dug into her arm painfully.
Mr. Landon did release her then, though not through any efforts of her own.
Lord Bertridge had him by the coat collar and lifted him off the ground.
The musicians one by one stopped playing, the music drifting off in bits and pieces. The dance petered out and the room grew hushed.
The lord threw Mr. Landon to the ballroom floor and said, “Do you dare get up again, you reprobate?”
Mr. Landon got to his knees, a smarmy smile on his face. “Now see here, Bertridge, the lady has consented to be my wife.”
“I certainly have not,” Caroline said.
“Of course she has not,” Lord Bertridge said.
“What goes on here?” the Regent called from the gallery.
“What goes on, Your Royal Highness,” Lord Bertridge said, “is Mr. Landon is a scoundrel who has left a scullery maid with child, and now attempts to force Miss Upton into marriage to gain access to her father’s stud concern. Should that not work out, he’s been hoping his eldest brother dies driving his phaeton. He is conniving, avaricious, and utterly devoid of morality.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Mr. Landon said, rising and dusting himself off. “Do you never tire of staring down your nose, old man?”
Caroline noticed Lord Bertridge’s fists opening and closing.
In a low fury he said, “The scullery maid paid you a visit before the boxing exhibition. I heard every word, as did my valet.”
Mr. Landon paled. He jutted his chin out and said, “Come Bertridge, those sorts will say anything for money, everybody knows it.”
“No,” Lord Bertridge said, “youwill say anything for money. And by the by, I warned you not to rise.”
Lord Bertridge punched Mr. Landon square in the jaw and the man fell in a heap to the ballroom floor.
The silence was almost deafening in Caroline’s ears.
The Regent said, “Alvanley, you’d better take your cousins elsewhere. And do not bring them back.”
It was clear to Caroline that while the likes of Landon might amuse the Regent, he did not care to be associated with the downright scandalous. As for who the Regent was to believe between the two men, it seemedthathad not even been a question. Lord Bertridge might not entertain him, but his propriety and veracity were above reproach.
Lord Alvanley, to his credit, looked entirely shaken. He grabbed Mr. Mushkell’s arm roughly and marched him over to where Mr. Landon lay on the floor.
“My apologies, Bertridge,” he said.
Lord Bertridge only nodded.
Lord Alvanley and the cousin he had still standing dragged the cousin no longer standing out of the ballroom and beyond the doors.
“Well, what now?” the Regent said. “I grow tired of gentlemen toying with Miss Upton’s reputation. It is very low.”
“Ido not toy with Miss Upton’s reputation,” Lord Bertridge said, folding his arms.
“No, of course you do not, Bertridge,” the Regent said. “I cannot imagine that you even toyed withtoysin your younger years. Do take Miss Upton to the refreshments room and get her something restorative. Let everyone understand that I back Miss Upton in this matter and I name Landon a scoundrel that nobody will receive. Now, carry on everybody. It is my ball, after all.”
Caroline was nearly dizzy with confusion. Too much had happened too fast. She had been dancing, and then trapped, and then set free again. Mr. Landon had got her in his grip, and Lord Bertridge had knocked him flat.
