All the air rushed out of Hector’s lungs. Hell, she had to be sixteen. A child. The front of her silk gown was ripped, and she clutched the torn fabric with trembling fingers.
“Leave. Now!” Quentin strode to him, muscles tensing under his unbuttoned shirt.
Hector didn’t move. Quentin’s pupils were so dilated the blue irises were barely visible, and even in the dim light, his face appeared flushed and glistening with sweat.
Hector ignored him. “Do you wish to leave, child?”
She nodded, rouge smearing her cheeks.
Hector didn’t need to hear more. He shoved Quentin aside and headed for the scared girl.
“Get out.” Quentin’s voice sounded cracked and raspy. He lunged, staggering on his feet, but Hector blocked him by grabbing him by the shoulders.
“You are…” He was about to say drunk but wasn’t sure his cousin was just drunk. He shoved him again and crouched in front of the girl. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, curling up in a corner.
“Do you need a physician?”
“I want to go home,” she whispered.
He moved to haul her up and take her out of the room but paused, not sure how she’d react. “Leave. Wait for me in the hallway. I’ll take care of him. He won’t hurt you.”
She sprang up like a rabbit and fled the room in a flutter of torn silk and dishevelled hair.
“No!” Quentin went to grab her arm, but Hector pushed him away easily.
Quentin tottered back and fell over, groaning and clutching his stomach.
Hector snatched a few guineas from the dresser and a coat before leaving his cousin muttering nonsense on the floor. One word arrived loud and clear though.
“Bastard,” Quentin said.
As if Hector cared. “Madam.” He walked over to the girl who was halfway down the stairs. “Here.” He handed her the coat and the money. “Take a hansom cab. There’s always one or two passing by. Would you like me to escort you home?”
Her horrified face said it all. He didn’t look reassuring, barefoot, shirtless, and with wild hair.
“No.” She rushed down the stairs faster than he could ask her if she wanted a maid’s company.
Well, he couldn’t blame her. He shuffled back to his bedroom, pausing at Quentin’s door. Nausea roiled his stomach. If he needed one more reason to claim the title, Quentin had just given it to him.
nineteen
HECTOR FOCUSED ON Maddie’s feet as she showed him the style of the gentlemen’s bow in fashion. It wasn’t his fault if the quick glimpse of her slender ankles and calves distracted him. As part of his becoming a duke, he had to learn, or learn again, manners, and apparently, the way gentlemen bowed had changed in the past years. Although he didn’t remember the old type of bow. Oh, well. Who cared? Verity and Mr. Merriweather were both present. Apparently, an entire entourage of peers was necessary to reacquaint him with the so-called civilisation.
“You move your left foot towards your right one.” Maddie did just that, lifting her skirts. The frilly lace of her petticoats made an appearance. “Then shift the right foot half a foot back. No, don’t move the left foot.” She stretched out a hand when he moved.
“Perhaps I should show him.” Mr. Merriweather stepped next to Hector. He made a few quick movements with his feet before bowing from the waist, balancing his weight on the front foot. “Your right hand rests on your belly, and the left is slightly pulled back. I’ll do it again slowly.”
Hector repeated the steps after him. Right, left, right foot back, weight on the right leg, bow. What a complicated deed.
“Excellent.” Mr. Merriweather patted his shoulder. “If you meet a lady in the street, you won’t perform this complicated bow but a simpler one and remember to remove your hat but to keep its inner side towards you.” He showed Hector the movement by using his tall hat. “We don’t want to show the inside of the hat in case it’s dirty.”
Hector nodded, memorising every detail.
Verity watched them, eating bonbons on the sofa. “It’s very decent of you, Mr. Wentworth, to claim your title to take care of those workers.”
“After what I saw and what Maddie told me about the prime minister, I couldn’t remain indifferent to their pain. I believe their lives are even worse than my years on the island. I had to search for food constantly, and the monkeys attacked me, but I wasn’t a slave.”
