Page 47 of Twice Upon a Midnight

She saw the terrible bruises and cuts on Spenser’s face, and worry seized her. “Dear God, Spenser,” she whispered, stunned. “What happened to you?”

But he didn’t answer and didn’t look away from Simon as he repeated, “Get away from her.”

“Didn’t you hear the master of ceremonies?” Simon countered and placed his hand possessively on the small of Ella’s back. “You’re not invited. But then, your kind would never have anything to do with a party like this, except to print other people’s invitations.”

Instead of reassuring her, Simon’s touch sent a chill down her spine, and she stepped away from him.

But she didn’t go to Spenser. She was too confused to know what to do as her gaze darted back and forth between the two men.Goodness, the similarities…She’d always seen a resemblance between them—the same strong build, the same wavy brown hair and high cheekbones. Only the eyes were so very different.

Seeing them together like this, she finally realized exactly how similar they were. And what she was certain it meant about them—

“You’re…brothers,” she whispered, her mind trying to absorb that truth.

“Halfbrothers,” Simon corrected. “My father is the Duke of Pensworth.” He folded his arms dismissively over his chest and cast a disapproving glance over Spenser from head to boots. “Hisfather was a common soldier.”

“My father was a decorated major who gave his life at the Battle of Lincelles in order to save dozens of his men and stop a tyrant from enslaving all of Europe.” Spenser scoured the same withering look over Simon. “And far braver than yours could ever be.”

Simon clenched his jaw. “Are you calling my father a coward?”

“No! No, no…no.” The old man who had followed Spenser into the ball reached them after losing the footman in the crush, but it wouldn’t be long before they were found and both tossed out. He put his hand on Spenser’s shoulder. “He would never disparage your honor or your father’s like that. Would you, lad?” He forced a laugh. But his face was red with the exertion of running through the party, and his lungs were winded, making each forced word as breathless. “Just a misunderstanding. That’s all.”

“Those men who attacked me were not under any misunderstanding,” Spenser corrected.

Ella’s heart jolted. “You were attacked?”

Spenser’s gaze locked with Simon’s, his voice harsh and cold. “Tell her what happened,” he demanded. “Show her the kind of man you truly are.”

Simon smiled coldly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You did this.” Spenser gestured toward the bruises and cuts on his face, and Ella inhaled sharply. “Rather, the men you hired did this because you’re not brave enough to wage your own battles. Never have been.” He stepped forward until the two of them were separated only by a half-foot of space, their faces level. “You don’t even have the spine to deliver your own warnings about Ella yourself.”

Ella blinked. “What warnings? I don’t understand…” She wheeled on Simon. “Did you hurt him?”

“Obviously not enough.” Simon muttered. Then he gave her one of those charming smiles she’d grown to hate.Patronizing. As if she were nothing more than an ignorant child. “Don’t worry yourself, Elenora.Mr.Reed was just leaving and won’t bother us again.”

Everyone in the room was craning their necks to look at them now, and whispers rose around them as the dancers came to a slow stop. Even the musicians ceased playing, sensing something was amiss in the room. From the corner of her eye, Ella saw the master of ceremonies conferring with Lord Whitwell about whether Spenser and his friend should be physically ejected from the party.

“What is going on?” she demanded, darting her confused gaze between the two men.

“My brother wants you for himself,” Spenser explained. “But not because he wants you, not really. He just doesn’t want me to have you.” Finally, he turned his grim gaze to Ella. “I was attacked by three men after I left you in the park. They delivered a warning to stay away from you. Simon wanted me out of the way so he could court you.”

Her mouth fell open. She knew it was true. “Simon, what did you do?”

“Not a warning,” Simon clarified, “but a reminder of who my brother is and how he shouldn’t go reaching for things beyond his grasp. Like the daughter of a duke.” He slid a narrowed glance at her. “Did he tell you who he was? And I don’t mean the stepson of a duke, because that would make him seem so much more important than he truly is. He’s nothing but atradesman.” He sneered out the word. “A printer. No social status of any kind, no wealth or position.” He paused before adding, “His dirty hands shouldn’t be allowed to touch anyone like you, Elenora.”

Her chest constricted so painfully with feelings of betrayal that she winced, although at that moment she couldn’t have said which man had betrayed her more.

She took a step back. “That’s why I was able to trace you to the print shop,” she whispered, unable to find her voice, as she stared at Spenser. “Why you sent me all those poetry books…” She swallowed hard. “What you meant that night in the park about your hands—” She wheeled on Simon, her own hands clenching into fists. “And you—you knew I was searching for your brother, yet you hid the truth from me.”

“Because he’s not good enough for you,” Simon told her. “Because he’s nothing.”

Spenser pulled back his arm and punched Simon on the chin, snapping back his brother’s head and sending him staggering backward.

“No!” Ella jumped between the two men before one of them could kill the other.

“Not here, lad.” The old man in the threadbare coat put his hand on Spenser’s bicep. “Not like this. You’ll have to live with these people once this is over. No need to make life any more difficult for you and your future.”

Spenser shrugged away the man’s hand and advice, but he made no further move to attack Simon, who rubbed at his chin and the bruise already forming there.