Page 76 of Watching the Earl

How could she explain it to a man?

As it was, she didn’t have to. Every woman in the room looked at him as if he were a molting starling. Then Ellie took her husband’s hand. “Not all men are as willing to listen to what an intelligent woman has to say.”

He nodded and looked at Lord Harewood. “I suggest we make a visit to Lord Durham forthwith.”

The two men immediately left the room, and all the ladies started talking to each other. Georgina felt immensely grateful, but even now that they had a plan, as they always did for her, she found her spirits flagging. Even if it all worked out, could she ever forgive Philip for his accusations? That he didn’t believe she’d kept the secret was somewhat understandable. She’d never kept one before.

But that he’d married her to punish himself…

Chapter Twenty

Philip jumped out of the coach, his fury building. First it was because he’d been set upon by Lords Harewood and Ferncroft. However, at their suggestion to deny the rumor, and their reassurances that they would help, he’d calmed. But when they revealed the culprit, he’d barely kept himself from rushing out past them. How dare Ashfield besmirch Georgina’s reputation, along with the Durhams’! He’d never liked the man, but now he found his feelings bordering on murderous, something he’d not felt before.

Stepping into White’s, he quickly moved through the rooms, looking for the tall blond lord, who was rather easy to spot. Philip finally found him in the room with the betting book, along with at least half a dozen other men. “Ashfield!”

At his yell, everyone stopped talking, and the man looked up from the book with a lackadaisical smile. “I’m right here, Lord Durham. No need to shout.”

“Actually, there is. You dare besmirch my wife’s name? The woman was pure when I married her, yet you tout about Town that she wasn’t?”

Ashfield’s smile disappeared and a snide sneer crossed his face. “That’s impossible. I had her first.”

“Either you have the wrong woman, or you’re clueless on how to take a woman. I don’t care which it is. I only care about my wife. To have such a lie spread about her is below any respectable peer, and I expect you to recant your falsehood.”

“I can’t because it’s the truth. The little trollop is desperate for attention. Too bad you can’t see that.”

When he’d walked into White’s, Philip had held on to his emotions by remembering his father’s admonishments against fighting, and tried valiantly to control the rage inside him. His father had always said gentlemen fought with their intelligence. Commoners fought with their fists.

“Obviously, it is you who cannot see well. Perhaps your lust colored your perception. My wife has always been a lady. I wouldn’t be surprised to discover the trollop you fucked was indeed just that, a trollop, since it’s well known that your ability to take a woman at all is often questioned.”

“You bastard,” Ashfield snarled as he lunged forward, swinging his fist.

Philip ducked before sending his own fist into Ashfield’s enraged face. The man spun around, stumbled backward against the wall, and slid down it in a slump.

It wasn’t enough. Though Ashfield’s head was limp upon his chest, Philip reached down and grabbed the man’s cravat. “Get up. You started this.”

A hand came down on his shoulder. “Durham, he’s down. Your defense was witnessed. If you hit him again, you’ll be ousted. I’m afraid that’s all the satisfaction you’ll get today.”

He forced himself to look over his shoulder to see Manning shaking his head. Philip turned back to look at the lolling head of Ashfield and dropped him like the filth he was. “Then I shall have to call him out.”

His friend shook his head. “I’m afraid with all these good gentlemen as witnesses, you would be discovered.”

Looking around the room, Philip found the number of men nearby had doubled. He moved his gaze to Ashfield and scowled. “He deserves to suffer for what he’s done. Wake him up.”

Manning stepped between him and the object of his fury. “May I suggest a longer-lasting retribution?”

Forced to focus on his friend, Philip nodded.

Manning addressed the men in the room. “I suggest a vote to evict Lord Ashfield from White’s for the dishonor he brought to Lady Durham with his vicious lie, and for attempting to brawl.”

Though the dishonor Ashfield had brought upon Georgina was not a lie, the man still was dishonorable and deserved to be thrown out for his actions. Philip looked about the room, and the men nodded in agreement. It wasn’t a sure thing, as many must have heard the rumor, but the man had swung first, which was considered ungentlemanly conduct at White’s. As much as Philip still wanted to pummel the bastard, he was well aware of the precarious position he was in.

Finally, he looked back at Manning. “I agree.”

“Good. It will be so. Now, let’s have a drink and allow me to call for some ice for your hand.”

He looked down at his hand and found it red. As if by noticing it he gave it permission to start throbbing, he quickly agreed.

Wellsley joined them as they walked out the door. “I forgot you were active with the pugilist coach as well as in rowing at university.”