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Had his heart ever beat with such frenzy? Had he ever felt so slow? She was disheveled, her gown torn, and she was running as though for her life. Bruton, damn his soul, was at her back.
He reached her and held her as she collapsed into his arms, saying, “I knew you would come … just a little while ago … I saw it…” And she began to cry.
He put her behind him as Bruton stumbled down towards them, and he went forward to land Bruton a leveler, and even as Bruton hit the ground, he picked him up and hit him again.
He turned and took Taffy into his embrace and saw immediately, even in the dim light of the street lamp, her cheek was bruised. “Taffy … my own sunbeam … did he do this?” He didn’t wait for her answer but turned to pick up Bruton so he could hit him again, but Taffy stayed him.
“No … oh, Thurston … do just take me home.”
There was a commotion behind them, for Catherine arrived with a beadle. Seth and Nigel also were there.
“Tarrant—you’re here? We would have been here sooner … saw Cathy running and screaming like a banshee… Cathy never screams … took off after her on foot,” Seth announced in a breathless voice like a ban.
Fenmore, now on the scene, took Catherine’s hands to his lips and was cooing to her, as the beadle was addressing Tarrant.
“Thank you, sir,” said the Hotspur. “We can take it from here.”
“Would ye be wanting to press charges?”
Taffy shook her head.
They didn’t need a scandal, so Hotspur answered softly, “I think not … as I said, we thank you for your quick service, but we will get him to where he belongs.”
The beadle seemed well pleased for the compliment and the accompanying coin. He tipped his hat and moved off.
“Taffeta, I need you to go home with Catherine, your brother, and Nigel. Fenmore and I will see to Bruton. Will you do that for me?”
“What are you going to do? You must not kill him!”
“Never mind what I am going to do. Please, my love, Catherine too needs you, and you both need to get home to a hot tub and relax. I will call on you first thing in the morning.”
“Right then … but, Thurston… I…”
“Steady, my brave beauty.” He touched her under chin and saw her and Catherine installed in the hack the boys had waiting for them.
“Take the ladies home and not a word of this to anyone,” Tarrant said quietly before turning to Fenmore. Together they picked up the unconscious Bruton and threw him into Fenmore’s coach.
“What shall we do with him?”
“Drop him into the Thames,” said Hotspur on a hard note.
“Aye…” Fenmore regarded his friend. “But, really?”
“Really,” replied the Hotspur wickedly.
Epilogue
One month later
Taffeta leaned into her husband as their gondola plowed through one of Venice’s deep water canals. Her rakehell had insisted on an early wedding and would wait only long enough for her to have a gown created and a wedding party assembled.
Their honeymoon had been, from the moment they began, a trip filled with laughter, new experiences, and lovemaking that took her to what she told him were depraved heights.
She had questioned him a few times over the last few weeks about Bruton, who had vanished from society. A part of her was worried her beloved had indeed killed the man in a fit of rage.
She looked up at him now and asked softly, “Tarrant love, I need to know, and I need to know the truth, not a fairy tale. What have you done with Bruton? For when I asked Seth and Nigel, they said I must not ask and were convinced you drowned him in the Thames.”
He laughed, “They must have had that from James.”
