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Turning, he knew what had happened before he saw it. Alice had been clinging to him, trying to restrain him. And as Simon had spoken his hateful insult, Harold’s control had broken. But it had not hurt Simon. Alice had been too close when Harold raised his arm to strike Simon. She had been struck instead. Harold turned and reached for her. His outstretched hand briefly brushed her fingers as she staggered away from him, off balance and fighting to retain it.
His eyes widened as he saw how close she was to the edge of the steps. Then Simon had his hands around Harold’s throat. And Alice fell. Her brother seemed unaware, bearing Harold backward until they collided with the stone balustrade that ran the length of the balcony. Harold reached up between Simon’s arms and broke apart his grip, then delivered the blow he had intended to at first.
It connected to Simon’s jaw and rolled up his eyes in his head. Simon’s knees sagged and he fell back to the wet stone. Gordon was already scrambling down the staircase after his sister-in-law. Ruth stood at the top of the stairs, wringing her hands.
“I say, you two! This is no time for a boxing match!” Gordon called, as he hurried to Alice’s side. “Settle it like gentlemen later. We must see to Alice.”
Harold vaulted the stone railing that ran down the steps, landing halfway down the staircase. He then leaped a number of steps to reach the point where Alice lay. She had a bump on her left temple and lay awkwardly on the lower steps, eyes closed and body limp.
“She’s breathing, thank god. No thanks to you. What the blazes were you thinking of?” Gordon raged, all of his previous bumbling affability vanishing.
“I wasn’t,” Harold said tersely. “That’s the problem. Yes, a strong heartbeat, and she’s breathing.”
He ran his hands quickly over her arms and legs, then up and down her ribs on both sides. Finally, he tenderly touched her neck.
“Nothing broken that I can feel. But we need a physician’s opinion. There must be one here somewhere,” Harold said.
He looked up at Gordon. “Go fetch one, I will stay with Alice.”
“I don’t think I should leave the ladies alone with…”
“Go. Now,” Harold snapped.
It was the same tone of command he had perfected during the war. A snap that had rank and had soldiers and other officers scurrying to obey almost before they were consciously aware of it. Gordon had straightened from Alice and taken a few steps before he stopped, briefly took one look at Harold’s face, and then hurried away. Harold put his arms under Alice’s knees and around her shoulders, holding her gently but firmly against him and then lifting her carefully.
Walking quickly but carefully back up the steps, he ignored Ruth who was fussing about Alice, and Simon, who was just beginning to stir. By the time Harold reached the doors to the sitting room, Gordon had raised a hue and cry inside. A number of people had gathered, staring dumbly at Harold as he carried Alice into the room.
“Make way there. Get out of the damn way!” he roared. “Is there a physician here?”
“Yes.” A middle-aged man with dark curly hair and a serious, square face pushed through the crowd.
Harold saw a chaise lounge at one end of the room and carefully laid Alice upon it. The physician looked down at her gravely, eyes going from the bump on her head and running expertly across her body, searching for other injuries. As Harold opened his mouth to speak, there came a strident voice from behind.
“That man assaulted me and my sister. He knocked her down a flight of steps after knocking me down,” Simon yelled. “I demand that this man is taken before a magistrate and charged with assault! I will see you hang for this, Clauder!”
CHAPTER27
“Don’t be absurd, man,” Harold growled.
Simon’s face turned an even darker shade of puce at the dismissive tone. His hands were clenched, as was his jaw. Harold realized that he stood alone. The gathered onlookers were grouped around Simon.
The implication was clear. Word had spread from those who had witnessed the conflict. The Duke of Redwood had struck down a young woman.
And that is quite literally, what happened. Had I maintained my self-control and not attempted to strike Simon, then this situation would never have arisen. Alice was attempting to protect her brother. It is my fault.
The realization acted as a damper on his anger, forcing tense muscles to relax, and hands to unclench.
My anger. My impulsiveness brought us to this. I could have stayed away tonight. I should have stayed away.
Harold crouched beside Alice, reaching to stroke her hair but Simon seized his wrist.
“Haven’t you done enough? Do not presume to touch my sister. Will someone call for a constable?” Simon snarled.
“A constable has been summoned,” came the voice of the Duke of Hastings, who now appeared, pushing his way through the crowd, “will someone tell me what has happened and why my ball has been disrupted so.”
He looked almost as angry as Simon and initially directed his glare at the man making the most noise, which was the Viscount Lindley.
“This young woman has taken a tumble down the stairs outside,” said the physician, “I am led to believe that she was struck by this man.”
