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That earned him a jeering laugh. “Not yet wed and already hen-pecked! After all those years doing whatever your papa told you, now you need your wife to tell you what to do.”
Sculthorpe’s contemptuous sneer was intended to provoke him, but it merely struck Guy as pathetic. With such a controlling father, Guy had indeed feared being made to do anyone else’s bidding. But no longer. He knew himself. He knew his values. And he knew Arabella.
“Your problem, Sculthorpe, is deep inside you like a worm, and it will never go away. After hurting Arabella, you could have seen how you were wrong and changed your ways. But you didn’t. Another day will come when a woman says something you don’t like, and you’ll strike her and convince yourself that was your right.”
“She was mine, damn you,” Sculthorpe hissed, and swung for Guy’s face.
Guy stepped aside.
Sculthorpe quickly recovered his balance and sneered. “Take it like a man.”
This bit of nonsense made Guy snort. “If you say so, my lord,” he said, and smashed his fist into the other man’s jaw.
* * *
By the timeGuy had finished with Sculthorpe, the man was in no state to ride. So he hauled him to the far stables, which were old and empty, and tossed him onto a pile of hay.
“You have one hour to get yourself out of here,” he said.
“You grew up, Hardbury.” Sculthorpe laughed wheezily and swiped at the blood on his face. “Little whiner grew up to defend another whore.”
Rubbing his knuckles, Guy left the other man sprawled on the straw. The fight had left him both energized and exhausted. At the main stables, he found a pair of grooms, told them to take water and linens to Sculthorpe, and to fetch him in an hour if the baron hadn’t left.
Back in the house, Freddie and Miss Treadgold were cluttering up the foyer, eyes wide and faces pale.
“What were you thinking, Freddie? Miss Treadgold?” Guy looked from one to the other. “Why would you think it was a good idea to meet any man secretly, let alone that one? Let’s hope your guardians hush this up, but what thehellwere you thinking?”
“I was thinking I wanted to know what it was like to be courted,” Freddie said.
“That was a rhetorical question,” he bit out.
“I was thinking I must repay a debt of gratitude to my guardians by marrying well,” Miss Treadgold said.
Guy gritted his teeth. “The point is, you weren’t thinking. Those are dreadful reasons.”
“Easy for you to say,” Freddie sniped.
“You’re not us,” Miss Treadgold agreed.
“Stars above, Miss Treadgold. When did you become so defiant?”
“Miss Larke told me I should express myself. She’s right. It feels good.”
“Express yourself? She said that? Ha!”
The hypocrite! Arabella would not be able to express herself if the Spanish Inquisition had her stretched out on the rack under a vat of boiling oil.
Lady Belinda appeared in the doorway, as unflappable as ever. “Is he gone?” she asked.
Guy rubbed his aching jaw. “He’s resting in the far stables and will leave when he is able to ride.” He turned back to Freddie and Miss Treadgold. “You will not leave this house tonight. You will go nowhere alone, not until we know what he’s planning. His is a vengeful nature and he does not like to lose.”
“Lord Hardbury! Please!” cried Lady Treadgold, bustling in. “You are frightening the girls.”
“They should be frightened. That man is a menace, and you, Lady Treadgold, wanted one of them to marry him.”
“It would be a good match for either one. You cannot argue with that.”
Guy held up his hand. “I already have.”
