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“It is Viscount Newell now,” he said with a small smile, his attempt at being charming.
Memoires swirled in the air, and it was with a sense of shock she realized he roused no emotions inside. “Why did you follow me, Lord Newell?”
“You look beautiful, Mina,” he said softly. “I have missed you.”
Missed her?They had not seen each other in almost eight years. The man was ridiculous. “I am Miss Fernsby to you, my lord, and I would appreciate being alone. That is why I escaped out here.”
Regret slashed across his handsome face. “I wanted a moment with you in privacy. There are so many things I have longed to say to you.”
“There is nothing that we could talk about, my lord, that requires privacy.”
“Will you give me a chance to atone?” he asked, voice suddenly turned ragged.
Shocked, she could only stare at him. “There is nothing to atone for. You and I were merely casual acquaintances a few years ago. You decided you were too good to marry a girl with no fortune or connections, and I was resourceful enough to cosh you over the head with a chamber pot ending our association.”
He took a couple of steps forward. “Please, Mina—”
“Miss Fernsby,” she said with a tight smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I will leave the gardens to you.”
“Please, Mina, I have thought about you over the years and to see you here tonight, looking so lovely. I would like you to give me another chance.”
“That is utter nonsense, my lord,” Mina snapped, hurrying forward, wanting to escape this dreadful scene.
She did not get the chance to skirt pass him for he grabbed her hands and hauled her up against him. “Unhand me at once!”
He controlled himself with a visible effort, setting his teeth “Do you know how much I have regretted—”
Fury surged through her, and she slapped him, crying out at the sting against her palm. Still, he did not release his hold but tightened his grip further. Mina almost fainted when he lowered his head as if to kiss her. With an alarmed gasp, she leaned away from him, dazedly thinking it comical the way he bent low above her.
“By God, you will unhand her this instant,” a voice said, echoing with such cold menace she did not immediately recognize the speaker.
Lord Newell stiffened. “This is a private matter between me—”
“And a lady under my protection.”
“Release me, my lord,” she whispered, suddenly feeling mortified to be caught with him like this, through no fault of her own.
Thankfully he complied and turned to face an icily composed Colin. Mina felt uncertain as she stared between the two men.
His thin lips curled in a sneer. “As you are her protector and also presumably seeking a wife, I gather she is your lightskirt.”
Mina gasped, horrified at the insult.
“You will name your seconds,” Colin said calmy as if discussing the weather.
Mina almost fainted. A duel? He was willing to duel over her. What madness was this? “There will be no duel,” she said stricken. “Such talk would create the greatest of scandals!”
“You will apologize to the lady,” Colin said, as if she had not spoken, pinning an unrelenting stare at her former beau. “Or we will meet over a brace of pistols, and I am a crack shot. While I’ll not kill you, I’ll ensure you live your days with keen regret.”
The viscount paled and narrowed his gaze at Colin. Finally, in the tense silence, he said, “Should I do so, it will be done privately. My mistaken provocation was not intended to offend you.”
Colin’s mouth curved with casual menace. “I believe you are correct, Miss Fernsby. I shall settle this score in another manner, one far more expedient.”
Before she could understand his intent, he stepped forward and slammed his fist into the viscount’s gut. The man doubled over, taking gasping breaths. When the man lurched upright, Colin slammed that fist into his face. The viscount crumbled alarmingly to the ground in what seemed like a dead faint.
She sniffed, straightening her shoulders. “That was foolish of you. Why would you threaten this man with a duel!”
“He offended you,” Colin snapped.
