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“No,” Rathmore gritted back, cocking his fist for another hit. “Charlie is a complete innocent. Or she was until you defiled her.”
Raithe thought back to that afternoon when she’d lain on his bed, legs apart. He had defiled her, but it had been of mutual desire. “And I’ve assured you that I will correct the matter.”
Rathmore hit him again. “I don’t want her to marry you. That’s the problem. You’re not nearly good enough for her and—”
Raithe grimaced. Well, that was the truth.
“Gentlemen,” Mr. Moorish called from the door. “May I assist in some way?”
Craven and Crestwood each held his arms, not that he planned to go anywhere. “No, sir. We’re fine. They’re just releasing some pent-up irritation with me.”
He felt Craven relax. “Balstead has agreed to wed Charlie.”
Mr. Moorish stepped further into the room. “Did he agree because you’re hitting him?”
Crestwood let out a short, harsh laugh. “No, Mr. Moorish. But he did agree because he’s been less than honorable.”
Mr. Moorish tapped his foot on the plush carpet. “Then I insist you cease.”
“He deserves it,” Rathmore bit out.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Moorish’s voice rose with a sharpness that surprised Raithe. It must have surprised the other men too because their hands dropped. “I am not the fool you think me to be.” He stepped to Raithe’s side as Crestwood cleared out of his way. “I am aware of the shenanigans that have gone on in my house. I was young and in love and you’ve all done the honorable thing so I have allowed it to pass.” His finger rose in the air. “Would you prefer that I treated each of you this way?”
Silence met his words.
He turned toward Raithe. “You intend to marry her?”
“Yes,” Raithe answered.
“You have an affection for her?”
He ran a hand through his hair. There was no point denying it any longer. “Yes, sir.”
Mr. Moorish lowered his voice. “You will be true to her?”
He couldn’t imagine ever touching another woman after Charlie. “Of course.”
He gave a single nod. “Then you’d best go tell her so. She left crying and I think those words might provide her with a great deal of comfort.”
He winced. “Crying?” He straightened, hating the idea that she hurt. That he’d hurt her. “Where?”
“Toward the beach. Go.” Then he lifted his finger again and pointed to the other men. “And since they are engaged, we’ll leave them to it. You have your own brides to attend and your own actions to make amends for.”
He drew in a deep breath. “There will be no more fighting in my house. It is a behavior I don’t tolerate in my sailors and I will not allow amongst my sons-in-law. You take your squabbles elsewhere. Am I clear?”
The men nodded, Rathmore looking at the floor as Craven shrugged a shoulder. “Apologies, Mr. Moorish.”
“Call me Tom.” Then he pointed at Raithe. “Now go. Before Charlie finds any more trouble. That girl has a penchant for it, to be certain.”
He nodded as he left the three men with their father-in-law. He smiled as he thought of the tongue-lashing that was still to come. It was good to know even a duke could be put in his place.
He made his way out of the house, skidding down the path. He could only hope that Charlie had headed for the hideaway. It was the perfect private spot for the conversation they needed to have.
But as trotted along the path to the beach, it wasn’t Charlie he found. Instead, he saw three men pushing crates across the beach. Backlit by moonlight, they hauled them up into one of the upper caves.
His heart hammered with fear. If they were here, then where was the woman he loved?
Chapter Fourteen
