She shook her head. “It’s too late.”
“No.” They were moving toward the doors to the hall. “It isn’t too late. I refuse to accept that.”
She tried to plant her feet but he overpowered her and her feet tangled in her skirts. He dragged her against him, pulling her toward the doors. “Walter. Stop. I don’t want to dance anymore.”
“Neither do I. You and I need to talk about several subjects, all of which require privacy.”
That filled her with fear. She did not want to be alone with this man at this moment or any. He might ruin her. Anger emanated off him in waves and she attempted to pull away again. “No. I must insist you return me to my family.”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t been alone with him. I see how comfortable you are touching him.” He spun her right out the doors. She didn’t have much choice, glancing around him she met Blake’s gaze, which was fixed on her. Just before her view of Vice would be cut off, she mouthed a single word. Help. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d come. Somehow, she knew Vice would always come for her.
Walter stopped dancing, dragging her down the hall. “I love you, Ada. I’ve loved you for years.” He pulled faster. “I wish I’d stayed and married you, but don’t tell me I’m going to lose you to that dandy of a lord. I need to prove to you that I’m the better man.” He began trying doors as they continued down the hall, his hand about her upper arm in a tight grip. She tried to tug away but he was too strong.
Desperation rolled off him in waves, and fear made Ada choke out a sob. She grasped at his shirt, desperate to say anything that would make him change course. “You’re not losing me to him.” She attempted to pull him to a stop but once again failed. “He isn’t the marrying sort.” She knew the wo
rds were wrong the second they left her mouth. She did that when she was nervous.
And she felt the shift in Walter. He was a strong man, but his grip turned to stone. Walter pushed open a door, then pulled her inside, whipping her around. “Then why reject my offer? I would make you my wife.” And then he pulled her against his body and lowered his mouth toward hers. “Ada, I need to show you the depth of my affection.”
Everything inside her screamed in denial. She’d never kissed a man and this couldn’t be her first. Not like this. She knew Walter was hurt but that didn’t give him the right to take this from her. Her insides tightened as she yanked backward, dropped her shoulder, and heaved it into his stomach. She heard his whoosh of breath and for a moment she thought she was free.
Victory sang in her veins and, pulling back, she lunged for the door but he grabbed her sleeve and held tight even as the fabric ripped. “Ada,” he grated out. “We need to finish this conversation. I’m not done.”
She drew in a breath, still trying to squirm away as her dress made several more ripping sounds. “Let go,” she cried.
The door flew open nearly hitting her. She stopped, staring as Blake marched into the room. His face was drawn into tight lines, his chest puffed out. “You heard her. Let go.”
“This isn’t your concern,” Walter growled back. “Get out of here and let us work out-—”
Vice’s answer was to raise his fist and plant it directly into Walter’s nose. Suddenly, she was free and she stumbled to the side, bumping into the wall. Whirling about, she watched Vice hit Walter again. Walter tried to swing back but he missed and Blake raised his fist a third time. “Don’t,” she cried, raising her hand.
Blake held his fist in place. “He tried to hurt you.”
Trembling, she pushed off the wall. “He was hurting too.” Then she reached out a trembling hand to touch his arm. “No more violence. Please, Blake, just escort Mr. Conroy outside. It’s time for him to leave.”
Blake didn’t take his eyes off Walter as he grabbed the other man by the collar and began hauling him toward the door. “Stay here,” he barked. Walter was doubled over, holding his nose, which poured out blood, as Blake dragged him from the room. She looked at her dress. The sleeve ripped off and hung down her arm. What was she going to do?
* * *
Vice growled with satisfaction as he tossed Conroy into the gravel drive. “I don’t want to see you anywhere near Ada ever again.”
Walter was still holding his nose, pinching it closed to stem the blood. “She’ll choose me, you know. In the end, she’ll choose me.”
“You’ve lost your wits. You just attacked her.” Vice clenched his fists again, wishing he’d hit the man several more times. Only Ada’s request held him back.
“She understands. You heard her. And she understands you too. You know what she said? You’re not the marrying kind. She doesn’t want to marry you.” Walter stumbled to the side, hailing one of the servants. “My carriage.”
Vice clenched his jaw but inside his stomach sank. Of course Ada thought he wasn’t the marrying kind. What woman of worth would want him?
He thought back to his list of accomplished women. All of them had been too preoccupied with their own successes to notice his deficiencies. That was the real reason he picked the experienced women with no strings attached. There was never a real connection with any of them.
Spinning about, he stomped up the steps, and back into the house. Making his way down the hall, he opened the door to the room where he’d left Ada. He could see now that it was a study with a large desk and shelves upon shelves of books. Ada stood exactly where he’d left her, hugging her arms about herself.
Any anger he might have felt melted. Her dress was terribly torn, her face streaked with tears.
Softly closing the door, he crossed over to her and gently pulled her into his arms. She melted into him.
“Blake,” she said, her voice trembling. “What am I going to do? Look at my dress.”