To Tame a Dangerous Lord (Courtship Wars 5)

He had already reached the bottom of the staircase by the time she came to the head. Madeline’s heart leapt to her throat and lodged there as she took stock of the struggle in the entrance hall. Three rough-looking men were conducting a savage assault on her brother and James.

One had Gerard pinioned by the throat while attempting to drag him out the front door. Across the way, James was struggling valiantly to keep the other two brutes at bay with his fists. The innkeep, however, was standing by, watching impotently, while a small crowd of customers had gathered to gawk in the open tavern door.

Just as James was felled hard to the floor, Rayne gave a shout and plunged into the fray, blows flying.

Gerard must have sneaked in another entrance, Madeline concluded, and so had the louts attacking him. Thank God, James had been watching for him, or they might have succeeded in seizing her brother and hauling him off.

As it was now, James was knocked out cold and Rayne had his hands full dealing with the two thugs, so there was no one to help Gerard. Outweighed by several stone, he was struggling futilely against the bruiser’s choking grip.

Madeline couldn’t shoot for fear of hitting Gerard, so she did the only thing she could think of. She scrambled down the stairs and flung herself at his attacker, pounding the brute’s shoulder and head with one fist and kicking his brawny legs with both her feet.

The man was so startled, he almost released his hold, but he abruptly recovered and began fending off her blows with a meaty fist. One swing contacted her right cheek, making her see stars as she stumbled backward.

Madeline gave a cry of pain but surged forward again at Gerard’s assailant, more determined than ever. She had no notion of time, merely the panicked, fiercely protective instinct to save her brother from harm, yet at least several moments passed before adamant hands gripped her and pulled her away.

Madeline gave another cry, this one of protest, as she felt her pistol being usurped from her grasp. The next instant Rayne was standing protectively in front of her, holding the gun’s muzzle to the brute’s temple, saying in a lethal voice, “If you are fond of living, you will release him.”

The ruffian froze at the threat, then quickly freed his captive and held up his hands.

Madeline also halted at the sight of her armed husband looking so deadly dangerous. Rayne had laid the other two assailants out on the floor, she saw, while Gerard had dropped to his knees and was doubled over at the waist, holding his throat and hacking as he gasped for breath.

Panting hard herself, Madeline sank down beside her brother. Rage and fear were flaring wildly through her blood, but relief was beginning to hold sway.

“Dear God, Gerard,” she implored, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, “are you all right?”

In addition to a reddening throat, his nose was dripping blood and his damaged left eye had begun to swell. Despite

his injuries, though, her brother nodded unsteadily and croaked, “I will be … in a moment….”

Gerard coughed again, then peered up at Rayne. “I say …” he rasped, “that was a smashing right … you gave that blighter. You must have … sparred at Gentleman Jackson’s club.”

Madeline felt a twinge of exasperation. It was just like her brother to ignore a brush with death in favor of admiring the skilled fighting form Rayne had displayed in demolishing his opponents.

“You must be Haviland,” Gerard added in a hoarse voice. “Thank you—you came at a very good time.”

“Don’t thank me, thank your sister,” Rayne replied grimly.

Gerard threw Madeline a feeble grin. “Thank you, dearest sister. You have my utmost gratitude.”

Rayne, on the other hand, cast a dark glance down at her. “I believe I told you to remain upstairs.”

She didn’t dignify his criticism with a response. He should have known that iron chains could not have kept her away when Gerard’s life was in danger.

As she helped her brother to stand, though, Rayne’s gaze fixed on her face, on the ripening bruise on her cheek.

“This bastard struck you,” he muttered as his free hand reached out to gently touch her cheek.

Rayne’s face was so dark with anger that Madeline flinched and drew back from him. “It doesn’t signify. Gerard is safe and that is all that matters.”

At her faint recoil, a different emotion flickered in Rayne’s blue eyes, something much like remorse. Dragging his gaze back to the miscreant, he tightened his grip on the pistol and pressed the muzzle harder against the man’s skull.

“Who sent you to apprehend Ellis?” he demanded in that same quietly lethal tone.

“’is lordship … Baron H’ackerby,” the fellow answered quickly, obviously not wanting to tangle with so formidable a nobleman.

Just then John James came awake with a groan. When the erstwhile footman abruptly pushed himself up on his elbow, prepared to rejoin the fight that had already ended, the innkeep at last involved himself in the contretemps and hurried over to help James to his feet.

Upon noting the gawking crowd gathered at the tavern door, Rayne brusquely told them to go about their business, then sent the innkeep a glance. “Have you a room where you can hold these louts, Mr. Pilling?”