A Dangerous Collaboration by Deanna Raybourn

Author:Deanna Raybourn [Raybourn, Deanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-03-11T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER

12

I dared not knock; such noise might rouse the household. But neither could I retire to my room without knowing precisely what sort of damage the Templeton-Vanes were inflicting upon one another. Stoker had the advantage of inches and weight, but the viscount was older and frequently armed. I wrapped my nightdress about my legs and seated myself on the stone step, awaiting the outcome. I harbored no illusion they were fighting over me. I might have provided the spark, but the tinder was old and dry. This battle had been brewing from the cradle, and—truth be told—I was rather glad they were finally getting on with it.

Few sounds penetrated the stout oak door. I heard breaking glass and a long groan—whose I could not have guessed. This was followed by the sound of splintering wood and an odd gurgling noise, as if someone were being strangled with the belt of his dressing gown, I decided.

At long last, silence reigned, and I rose, shaking out the folds of my nightdress. I knocked softly upon the door, and after an impossibly long time, it was answered. Stoker sat upon the hearth, covered in ashes and broken glass with a small knife stuck into his arm, while Tiberius attempted to staunch the flow of blood from his nose. One of his eyes was swollen nearly shut, and his left arm dangled at his side.

“I believe you have suffered a dislocation,” I pointed out helpfully.

“Nothing he hasn’t done to me before,” Tiberius returned with a lowering glare at his brother.

“I told you I would remedy it,” Stoker rasped. He rolled onto all fours and levered himself up after a moment, staggering only a little. Without preamble, he grasped his brother by the neck and waist and slammed his lordship’s shoulder into the bedpost, setting the joint neatly back into its socket with a growl from the viscount.

“Now, what about this?” Stoker demanded, gesturing towards the knife still quivering in his arm.

“The merest scratch,” the viscount assured him. “That knife is hardly more than a child’s toy.”

Stoker curled his lip as he tightened his fist, but before he could lay hands on his brother again, I grasped the knife by the handle and jerked it free. Stoker smothered a howl of pain, and I saw Tiberius’ eyes light with pleasure.

“Do it again. I like it when he screams.”

“Mind your manners or I will use it on both of you,” I warned them.

“How you do tempt me,” Tiberius murmured.

“Is there no end to your flirtations?” I demanded.

“Where you are concerned, never,” he assured me.

I wiped the knife blade clean upon Tiberius’ dressing gown. “I am keeping this,” I told him as I slipped it into my pocket. “I cannot trust that you won’t hit something vital the next time.”

“My dear Veronica, if I meant to wound him properly, I would have.”

“You did not have to stab him,” I pointed out.

“Of course I did,” Tiberius returned patiently. “It is a widely known fact that the mentally defective are impervious to all but the sharpest pain.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.