Anne Barbour by A Man of Affairs

Author:A Man of Affairs
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“Oh, Seth!" sobbed Eden, so grateful to behold him at that moment that she did not pause to wonder at his sudden appearance. Seth bent over Bel, his face white with a primal fury. He delivered another blow before grasping Bel by the throat, throttling him with both hands. He lifted his brother from the floor and slammed him back again until the footman, galvanized to action, restrained him with some effort. Seth rose, his breath coming in harsh gasps. After contemplating his brother's supine form for a moment, he swung to Eden. Placing an arm about her shoulders, he drew her toward him, cupping her head in one hand.

"My God, Eden, are you all right?" He bent to examine the bruise that was already forming on her cheek.

"Yes, but Zoë..."

Seth glanced indifferently at Zoë, still standing in frozen silence. "She seems to have suffered no harm," he said, his eyes again on Eden.

On the floor, Bel stirred. Blood was streaming from his nose, and he groped in his pocket for a handkerchief. Pressing it to his face, he struggled to a sitting position. Somewhat to Eden's surprise, he did not evince any desire to get to his feet, nor did he display an intent to retaliate. In fact, a muffled snort of laughter emerged from behind the handkerchief.

"Did you leave your snow-white palfrey parked outside, Seth? Lord, if you make it a habit to rescue any more maidens in distress, they'll be putting up a stained glass window in your honor at Westminster Abbey."

He held out a hand to the footman standing by in some bemusement, and after a questioning glance at Seth, from whom he received a permissive nod, the servant assisted Bel to his feet.

Seth raised his fists as though he would strike Bel again, but at a gasp from Eden, he halted.

"I would very much like to kill you." Seth's words were spoken in the softest of tones, but the ice in them chilled Eden to the bone. Zoë, too, shivered. "Repeat the offense," Seth continued, "and I certainly shall."

Bel's response was another brief gust of laughter—albeit shaken, noted Eden. After one look at Seth's face, white and set and undoubtedly murderous, Bel pushed past the footman, and, the handkerchief still pressed to his face, lurched from the little alcove.

Eden glanced at Seth, and once more a moment of communion passed between them. Eden felt as privy to the turmoil raging within him as though she could read through his eyes into his soul. She knew, moreover, that Seth was aware of the emotions that were tumbling about in her own mind—even though she was unable to sort them out herself. Uppermost was gratitude, certainly, and outrage at Bel's behavior, but beneath them lay a deep acknowledgment of the urge that had prompted Seth to react so unthinkingly and so violently on her behalf.

His fingers traced the burgeoning mark on her cheek, and hers went up to caress them in a feather-light touch. Abruptly, she swung away to go to Zoë, who had begun to cry.

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