Alexandra stood in the open doorway, her candle held high. She saw Tony roll over on top of Douglas and smash his fist into his jaw. Douglas grunted in pain, brought up his knees and slammed them in Tony’s back, lurching up. Tony hit Douglas again, harder now, making his head snap back.
Alexandra howled. She quickly dropped the candle to a tabletop and leapt upon Tony’s back, pounding at his head with her fists, then jerking his hair. “Stop it, you brute! Let him alone!”
She pounded and pounded and jerked and jerked. Tony, so surprised by this unexpected onslaught that he froze, was quickly upended by Douglas. Both Alexandra and Tony went sprawling. Douglas grabbed Tony by his shirt and dragged him upright. He slammed his fist into his belly. Tony grunted, bending over, hugging his arms around himself. Suddenly, Melissande came flying through the air to leap upon Douglas’s back, wrapping her legs around his waist. She pounded her fists at his head, screaming right into his ear, “Leave him alone!”
Douglas felt his entire brain begin to vibrate. His ears were ringing. She was pulling his hair out, still screaming at him, right into his ear. Then, the other wife, the small one, was tugging madly at Melissande, jerking her off Douglas’s back. Both women went down together in a twist of white nightgowns and flying masses of hair.
Tony was still bent over, trying to regain his breath. Douglas felt as though he should be bald. His scalp throbbed from Melissande’s attack. He stood there, surveying the disaster. He watched as the small girl untangled herself from Melissande, rose, and rushed to him. Her face was white, her eyes dilated. She was trembling and panting.
He stood silent as a stone as her hands went from his shoulders to his chest, then to the length of his arms. He still didn’t move, didn’t say a word. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you? Please, tell me if you have pain.” Her fingertips skimmed lightly over his jaw and he jerked back just a bit. “Oh, forgive me, it’s tender, isn’t it? I’m sorry. It’s not broken, no, but he hit you very hard.”
Douglas shook his head, but otherwise he still didn’t move. For the life of him he couldn’t come up with one reason why he should move or say anything, for that matter. Her hands continued their journey over his body, feeling, lightly prodding. Finally, when she was about to drop to her knees and feel his legs, Douglas grabbed her wrists and pulled them together in front of her. He shook her to get her attention. He said very slowly, “I’m just fine. Leave me alone. Go feel him—your other husband.” He looked beyond her to Melissande, who was standing beside Tony, her long black hair an incredibly soft curtain that hid her face from him. Her soft hands were on Tony’s body.
Douglas stepped back from the second wife and looked toward the open doorway. He said quite calmly, “Hollis, please come in here.”
Hollis, not one ounce of dignity lighter, stepped into the den of chaos. He said very gently, “My lord, should you care to accompany me, the others may then attire themselves in more suitable garb. I will serve brandy in the drawing room and they may join us when they wish. Come now, my lord. That’s right. Come with me. All will be well.”
Douglas allowed himself to be led away. He felt oddly numb now, even though his scalp still throbbed and his ears were still ringing. Melissande had strong fingers and even stronger lungs. He felt he should be someone else; he didn’t want to be Douglas Sherbrooke because that poor fellow was an absurdity. He was a fool, a dunce, an ass, who’d nearly had all his hair pulled from his head and lost his bride. He heard himself say in a voice that didn’t resemble his at all, “But Hollis, that girl jumped on Tony. Why would she do that? He said he’d married her. I’ve never seen her before. Why would that little twit seek to rescue me?”
“Don’t concern yourself just now, my lord,” came Hollis’s soothing voice. “You must be pleased that she would try to protect you.”
“Protect me! Damnation, she looked ready to fight to the death.”
“Yes, my lord. It is fitting for her to do so. She is your wife, my lord, and your countess. Indeed, she has lived here for two days now and has gone along very well.”
Douglas said very firmly, “No, she isn’t my wife. That is quite impossible. I told you I’d never seen her before. Melissande is my wife. Her, I recognized. I will kill Tony for this.” Douglas paused in hi
s tracks, looking back over his shoulder. “Do you think if I leave that girl here she will kill Tony for me?”
“Probably not, my lord. Her violence was only brought on by his attack on you. Lord Rathmore is now subdued and thus she has achieved her aims. Come along now. Everything will look a bit differently in the morning.”
“I can’t sleep in the same bed with that strange girl, Hollis. I’m a gentleman. Since you allowed her to come into my house, I can assume, can I not, that she isn’t a possible mistress? You say she’s been here two days? No, I cannot like it or accept it. Even though she tried to kill Tony, I can’t sleep with her.”
“No, my lord. I understand your reasoning perfectly. Your sentiments are most commendable. Her Ladyship will appreciate your motives. Come along now. You need to rest and allow your mental parts to reassemble themselves.”
With silence and coffee, not brandy, Douglas’s mental parts quickly came together again, but that coming together built such rage in him that he choked on the coffee.
“I will have to kill him, Hollis.”
“Perhaps not, my lord. You must listen to Lord Rathmore first. You were—are—quite fond of him, you know.”
“Ah! There you are, you damned scoundrel!”
Douglas rose half out of his chair, only to feel Hollis’s hand firmly on his shoulder. He subsided.
But he didn’t want to. He wanted to go to bed and sleep for twelve hours, awaken and find that everything was as it should be. No, he wanted to kill his cousin.
Instead, Douglas, the man of normally fine-working mental parts and skilled strategies, said very calmly, “Tell me why you betrayed me.”
Tony’s hair still stood on end, the result of that other female’s attack. He was still wearing his dressing gown, now ripped beneath the right arm and hanging longer on one side than on the other. He kept his distance. “Will you listen to me without trying to kill me again?”
“I’ll listen. As for killing you, I dare say that will happen some morning soon at dawn.”
“God, Douglas, don’t talk like that! Damn, I didn’t mean it to happen, but it did.”
Hollis cleared his throat, saying gently, “Enough mea culpas, my lord. His Lordship is in need of facts. All this emotion is wearisome and not at all to the point.”
“I fell in love with Melissande the moment I saw her and she fell in love with me. I know all her faults, Douglas, faults you can’t begin to imagine, but I didn’t care. I understood her and I knew that I could handle her. We eloped. Upon our return to Claybourn Hall, the duke and I decided that I would wed Alexandra by proxy to you. She was willing and the duke was more than willing. Indeed, he had just heard his wastrel son had not only left England in the dark of night, he had also bequeathed his father a mountain of debts. The duke was frantic and thus agreed, for your settlement in addition to the one I made him would rescue him and his family from disgrace. Still, I wasn’t certain, Douglas, you must believe that, but there were so many good reasons for doing it, least of which Alexandra is lovely, she’s a lady, she’s not stupid, and you won’t have to go to London and start all over again to find another wife. You have one and she’s quite all right and here and you will get to know her and everything will be fine.