Chapter 17

Chapter

Seventeen

" H ow dare you interrupt my fiancée and me while we are having an intimate exchange?" Had the situation with Mr. Venzellons not been so horrific, Genevieve would have laughed. But she could not. This was no trivial matter to sweep under an Aubusson rug.

She climbed to her knees, the raised voices of Lord Tyndall and Mr. Venzellons somewhere to her left. Using a small table that sat beside the chaise lounge, she lifted herself up, covering her bottom that Mr. Venzellons had exposed.

Shame washed through her that she'd managed to put herself in such a vulnerable position. Would she be forced to marry him now? She didn't want to be anywhere near him.

She looked at Lord Tyndall and Mr. Venzellons, arguing nose to nose. Her ears were ringing, and it took several moments before she heard their conversation.

"I've compromised her. Lady Genevieve will marry me and no one else."

"The hell she will. I'll see you on a field of honor before I allow her to marry a fortune-hunting, rapist foreigner such as yourself."

Mr. Venzellons scoffed. "You have no choice, Lord Tyndall. If you wanted her for yourself, maybe you should have snuck her away from the ball like I did. I find one must make the most of the situations presented to them, and I could not wait for her to decide to marry me. I've never been a patient man. I take what I want, and now I'll have a duke's daughter as my wife."

Lord Tyndall's fist smacked quickly and hard into Mr. Venzellons's nose. Venzellons stumbled back, but Lord Tyndall wasn't satisfied with that. He followed him to the floor, punching relentlessly into Venzellons's face.

Genevieve stared, unable to move, before she could not stand the sound of bone hitting bone a moment longer.

She reached for Lord Tyndall, trying to pull him off. "Stop, Beckett. Come away. He's not worth your wrath."

"The hell he isn't." Another punch landed on Mr. Venzellons's face, and this time, the man became limp.

Genevieve gasped. "Oh, my," she said, covering her mouth. "You've killed him."

"I haven't killed him." Lord Tyndall stood, wiping his bloodied hand against his coattails. "But I should have." He turned to her, guiding her toward the door. "Come, I'll escort you home. You're not fit to return to the ball. We'll have to sneak out so no one will see you."

She reached up and realized her wig was askew. She tried to straighten it and check her attire, but somehow, between their tussle on the floor, her bodice had ripped, and her corset and shift were showing.

"Oh, Lord Tyndall, I do apologize. I didn't know I was in such disarray."

"Come, we must leave." His lordship escorted her out of the room, taking her through the back gardens and toward the mews. Thankfully, his lordship's carriage was lined up along the road, and he helped her into the vehicle before talking to his driver and giving directions.

The carriage dipped as he stepped into it and came to sit beside her. He pulled her into his arms, and she was glad for his comfort. She tried to clutch her gown together, but there was no use. It was ripped and would need repairing, if possible.

"What happened, Genevieve?"

She frowned, looked out the window, and watched as the streets of Mayfair passed them by. "I do not know. He asked me to go for a stroll, and then the next minute, he was forcing me into that room at the back of the house. I requested he return me to the ball, but he wanted a kiss."

"A kiss? He asked you to kiss him?" Lord Tyndall's voice did not sound right. It shook and was deeper than she had ever heard it before. Was he angry with her for putting herself into such a compromising position? It wouldn't be the first time she had done so this Season.

"You think I brought on what happened to me, do you not? Blame me for wanting Mr. Venzellons to ask me to be his wife."

"I do not blame you at all for what occurred this evening. Mr. Venzellons had no right to touch one inch of your body. Nevertheless, try to kiss you or try other things. I do not know what he would have done had I not found you."

She turned and looked up at Lord Tyndall. Tears made him blurry to look at, and he clasped her jaw, tilting her face up. "Your lip is swollen and cut. Let me see if you've hurt any of your teeth."

She tentatively smiled, and he examined her. "There is no damage to your teeth. Lucky for me, I'm quite fond of your smile."

His eyes widened, and she reached up, pulling his hand from her face and holding it in her lap. "I'm glad. I thought I may have cracked my front tooth when I fell on the floor."

"The bastard ought to be strung up for what he attempted. If I'd been only a minute later."

"I know enough of the opposite sex that, unfortunately, I do know what would have happened had you not found me. Thank you, Beckett. But it doesn't change the fact that if Mr. Venzellons goes to my parents and tells them what's happened, I will be forced to marry him. For all of his horrible actions this evening, he only wants a duke's daughter for his wife. I'll be nothing but a trophy to him, a very wealthy addition to his life. I can see that now."

"Your parents would never force you to marry anyone."

"No, but if he lies and says he did more than you allowed him to, then I will have no choice. They will think there could be a child, and no matter the hurt to me or how much they love me, they will force me to become his wife." Genevieve sniffed. The thought of Mr. Venzellons—after his atrocious actions this evening—becoming her husband made her shiver in disgust.

She reached for Lord Tyndall, clasping the lapels of his coat. "I cannot marry him, Beckett. What am I going to do? I'll be ruined if anyone finds out that we were alone and that I refused his offer of marriage. I'll bring shame to my family. We'll all be ruined. I'll never find a husband, and my parents will ship me off to the country, never to be seen again. I'll…"

"Enough, Genevieve. Stop, you're starting to panic, which will not help anyone. You will not be forced to marry Mr. Venzellons. Over my deceased and decaying body, would I ever allow such an outcome for you."

"Can you speak to my parents? They love you, and they'll listen to you, perhaps more than they will to me. No matter what Mr. Venzellons says. If you tell them the truth and support me, they may allow me to continue on with the Season if Mr. Venzellons does not set out to ruin me."

"I'll not allow him to ruin you. Your parents have been nothing but supportive of me since I lost my own. No matter how often you and I have disagreed, I will not allow that American to have you."

"Thank you, Beckett. My parents will see sense and do what's right."

"Well, of course they will, Genevieve. They will have no choice because I've instructed the driver to head toward Gretna, and we'll be married instead."

"Excuse me?" She fumbled for purchase, unable to comprehend what he was saying. "You cannot marry me. We don't even like each other very much. We argue, and you have a tendency to tell me what to do far too often."

"Your brother is my best friend, and I'll not have his sister ruined, nor will his family name be besmirched. I'll marry you, and then that slimy American can go back to America and stay there."