CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Alice led Giff to a back parlor where the servants were just finishing rolling up the carpet and pushing furniture against the wall. Her footman put his bag with the boxing gloves on a chair. A similar bag was on a small sofa.

How to begin? He raked a hand through his hair. "Right, then. Never having boxed with you before or seen you box, I would like to get an idea of your technique and strength."

Her finely arched brows were drawn together, but she nodded. "I understand. How do you want to start?"

"Well"—he grinned—"pretend I'm Normanby and you're hitting him." Palms facing out, Giff held up his hands. "Strike my hands as hard as you can." Alice appeared a bit uncertain, but made fists, keeping her thumb outside of her clenched hands and struck. The punch was harder than he'd thought it would be, but not as hard as he suspected she could hit. "You'll have to do better than that to break his nose." The next strike was more forceful. "You can do better than that. Picture his face." She punched so hard the force almost knocked Giff back a step. "That's better. Now punch his chin with the most powerful upper cut you have."

This time she did cause him to step back. Alice began hitting harder and faster. Soon he was wishing he'd worn his gloves. Her face was flushed with anger and hurt. Tears began running down her cheeks, and she started to sob. "How could he have done that to me?" The anguished words sounded torn out of her. Her arms dropped to her side. "Why me?"

The next thing Giff knew she was in his arms. He held her close, not wanting to let her go. "I do not know if it will make you feel better, but he didn't care who it was. He just wanted the money."

Alice gave a little hiccup and laid her head on his chest. The hairs at the back of her neck were damp. He wanted so much to kiss her, but that would have ramifications he was certain she was not ready for. "He was not honest about it."

She was correct. Many men needed to marry money, but a gentleman would be truthful, honorable about his needs and offer something in return. "No, he was not. If you ever do have the opportunity to strike him, don't let him know what you are going to do. You are quite strong, but he is larger."

"That is good advice." With her face against his coat, her voice was muffled.

Giff wondered how long it would be before someone came in and put a stop to him holding her. From the corner of his eye Worthington and his lady entered Giff's vision. "We can do this again if you would like." Placing his hands on her arms, he stepped back then held up one palm. "I think the next time I'll wear my gloves."

Alice glanced at his hand and up at him. Her blue eyes were still watery. "I did not mean to hurt you."

Giff was glad she'd had the strength to redden his hands. "I encouraged it." More than ever, he wanted to murder Normanby. "Do you feel better now?"

Although her cheeks were tear streaked, she smiled. "I do. It is rather amazing that hitting something can make one happier."

Again, there was a reason, other than exercise, for Jackson's salon. Giff took one of her hands. Her knuckles were red and chaffed and starting to swell. "You had better get some ice on these."

She winced. "They do hurt a little."

"Alice," Lady Worthington said. "St. Albans is correct. We should take care of your hands."

"Of course. I would not want them to swell." Alice glanced up at Giff. "Would you like to accompany me for a carriage ride this afternoon?"

He made a short bow. "I would indeed. Shall I meet you here?"

She nodded slowly. "Perhaps you would like to join us for tea at three o'clock as well."

More than almost anything in the world. "I will see you then."

Worthington's steady gaze met Giff's before the man left the parlor.

As Alice joined her sister, Giff realized how much her family loved and protected her. Lady Alice Carpenter had been no match for Normanby's deceit. Worthington could have kept the rogue at bay but hadn't had the information he needed to understand the danger. Other than knowing about the blackguard's mistress, Giff had only had intuition to go on until last night. The same as Ladies Mary and Theo. He pulled his jacket sleeves down. He'd make sure Alice was even more protected than before. He'd be damned if he'd allow anything to happen to her.

Williams, Alice's footman, walked Giff to the front door and bowed. "Thank you, sir."

"It was my pleasure." He donned his gloves and took his hat and cane. "Have an excellent day."

"I will, my lord. You as well."

The door closed behind him, and he headed home. Even the servants were protective of Alice. Still, it behooved him to find a way to keep track of Normanby. The man would soon be desperate, and desperate men were not to be trusted to behave in a reasonable manner.

* * *

By the time Alice reached her bedchamber, her dresser had a bowl of ice water ready. She placed her hands in it and jerked them out again.

"I know it is uncomfortable, but you will feel better later." Grace gently pushed Alice's hands back into the water. "I trust you have expended some of your hurt and anger."

Thanks to St. Albans, she had. "I did. Although, I am surprised Lord St. Albans allowed me to pummel him."

"He seemed to know just what you needed to do." Her sister's tone was thoughtful.

"He did." Alice had said she would like to hit Normanby. Yet, she had not thought St. Albans would allow her to vent her anger hitting him. "He is a very good friend."

"Hmm." Grace's tone indicated she did not believe he was merely a friend.

"He is interested in another lady." Alice wished he was not. She wished she had been able to get to know him before she sent him on his way. Before she had met Normanby.

"Oh?" Her sister met her eyes in the toilet table mirror. "Who would that be?

"I do not know. He has not confided in me, and I did not ask." Truth be told, she did not want to know.

Grace turned and looked at Alice directly. "Has he said anything about her?"

"Only that he had met her, and he seemed to be making progress." Whatever that meant.

"I see." Her sister glanced around the room. "Soak your hands for at least fifteen minutes. After that, I shall apply a cream." Grace left the room.

Why? She cut a glance at her maid. "I could apply the cream. Or you could do it."

"I suspect her ladyship has her reasons," Bertram said. "You will want to freshen yourself. I will get out a clean gown."

Alice looked in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, as was her face. She was also a little sticky. And hungry. Alice could not see the clock from where she was. "How long is it until luncheon."

"A good two hours. I'll have Cook send up something."

"Thank you." Alice's hands were numb, but the rest of her felt better than it had since the start of the Season. She hoped it was not because of St. Albans. She did not want to be hurt again. This time she feared her heart really would be broken.

After her hands had been well soaked and dried, she went to her sister's upstairs parlor and was waved to a chair. Grace held a jar of something green. "This will heal your hands in very little time."

She opened the container and an acrid smell wafted out. Alice wrinkled her nose. It had been years since she had needed it. "What is it exactly?"

"Horse liniment." Grace glanced at the jar and shrugged. "I do not know what is in it. My groom makes it."

"I am going to smell of it all day." Alice wondered if St. Albans would think it strange that she wore such a disgusting scent.

Grace grinned. "It is not that bad. The worst of the smell will dissipate within in a few hours." She worked the cream into Alice's hands. "You will be able to go with me on morning visits."

She wondered what, if anything, would be said about Normanby. She had to admit it was a little exciting knowing something only a few others did and most never would.

After luncheon, they arrived at Lady Brownly's house first and found a group of ladies already in attendance.

"Lady Worthington, Lady Alice, how good to see you," her ladyship greeted them. "Please have a seat."

After Alice had been served a cup of tea, Miss Connors said, "Do you know how Lord Normanby is doing? He appeared quite battered."

"No." Alice raised one brow. "How should I?"

The color in the other lady's cheeks deepened. "Excuse me. I thought you had been spending . . . I mean, you have been seen with him lately."

"Indeed?" Thank Heavens for Grace's insistence that Alice not show any partiality until she was certain of herself and him. "I dare say I have not been seen in his company any more than any other gentleman's."

The lady's mother glanced at them. "There, Susan. Did I not say there was nothing to your supposition?"

"Yes, Mamma." Miss Connors looked at her folded hands. "My lady, I apologize for my mistake."

"It is no matter." Alice breathed a sigh of relief. "Anyone can make an error." She hoped the lady would not throw her cap at the cad.

"Are you speaking of Lord Normanby?" another lady asked, her voice dripping with insincerity. "I think his nose was broken. Such a shame. He will not be quite so handsome as before." She popped a small biscuit into her mouth.

Alice wondered what he had done to the lady and was more than glad she was finished with him. She and Grace left when more guests arrived and went on to the next house where one lady expressed displeasure that some gentlemen were so ill mannered as to fight in a ballroom. Alice was pleased the incident had been, for the most part, dismissed by the ton. And that she had been present to depress any thoughts that she cared about Normanby. She did not want her name linked with his.

* * *

Normanby touched the plaster over his swollen nose. Thank God his stablemaster had been able to set it. What he wanted to know was who the hell had hit him and why. A knock came on the door and his valet entered. "My lord, a note came for you from Worthington House."

He held out his hand. It was probably Lady Alice worried about his health. He hadn't seen her in the ballroom as he'd been carried out, but she would have heard about it. As soon as he could rise, he'd ask her to marry him. He broke the seal and a second letter fell to the bed. Shaking out the letter he read it.

Normanby,

I have come into possession of information concerning your lack of resources and your betrothal to another woman. You are forbidden from approaching my ward Lady Alice Carpenter for any reason whatsoever.

Worthington

Normanby picked up the note and opened it. Lady Alice's words were like a sword being driven into this chest. Any hope he might have entertained about being able to coax her into eloping with him were ended. Still, there must be a way.

Another knock came on the door, it opened, and his valet entered again. "My lord, your solicitor is here to see you about the settlement agreements."

He did not want to deal with this now, but he had to keep up the fiction that he'd wed Miss Greenway. "Have him give you the documents and bring me a pen." He closed his eyes. "Never mind. I will get up."

"Yes, my lord." Bowing, his servant left the chamber.

He went to this desk and sharpened a pen. At least part would be done, and he could rest.

The footman returned and placed the papers on the desk. Normanby signed them and handed them back to the footman. "Give him my thanks for bringing them to me."

He had to come up with a plan to marry Lady Alice and soon. The only way to rid himself of Greenway and his daughter was to wed another. Normanby's head ached. He had to think of a scheme, but right now he needed sleep. Something would come to him. It always did. Thinking about Celeste would help ease his mind. She might even have an idea.