stopped his pacing. “Was that ever in question?”
Olivia thought it best not to comment. But then, she heard the crunch of a shard of vase under Marcus’s heel and cringed.
Olivia watched as her brother knelt to pick up a fragment of his artifact. “Please tell me that’s not my Ming Dynasty vase in pieces on the floor?”
“All right,” she said slowly. “It’s not—” only to be silenced by a wave of his hand.
“Never mind that,” he huffed. “We have to get him back to his house.”
She and Marcus were studying the unmoving viscount when Gibbons reappeared in the doorway. “Lord Westin, Lady Olivia, his lordship, the Marquess of Huntsford is here.”
Nick processed the scene before him in less than two minutes. Then, he spent sixty seconds deciding whether he should turn and walk back out the door. His friend Marcus was staring at his butler, who was stifling a chuckle. What appeared to be the recently deceased Viscount Danfield was lying on the floor with pieces of pottery sprinkled around his head.
After years of acquaintance fostered through attending the same schools and the same endless society functions, Nick could well sympathize with the desire to hit Danfield over the head with whatever came to hand, yet he couldn’t help but wonder who was responsible for the attack. Marcus certainly appeared murderously angry, but his eyes glared daggers at the butler, who was showing no signs of sorrow at the loss of Danfield’s company in such a permanent manner. And as for the last person in the room…
The lady in the center of the fray made Nick forget everything else he’d seen. She was staring at him, her expression a mixture of surprise and something he couldn’t identify, couldn’t name—wasn’t sure he wanted to.
The butler finally broke the silence. “You requested earlier, my lord, that I show his lordship in immediately upon his arrival.”
“Would it not have been prudent to make sure our last guest had departed first?” Marcus asked.
“Perhaps if the two of you would refrain from rendering your guests immobile, such conflicts could be easily avoided,” Gibbons sniffed.
Nick’s head swiveled back and forth between the two combatants.
Before Marcus could retort, the gentleman on the floor decided to make a last, impressive rally. He struggled onto his elbows and groaned. “Wha-what happened?”
Nick waited to hear the explanation himself, but neither brother nor sister answered.
“You,” Danfield said, looking at the Lady Olivia. “You did this.” He remained propped on one elbow and used his free hand to massage the back of his head.
Every eye, including Nick’s, turned to look at the young woman who appeared to be trying to edge behind her brother. In spite of the seriousness of the moment, Nick felt a chuckle lodge in his throat. The dainty lady hardly looked capable of physical violence. But the evidence was rather irrefutable.
He didn’t know whether to applaud her handiness or say a prayer for his own well-being.
“It was a misunderstanding,” the young woman de fended.
“My…my mother will hear…” The words died as the butler slid his foot out to knock the man’s elbow from under him. Without the support, Danfield fell back to the floor, bumping his head again on the way.
The siblings and Nick turned to stare at the butler.
“He was starting to aggravate me,” the older man said with a shrug.
Marcus looked around at the occupants in the room. “Has everyone lost hold of their senses?”
“I still have mine, I think,” Nick said as he knelt over the viscount and raised the man’s eyelids one after another, looking at them intently.
At least he appeared to be still alive. “We should get him home before he wakes up again,” Nick suggested.
“I’ll have a carriage brought around,” the butler intoned, disappearing into the hallway.
After carrying the viscount to his carriage, Nick stood back while Marcus slipped several banknotes into the driver’s hands and whispered instructions. Seconds later, the coachman flicked the reins, and the conveyance rumbled down the road.
Nick dutifully followed the pair of siblings into a sitting room, curious to hear whatever explanation the lady had to offer. Not that he minded a bit of excitement, of course, provided he wasn’t the unconscious body on the floor.
Once in the room, Marcus’s sister, the Lady Olivia, curtsied to him again and began edging toward the door. “I’ll leave you two to yourselves. Surely, there is a great deal of catching up to be done.” She then practically ran toward the cracked opening and supposed safety.
“I think you should stay awhile.” Marcus’s voice stopped her hasty retreat.
“Whatever for?” Her tone suggested he would be wiser to simply let her walk away.
“Allow me first to make introductions.” Marcus turned toward Nick. “I hope you’ll forgive the rather odd circumstances you found upon your arrival and meet the cause of them, my sister, Lady Olivia.”
Nick took a few steps forward and bowed over her hand. “A pleasure,” he murmured, smiling to himself when she blushed.
Thick lashes framed her dark eyes, which widened as he spoke. She was more beautiful than he’d originally thought. As she stood close to the window, the sun streaming in made her hair seem as though the rich brown was shot through with threads of amber.
He was unaware he was still lightly holding her hand until she hastily withdrew it. The blush on her cheeks deepened, and Marcus’s sister glanced with apparent nervousness at him and then her brother.
“And, Olivia, this is Nick, my old friend and the new Marquess of Huntsford.”
Nick watched as she dropped a flawless curtsy.
“Well, I suppose I should leave you to your meeting, brother.” She briskly turned on her heel and this time made good her escape before her brother could stop her.
Nick was sad to see her go.
He turned back to Marcus, who was looking at the open door with a mix of harried resignation and amusement. Nick was familiar with the look—Marcus often wore it when they were in school together, while reading letters from his sister.
“Your sister is an interesting woman,” Nick commented.
Marcus stared at him for a long moment, then grinned. “Interesting is a good word. If she weren’t my sister I would maybe say troublesome…” Marcus let the sentence trail off.
“Are you implying there’s been more than one suitor found unconscious on your floor?”
His friend shook his head, “No, but I’ve fielded a fair amount of offers for her.”
Nick could understand that. Lady Olivia was a beauty.
