another ten minutes, then slowed to a stop in front of the town house. Kate peered out of the window, noting that there seemed to be an unusual number of lights burning in the windows. Her hopes began to sink.
“Will you tell him?” she asked, turning around and pleading with her eyes.
“He’ll certainly need to be apprised.”
“I understand. But will you tell him everything?”
Ben shook his head, finally understanding the true nature of her question. “I’m sure he’d rather not know everything, nor do I care to inform him. We’ll tell him only what we must, all right?”
She nodded, wondering how she’d get out of this fix. Truth be told, she’d be happier if Robert didn’t know anything about the evening at all. He’d only start asking the same questions that Ben had, wondering why anyone would go to such lengths for a simple robbery. But at the same time, she wanted to stay safe…oh, there was no easy answer.
Winters opened the carriage door, and Kate steeled herself for a very long walk to her brother’s front door.
Kate had resigned herself to meeting her brother at the front door. She was not prepared, however, to have the door opened by Robert, his friend Frederick Northing and Charlotte. Just beyond them, sprawled out in a chair, was Charlotte’s father, the Earl of Tyndale. Charlotte’s chaperone, Kate supposed. Apparently her brother felt he might need reinforcements.
“Where the hell have you been?” Robert barked.
Kate had never heard her jovial brother speak in such a tone—not even when, at the tender age of eight, she’d glued the soles of his riding boots to his bedroom floor. She felt immediately guilty. It wasn’t her fault that she’d nearly been abducted, but she had taken her sweet time getting back home. She opened her mouth to reassure him of her safety, but it was at this moment that he spotted Ben standing beside her.
“You bloody bastard!”
Before Kate knew what was happening, Robert leaped out the door to tackle Ben, and the two of them ended up rolling round in the front lawn, fists flying.
“Robert! Robbie! Stop—you don’t understand!” Her pleas had no effect as Robert took another swing at Ben, who retaliated by planting his fist in her brother’s stomach.
She turned to Frederick to plead, “Can you make them stop?”
“Why would I want to do that? Seems justified if you ask me.”
“Charlotte?” Kate’s face was desperate as she turned to her brother’s fiancée, not fathoming how the petite girl could possibly stop the two large men from maiming each other. “Charlotte, please make them stop, if you can. Ben did nothing wrong—he saved my life.”
Charlotte considered this for a moment, and then nodded and turned to Robert. Without raising her voice, she said, “Robert…Robert…you have to stop. Kate needs you to listen.”
He looked up at her, giving Ben enough time to shove him off and pin him down to the ground.
“Oh, no! Don’t you start being unreasonable, Benjamin Sinclair! Get off him!” Charlotte was truly angry now and added emphasis to her words by grabbing the nearest object, a book, and hurling it at Ben’s head with all her might. Luckily for his already tender head, she missed, but the noise of the book hitting the ground was deafening.
Kate was the first to break the stunned silence. “Well, Charlotte, I didn’t suppose that you really would be able to stop them. Appears I underestimated you.”
Charlotte smoothed her gown and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, serenity, dignity and composure restored. “Yes, you did. Now first things first—are you all right, Kate? Tell us what happened. And you,” she said, fixing Ben with an imperious glare as he rose from the ground, “don’t interrupt.”
Ben nodded curtly, although he and Robert continued to glower at each other, and Kate began to answer questions.
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