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Page 27 of A Wife for the Beast (Scandals and Second Chances #6)

Wellington's growling had increased in both volume and intensity, and Evangeline could see that the dog was preparing to defend her regardless of the odds against him.

The sight of this loyal animal ready to face danger on her behalf filled her with both gratitude and terror at the thought of what these men might do to him if violence erupted.

"What do you want?" she demanded, abandoning pretense in favor of direct confrontation. "Who sent you, and what message are you supposed to deliver?"

"Well, now we're making progress," the second man said with satisfaction. "The message is simple enough. Your current husband might not be the best choice for a lady of your aspirations. There are other gentlemen who might prove more suitable to your long-term interests."

The suggestion that she should abandon her marriage in favor of some alternative arrangement filled her with such fury that for a moment she forgot to be afraid of her increasingly precarious situation.

"You are mistaken if you believe I have any interest in abandoning my marriage or my husband for the convenience of cowards who send hired ruffians to threaten women on public roads."

"Ruffians?" The first man's tone grew noticeably colder at her characterization of their behavior. "That's rather insulting, Your Grace. We're just trying to help you understand that certain changes might be inevitable regardless of your personal preferences in the matter."

"The only thing that will be inevitable is your arrest for accosting a peer's wife if you do not remove yourselves from my presence immediately."

Her defiant response seemed to exhaust their patience with diplomatic approaches, and she saw them exchange glances that suggested they were prepared to abandon verbal persuasion in favor of more direct methods of making their point.

It was at that moment that Wellington launched himself at the nearest man with the sort of protective fury that spoke of deep loyalty and courage far exceeding his size.

The dog's attack was both unexpected and effective, sending the first assailant stumbling backward with a cry of pain and alarm as sharp teeth found their mark.

"Call off your dog right now!" the second man shouted, reaching inside his coat for what was undoubtedly a weapon intended to deal with such resistance.

Evangeline had no intention of calling off her only protection, and instead began running toward Ravenshollow Manor with the desperate hope that she might encounter assistance before these men could recover from Wellington's intervention.

Behind her, she could hear shouts and curses that suggested the dog was continuing to harry her attackers with the sort of persistent courage that might well cost him his life.

She had covered perhaps half the distance to safety when the sound of approaching hoof beats announced the arrival of what she desperately hoped would prove to be rescue rather than additional threat.

The sight of Lucian thundering down the road on his black stallion, his scarred features set in lines of murderous fury, filled her with such relief that her knees nearly buckled beneath her.

He took in the situation with the sort of tactical assessment that his military training had made instinctive, noting her obvious distress, Wellington's continued engagement with one of the attackers, and the weapon that the second man was attempting to draw from concealment.

What followed was a display of violence so swift and efficient that it left Evangeline gasping with shock at the transformation of her husband from gentleman to lethal predator.

Lucian dismounted while his horse was still moving, his walking stick becoming a weapon in his hands as he closed the distance to the armed man with predatory grace.

The confrontation lasted perhaps thirty seconds, though it seemed like hours to Evangeline's overwrought nerves.

When it ended, both attackers were on the ground—one unconscious from the blow that had felled him, the other writhing in pain from injuries that would ensure he remembered this encounter for months to come.

"Wellington, come," Lucian commanded, and the dog immediately abandoned his harassment of the fallen men to position himself protectively beside Evangeline. "Are you hurt?" he demanded, his hands moving over her with gentle efficiency as he checked for signs of injury.

"No, I am unharmed, though I fear I might have been in considerably more difficulty if Wellington had not intervened when he did."

"Good dog," Lucian said absently, his attention focused primarily upon ensuring her continued well-being while keeping watch over their subdued attackers.

"Now then," he continued in a voice that had dropped to the deadly quiet she associated with his most dangerous moods, "suppose you tell me who sent you and what message you were instructed to deliver. "

The conscious attacker, clearly recognizing that his situation had deteriorated beyond any hope of successful completion of his mission, proved remarkably forthcoming about the details of his employment.

"Viscount Pembroke hired us," he gasped through what appeared to be considerable pain. "He asked us to frighten Her Grace a bit, make her understand that her marriage might not be permanent. He told us to inform her that there were other options available if she proved reasonable."

"Other options," Lucian repeated with silky menace. "How thoughtful of my cousin to provide such alternatives. And what was to happen if my wife proved unreasonable?"

The man's silence was more eloquent than any verbal response could have been, confirming that Pembroke's instructions had extended beyond mere intimidation into the realm of actual violence against Evangeline's person.

"I see," Lucian said with the sort of calm that somehow seemed more terrifying than rage would have been.

"And now you will deliver a message from me to my cousin.

You will tell him that any further attempts to involve my wife in his schemes will result in consequences that he may find difficult to survive. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Your Grace. Perfectly clear."

"Excellent. Now remove yourselves from my lands before I decide that a more permanent solution to this problem might prove necessary."

***

The sight of Evangeline running toward him with obvious terror while two strange men were pursuing her and Wellington was fighting desperately to protect her, had triggered something so primitive and violent in Lucian's nature that rational thought had temporarily ceased to function.

Every instinct bred into him by years of warfare had screamed for immediate, overwhelming retaliation against anyone who dared threaten what was his.

The fact that Edmund had escalated from verbal threats to actual physical danger against Evangeline filled him with a rage so pure that it threatened to consume every vestige of civilized behavior he had painstakingly maintained since his return from the war.

His cousin had crossed a line that no gentleman should ever cross, and the consequences of such transgression would be both swift and memorable.

Yet beneath the fury lay a terror so profound that it made his hands shake as he checked Evangeline for injuries.

He had come so close to losing her—to losing the one person who had brought light back into his dark existence, that the mere thought of what might have happened left him nauseated with reaction.

The efficiency with which he had dealt with their attackers spoke of skills he had hoped never to employ again in civilian life, yet he felt no regret for the violence he had inflicted upon men who would harm an innocent woman for money.

Some actions transcended the bounds of civilized discourse and required responses that civilized society preferred to ignore.

Watching Evangeline compose herself after such a traumatic experience, seeing the way she controlled her fear and maintained her dignity even in the aftermath of genuine peril, filled him with admiration that bordered on reverence.

She possessed courage that many men would envy, combined with a strength of character that adversity seemed only to refine rather than diminish.

"We should return to the Manor immediately," he said once he was satisfied that she had suffered no physical harm from her ordeal. "And we need to discuss the implications of Edmund's latest escalation."

"Indeed, we do," she agreed with the sort of grim determination that suggested her experience had strengthened rather than weakened her resolve to resist Pembroke's schemes.

"Though I confess myself grateful for Wellington's intervention and your timely arrival. Moreover, I would also like to apologise for not having a chaperone with me as I was supposed but I did not think the walk to the village would be dangerous.”

The dog in question was staying close to her side, clearly understanding that his protective duties had been successfully completed but remaining alert for any sign that further defense might be required.

Lucian found himself experiencing genuine gratitude toward an animal whose loyalty and courage had potentially saved his wife's life.

"Wellington proved himself a worthy member of our household today," he observed, noting the way the dog's presence seemed to provide Evangeline with continued comfort.

"Though I suspect we cannot rely upon canine protection to deter future attempts at intimidation. Therefore, I would like you not to go anywhere without a chaperone again.”

"No, we cannot only rely on a dog and I shall definitely never go out alone again but we must take more active measures to ensure that Edmund's schemes are defeated before they can cause additional harm."

Her matter-of-fact acceptance of the need for decisive action impressed him with its lack of feminine hysteria or demands for impossible guarantees of future safety.

She understood that they were now engaged in a war of sorts, and she was prepared to fight rather than surrender to their enemy's demands.

The ride back to Ravenshollow Manor passed in relative silence, both of them absorbed in contemplation of the day's events and their implications for the future.

Yet Lucian found himself acutely aware of Evangeline's presence beside him, grateful beyond measure that Edmund's escalation had not resulted in the loss of the woman who had become far more precious to him than mere convenience or duty could explain.

The confrontation with hired ruffians had crystallized certain realities that he could no longer ignore or deny.

His feelings for his wife had evolved far beyond respectful appreciation into something that resembled genuine devotion, and the thought of losing her to Edmund's machinations—or worse, to actual violence—was simply unbearable to contemplate.

Whatever the cost, whatever the risk to his own welfare, he would protect Evangeline from his cousin's malice.

She had become the center of his existence in ways that he was only beginning to understand, and he would not allow Edmund's greed and desperation to destroy the only happiness he had known since his return from war.

The future would undoubtedly bring additional challenges as Edmund's schemes could grow more desperate and more dangerous.

But today had proven that he and Evangeline could face such challenges together, supported by loyalty and courage that transcended the practical considerations that had originally brought them together.

Perhaps their marriage of convenience was indeed becoming something more substantial than either had initially anticipated. And perhaps, Lucian thought with cautious hope, it might yet prove strong enough to withstand whatever trials lay ahead.