The Duchess War (Brothers Sinister #1)

Robert came half out of his seat, reaching back, even though she was yards away. She shoved at its head. He could see her lips move, see her slap it on the shoulder, but he couldn’t hear what she said.

“Here now,” the driver shouted behind her. “Don’t touch that animal! You heard the man—she’s one of us. I’ll have you up for assault if you lay hands on her again.” He gave another belly laugh.

Another one of the goats came up to her, stealthily reaching out its neck. Miss Pursling took a parasol from a nearby woman and whacked it.

“Assault! Assault and battery!”

Waves of laughter grew. Another whack with the parasol; yet another goat joined the fray. This one reached in and chomped at her hem. The blue fabric ripped, showing a hint of creamy petticoat.

And that was when Robert realized what was wrong. Nobody had moved to help her. They all surrounded her, watching, laughing. He found himself standing up, running down the aisle toward her.

“Animal or human?” the goat owner was shouting. “Ah, you see—we can tell the difference after all!”

The people around her were laughing at that fool—holding back, while Miss Pursling beat off the assault on her own. Robert shoved through the crowd, making his way up to the man.

“You think that’s assault?” he growled.

The man didn’t look behind him to see who was speaking. “What?”

Robert set his hand on one shoulder and forcibly turned the fellow around. “This,” he said. “This is what a bloody assault looks like.” So saying, he punched the man square in the jaw. The fellow’s eyes widened in surprise. He seemed to teeter in place for a bare moment. Then his eyes rolled up and he toppled over.

Robert turned away. “For shame,” he snapped to the gathered crowd. “Shame on all of you. Get those goats off that woman. Now.”

Minnie looked up at that. She’d been so busy fending off the goats that she hadn’t noticed the crowd closing in on her. But instead of looking relieved at the men who advanced on the goats, her head whipped from side to side. She went absolutely white. Robert saw her eyes roll up in her head.

If anyone had asked him before this night, he would have wagered good money that she had nerves of steel. He started through the crowd, but he was too late.

She fainted in a crumpled heap before he could reach her.

Chapter Fifteen

THE WORLD WAS MADE OF VINEGAR, and Minnie’s sinuses were on fire. She coughed and became aware that she rested on an uncomfortable surface—hard and lumpy and warm, all at the same time.

She opened her eyes.

Lydia was staring at her, waving a vial of sal volatile underneath her nose. Minnie coughed heavily and batted the smelling salts away.

“There,” her best friend said brightly. “That’s done the trick. Do you have a dreadful headache?”

It all came back to her. The flowers. The goats. The crowd. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “Lydia, please tell me I did not just faint in front of everyone.”

“You did.”

She wanted to close her eyes again. Robert had been there. What he would think of her?

“Did the goats eat all of my gown?”

“None of the good bits,” another voice said, this one directly above her.

And that was when Minnie realized her head wasn’t resting on a pillow. Those uncomfortable lumps were thighs; her head was cradled on the Duke of Clermont’s lap. She jerked upright, ignoring the pounding behind her eyelids, and pushed away from him. She had been laid out on a hard wooden bench. There was a desk at the front and a few chairs off to the side. She was in one of the upstairs merchants’ meeting rooms in New Hall, she supposed.

Along with the Duke of Clermont.

“Lydia,” she moaned, “how could you?”

But Lydia didn’t answer right away. She glanced at the duke and then colored and looked away.

“Someone had to carry you,” he said finally, “and, as it turns out, I was first to volunteer.”

She felt sick just imagining it. They’d all have looked at her when she fainted. To have the Duke of Clermont wade in, though—that would make everyone pay attention. No doubt the gossip was running the rounds.

“Now,” Lydia said, enunciating very carefully, “I am going to go fetch a glass of water—”

“Don’t you dare leave me alone with—”

But Lydia was already withdrawing.

“Lydia!”

The door closed behind her.

Minnie shot to her feet with no thought but to put space between them. If he didn’t touch her…

He stood along with her; when she wobbled, he caught her arm. “Sit down, Minnie.”

“People must know we are in here together,” she said frantically. “They’ll see her. They’ll think us alone. Everyone will think—”

“Everyone,” he said distinctly, “is already thinking. Your friend left me alone with you because she knew what I was going to say. Please sit down and listen to me.”