John growled. "You're making that up."
A rose blush stained her cheeks. "Perhaps. So what if I am? I'll wager that he does. All depraved villains have them. Whips and chains and black masks and lots of naughty leather things that must serve a shocking purpose, although I have no idea what that purpose could be. Not to mention the other wicked instruments of-"
"Where did you hear such nonsense?" He ran a hand through his hair in consternation. "Just get behind me and keep quiet. Can you do that? I'm trying to get us both through this encounter without fists flying."
She nodded and stepped behind him, resting her hand against his back as though needing to hold on to him. "And I don't like the way his lips curl upward in a sneer."
He dismissed her comment as her touch rippled through him. He wanted to tell her not to do that, for his concentration fell to pieces whenever she touched him. "Nicola, wait by the back table where we sat last night. I want you well out of the way while I first approach him."
"Oh, all right. But don't trust him, John."
"Right. Got it. He's a depraved viper." He was glad that Nicola no longer cared for the man and refused to marry him, but was also disgusted with himself for wanting Nicola to be his without any intention of offering for her.
If anyone was a depraved viper, it was him.
The girl deserved happiness and a good man to love her.
"Somersby," he said, approaching the scowling marquis who stood in the entry hall with five rough-looking men. "You needn't worry. Lady Nicola is safe. Mr. Drummond and I will return her to your lodge in a little while. I'm sure her aunt and uncle must be wringing their hands in concern."
Somersby sneered at him, bringing Nicola's words to mind. Whips and chains and toss in a wicked sneer. "She comes back with me now, Bainbridge. Don't interfere or you'll regret it. This is between Lady Nicola and me."
"Are you threatening me? Because I don't take kindly to threats." Gad, had Nicola been right about this arse?
"Where is she?" Somersby raised his hand, about to motion for his ruffians to search the inn, but he must have noticed the lethal glint in John's eyes, and stilled his hand in midair. "Very well, what do you propose?"
"Merely that you speak to her. She was caught unawares last night and was shocked by what she saw."
Somersby nodded. "So she told you."
"She would have sought out her brother had he been here. I was the next best thing. That's all. I am neither condoning nor condemning what you did, nor am I in the habit of gossiping. What matters is how you address the situation this morning. Treating her with kindness and respect will help. She's to be your wife, after all."
"That's right. My wife, not yours. She will never be yours."
Never. That one word struck like a knife to John's heart and momentarily stole his breath away. Had he imagined it, or was there a purposeful malice in that statement? A wicked sense of glee in twisting the knife in him?
What had he ever done to offend the man?
Somersby was too busy glancing around and scowling at the small crowd of men now gathered around them to notice that he'd struck deep. Nor did he appear pleased to have these men as witnesses, but John was glad they were present if only to keep the man's temper in check, for he was still riled. "Mine. I will not allow her to make a fool of me."
"No need. You're doing an able job of it all by yourself." John knew he should not have goaded him, but the man needed to be taken down a peg or two. He willed himself to remain calm and not curl his hands into fists, but it was no easy thing. He itched to plant the pompous oaf a facer. One solid punch to lay him low. "You're mistaken if you believe Lady Nicola can be threatened or intimidated. You are dangerously mistaken if you believe I will stand back and do nothing to protect her."
Somersby poked him in the chest with his finger. "And you're mistaken if you think to interfere. She is my betrothed. She will be my wife. Do we understand each other?"
John folded his arms over his chest. "She isn't your betrothed yet, nor will she ever be if this is the way you intend to treat her. Put your hand on me again and I'll break it. Put your hand on Lady Nicola and I'll kill you. I think we understand each other very well."
Somersby noticeably blanched at his remark. Good, he wanted to leave no doubt that he'd be watching the marquis. He could tell by the man's nervous glance that he was reconsidering his approach. John smothered a grin, glad that he'd gotten his point across. Even the curious onlookers had hurriedly moved off, obviously not intending to be caught in the crossfire if shots were fired.
"Bainbridge, I am obviously out of sorts. What happened last night distressed me as much as it did Lady Nicola. Of course, I will respect her. She's to be my wife. She will bear my children. She'll be my duchess when I inherit my father's title. I will talk to her. I will apologize to her on bended knee if I must. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."
John dared not believe a word of his pretty speech, but Nicola must have been listening and did appear to accept what the bounder had just said. She stepped into the hallway and came to his side. "Lord Bainbridge, it's all right. I'll return to Lord Somersby's lodge with him now." She cast both of them a wan smile. "I'm so sorry I worried everyone. How is my uncle? And Aunt Bess?"
Somersby's anger seemed to fade away as Nicola reached his side. "Lord and Lady Darnley are quite distressed, my dear. The sooner we return to the lodge, the better."
She nodded. "I'm ready to go back now. I behaved like a child. Can you ever forgive me?"
A meek and biddable Nicola?
One who was now apologizing to a man she'd called a viper and a monster only moments ago?
John knew her better than to believe his own ears. What was she up to?
"Thank you for everything, Lord Bainbridge," she said, the soft sparkle in her eyes causing his heart to beat a little faster. "Please extend my good wishes to Mr. Drummond. You will both attend this evening's party, won't you? I insist on it. My uncle will be devastated if you refuse."
What? No, he and Jordan were on the hunt for dangerous smugglers. The last thing they needed was to lose a night sipping champagne and listening to Society's elite grumble about how sparse the grouse were this year.
But the short hairs at the nape of his neck were prickling.
Despite Nicola's presently demure appearance, she was going to refuse the marquis' proposal of marriage. Perhaps this was her way of asking for his help in keeping her and her family safe when Somersby's anger erupted. "Of course, Lady Nicola. We look forward to it."
Somersby shot daggers at him with his gaze. "See you tonight then, Bainbridge."
"Count on it, Somersby." Hell. Hell. Hell and damnation. He'd have to pack an armory of weapons on his person because the evening was going to turn ugly. So much for catching rebellious smugglers. King and country would have to wait while he rescued Nicola.
He remained in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and the cool breeze blowing through his hair. The sun was out and beginning to dry the wet roadways. The marquis' carriage kicked up little dust as it disappeared around the bend and made its way toward his grand lodge. His so-called footmen rode behind the carriage, but he noticed one or two of them glance back at him.
He did not like the look of menace in their smiles.
Did they plan to do something to Nicola?
He doubted Somersby would be so foolish as to order her punished in any way. Not when he and Jordan would see her this evening and immediately know if she'd been harmed. Nor would he dare return her to Lord and Lady Darnley with so much as a scratch on her delicate skin. No, he wouldn't dare.
Still, John did not like to think of her alone with that oaf.
He climbed the stairs two at a time and entered Jordan's quarters. "Get up. We have work to do."
"Bollocks, stop shouting at me. My head's about to explode." Jordan slowly rolled to a sitting position and rubbed his hands across his face to wipe the sleep from his eyes and the fog from his brain. "What's wrong? What did I miss?"
John frowned. "Nicola left with Somersby."
That seemed to catch his friend's attention. "And you let her go with that Sassenach horse's arse?"
"I couldn't interfere. She wanted to go."
"Since when has that stopped you?"
John checked the pistol in the hidden holster in his boot, donned his jacket, and grabbed his hunting rifle.
"Ye bloody fool! What are ye planning to do?" Jordan sprang from his bed with a rasping groan and crossed to the door to block him. "I thought you just said you weren't going to interfere."