Free Between a Rake and a Hard Place by Connie Mason

whirling kick. While the men groaned on the polished floors, Jonah liberated a chair from a nearby table and sat, crossing his legs unconcernedly. A coterie of staff members from the club came skittering up.
    â€œSir, we must ask you kindly to leave these premises forthwith,” the head waiter said, his face flushed and his eyes wide. “This club tolerates no physical violence.”
    â€œNothing untoward has taken place, Watkins,” the marquis said as his guards struggled to rise. “A misunderstanding only. Think nothing of it.”
    Watkins clamped his lips shut. Without another word, the servants bowed and returned to their duties.
    â€œWell, that’s a good trick,” Jonah said. “One word from you and people disregard the evidence of their own eyes.”
    â€œThat’s because once I point out their error, my inferiors generally realize that the world is not as they see it.”
    â€œHow is it then?”
    â€œThe world is as I say it is,” Wyndleton said grandly.
    â€œHow convenient for you.”
    â€œFor them as well.” The marquis examined his fingernails for a moment and then folded his aristocratic hands on his lap. His heavy signet ring glinted brightly. “It removes the burden of decision-making from less able shoulders.”
    â€œI hope you haven’t made the mistake of numbering me in that group,” Jonah said. “I’m perfectly capable of both seeing the world clearly and making my own decisions about it.”
    The two pugilists were upright now and looking to the marquis for further instructions.
    Lord Wyndleton gave his guards a weary glance and waved the men away. They retreated to a nearby table where they could keep an eye on him and Jonah while licking their wounds over cups of hot chocolate and finger sandwiches.
    â€œThose decisions of yours are what interest me, Sir Jonah,” the marquis said. “Perhaps you’d care to enlighten me about which one led to your elevation to a baronetcy.”
    Jonah had never told a soul about it, and he damn well wouldn’t start with this man simply for the asking. “I performed a service to the Crown.”
    The marquis squinted one eye at him in a withering gaze. “Obviously.”
    â€œI am not at liberty to share the specifics.”
    â€œI assure you, Sir Jonah, I have His Majesty’s utmost trust.”
    â€œAs do I.” Jonah met the marquis’s glare without a blink. “Which is why I can’t discuss the matter.”
    Lord Wyndelton’s color deepened and a muscle worked furiously in his cheek. “Then let us turn to a matter you will discuss or I’ll know the reason why. You brought my daughter home from the opera last night. How did that extraordinary circumstance come about?”
    â€œI’m sure Lady Serena has already explained the situation to you. I have nothing to add to her account,” he said, hoping she’d neglected to mention her unhappy experience with his Cuban cigar. “I was glad to be of service and trust the lady is recovered from her illness.”
    The marquis frowned. “She ought not to have left the opera alone. My daughter is a remarkable young lady in many respects, but she’s far too casual about her personal safety.”
    Jonah cut a glance at the two men he’d recently introduced to the floor. “I’m frankly surprised you didn’t send those two with her to the opera.”
    â€œThey wouldn’t have been able to stay awake,” Wyndleton said with a curl of his lip. “I made the mistake of settling for sending her footman who was easily distracted. And my daughter absolutely rebels at the idea of having guards dogging her steps when she moves in Society.”
    Jonah suppressed a smile. The will of the indomitable Marquis of Wyndleton was thwarted by his slip of a daughter. Obviously, he wasn’t the only one for whom the world was as he proclaimed