Free Ripe for Scandal by Isobel Carr Page A

one way or another, you’ll do as I say, Boudicea.”
    “Fine,” she spat out, bracing herself.
    When she didn’t move, she could see the realization dawn on her brother’s face that she meant
fine, drag me
, not
fine, I’ll do as you say
. One side of her mouth quirked up. She couldn’t help it. It was fine if he dragged her, but she’d be damned if she gave up
     and let Leo order her about. And she wouldn’t stand by and let him punish his friend for something that she’d done.
    Leo closed the gap between them and caught her by the wrist. Two steps, her heels leaving furrows in the damp earth of the
     yard, and they came to a halt as Sandison placed himself between them and the inn.
    Tousled, bloody, his coat ripped and muddy—he still looked like a hero. Her hero.
    “Let go of her,” Sandison said in a tone that seemeddesigned to provoke her brother into retaliation, just as her smile had been. Leo’s grip tightened. Beau bumped against him,
     jostling him, forcing him to look at her and not at his friend.
    Leo glared down at her. Beau searched his face. No tenderness. No forgiveness. She put her free hand on his chest. She had
     to make him understand. “Please, Leo. Just listen to me for a moment. One moment—” The clatter of hooves and the jingle of
     harness cut her off.
    Beau stood frozen in place as her family’s second best coach rolled into the yard, Sampson on the box, her footman Boaz beside
     him. Glennalmond leapt out before it came to a full stop. Leo shook his head, his expression hardening, and tossed her to
     their elder brother. Glennalmond caught her and held her tight, one massive arm locked about her waist.
    “Take her to Dyrham,” Leo said, not even looking at her. “If you drive all night, you should get there by morning. I’ll follow
     when I’m done here.”
    Gareth checked his teeth with his tongue and spat. The coppery tang of blood remained. At least his nose didn’t appear to
     be broken. Not yet, anyway.
    The Vaughn family’s servants stared down from the box of the coach, expressions as grim and unrelenting as their masters’.
     Beau’s personal footman was fingering the blunderbuss in his hands as though he’d love to be given permission to use it.
    Glennalmond was gesticulating widely with his one free hand, pointing repeatedly at Gareth. Leo was arguing back, his voice
     low enough that Gareth couldn’t quitemake out the words. He didn’t need to. They were clearly arguing over which one of them got to kill him. Did being the eldest
     trump being the best friend of the villain?
    Gareth choked down an utterly inappropriate laugh. This was one argument that Leo wasn’t going to lose, and that was for the
     best. He’d be tempted to defend himself against Glennalmond, and he deserved what was coming.
    If Beau had been his sister, he’d have wanted to kill him too. Leo turned, said something to Beau inside the coach, and then
     Glennalmond climbed in and slammed the door shut behind him. Leo nodded at the coachman and the carriage slowly turned about,
     circling him, the armed footman glaring at him under his powdered wig the entire time.
    The scene was unfolding with all the absurdity of a staged farce. The thwarted lovers. The avenging brothers. The ever-present
     witnessing chorus of servants. The entire benighted cast was present and playing their roles to the hilt. Except perhaps for
     Beau, who clearly had no intention of being the quaking
ingénue
. If his world weren’t caving in around his ears, it would have been damn funny.
    Leo stood, still as a monolith, and watched until his siblings disappeared around a bend in the road. Once they were gone,
     he turned slowly back to face Gareth.
    The silence stretched. Excuses swarmed Gareth’s head. He opened his mouth and then shut it with an audible snap of teeth.
     What was there to say? No excuse was good enough. Even the truth wouldn’t wipe the look of betrayal from Leo’s face. And the
     whole