She struggled to free herself from the man’s grasp and when that didn’t work she tried the same move that had helped her escape Felix’s clutches. But this man was fat, his belly the perfect buffer against her attempt to harm him. Eventually, she managed to step down hard on his foot, but that only caused him to laugh.
“Now, now. There’s no need for you to be violent.”
Felix’s fist struck Erwin’s cheek and the crowd erupted in cheers.
“Go on Erwin,” someone shouted. “Deck ’im!”
Erwin pulled back his arm, prepared to do precisely that when a shrill whistle spliced the air like a carving knife. “What the blistering hell is happening here?”
Charlotte’s pulse leapt with hope while air filled her frayed lungs with elation. “Blayne!”
The hulking Scotsman stepped into the melee as if every man around him were but a gnat he could easily squish between his fingers. Erwin stumbled in mind-punch while Felix took a step back and dropped both arms to his sides. A hush descended over the room and everyone froze while Blayne turned, searching the crowd until his gaze landed on Charlotte.
His jawline hardened and his eyes turned black. A vein pulsed at the side of his neck to further convey his fury. Tension had transformed his shoulders into rigid lines while the need to do violence was evident in his tightly clenched fists.
Charlotte’s heart knocked about wildly. She’d never seen him like this, but it was suddenly very easy for her to imagine him wringing a man’s neck. He’d told her he’d killed while working for Guthrie. He’d explained that he wasn’t good company for a gently bred woman like her – certainly not the sort of man she ought to be kissing.
She hadn’t listened, perhaps because she’d not wanted to think of him in that way or maybe because it had been impossible for her to do so when he’d shown no hint of the violence when he was with her. But now, in this moment, Charlotte saw that he was a man who could make the devil himself tremble in his boots. Strong and fierce, he looked ready to do bloody murder, and something about his harsh gaze made her worry she might be the first one to feel his wrath.
A shiver of apprehension rushed through her along with a contrasting pull. Even though much of his anger was likely directed at her and even though she should probably wish she’d never come here, seeing him like this only made her want to pull him into a private room and kiss him.
A muscle moved at the side of his jaw as he glared past her right shoulder. And then, with slow and very precise words, he quietly said, “I suggest ye release my woman before I knock yer block off.”
Charlotte sucked in a breath, then released it just as quickly when the man who’d been holding her dropped his hands.
His woman?
A funny hum buzzed through her veins, filling them with delicious warmth.
“Now wait one minute,” Felix grumbled. “I saw ’er first.”
Blayne spun toward him and grabbed him by the throat. Felix yelped and clasped hold of his hands, trying to pry away Blayne’s fingers. It was no use. Blayne was determined and with three long strides he’d marched Felix to the door, flung it wide, and given the man a rough shove that sent him stumbling out into the night.
“Who else laid a hand on her?” Blayne asked.
Fingers quickly pointed at Georgie who earned a punch to the eye before he too was tossed out on his ass.
“If either of ye comes back here again, I’ll break yer bloody bones,” Blayne called after them. He slammed the door shut and turned. “Erwin?”
Erwin gulped. “Yes, Mr. MacNeil?”
“Did ye touch her as well?”
“N…no, sir. Never even crossed my mind.”
“Miss Russell?” Blayne gave her a questioning look.
She swallowed and tried not to appear as shaky as she felt. “He didn’t touch me, but he was trying to win me. That’s why he and Felix were fighting.”
“Why, you little conniving who—”
Blayne’s knuckles connected with bone, silencing Erwin with a loud crack. “Grab yer friend and go,” he told the fat man who’d been holding Charlotte. “Ye’d best pray I never set eyes on either of ye again. Is that clear?”
The fat man gave a quick nod before pulling Erwin to his feet and escorting him out of the tavern. Blayne waited until they were both out of sight before glancing around. “As for the rest of ye, ye’re welcome to stay until closing as long as ye dinnae cause trouble.”
The crowd instantly scattered with men returning to their drinks and card games as if no altercation had taken place. Blayne grabbed Charlotte’s hand hard and dragged her toward the stairs, not breaking his stride even as she stumbled along behind him, doing her best to keep up. He was like a thundercloud racing across the sky, seeking the right place in which to explode. They reached the landing and Charlotte tripped. A gasp tore through her as she lost her footing, yanking her arm against its socket.
If Blayne cared about her discomfort, he didn’t show it. Instead, he threw open a door and shoved her into a sparsely furnished room in which rows of potted plants lined the window sills. The door slammed shut right next to Charlotte’s ear, jarring her senses, and then she was thrust up against the wall by the same large hands that had thrown four men from the tavern a few short minutes ago.
“What the hell do ye think ye’re doing?” he seethed, his eyes like granite and his mouth a hard line of disapproval. “Have ye nae common sense at all?”
The unease she’d felt since leaving home transformed into sudden anger. She set her jaw and glared back at him. “I came to see you.”
“In the middle of the night and all by yerself? Christ, woman. Are ye mad? My God, I ought to have ye committed for being a danger to yer own safety.” His eyes darkened even further while her anger grew. “What the devil do ye think would have happened if I’d nae been there to stop those randy bastards from taking what they wanted?”
It wasn’t a question she dared consider, so although she knew she’d been lucky, she ignored it. After all, everything had turned out well in the end. “I won’t do it again. I promise.”
“Ye’re bloody well right ye won’t do it again.” His fingers curled into her shoulders while rough breaths escaped his mouth. She had an inkling he wanted to shake her. Instead he just held her in place. “I need to know ye’re smart enough not to place yerself in danger.”
“I did bring my pistol,” she countered so he’d not think her a completely naïve moron.
“Of course ye did. So how come ye didnae use it?”
“I, um…I tried. Felix managed to disarm me though.”
Blayne dropped his gaze and muttered a curse so fowl Charlotte’s cheeks grew hot. “I’m starting to see why yer father insisted ye marry Mr. Cooper. And I’m also beginning to comprehend his wish to keep ye locked up until the wedding. Jesus Christ. I didnae notice before because I was tangled up so tight with ye I just couldnae see, but the truth is ye’re too bloody reckless.”
The anger inside her shifted once more, turning to pain. “Don’t you dare suggest Mr. Cooper might have been good for me, Blayne, or that my father was right to do what he did.” A sob tore up her throat. It was one thing to deal with the criticism of others, but she could not handle his. Having Blayne’s disapproval was like a stab to her heart and with everything else she’d endured in the last few days, it was too much for her to bear. She punched his chest while her vision blurred and tears began falling against her cheeks. “You…You were all I could think of. I needed to see you. Don’t tell me I came here for nothing, don’t try and pretend you don’t care or that—”