Much Ado about the Shrew (20 page)

           
"This is insane," Ben
muttered. "I cannot believe we are arguing over a marriage contract as if
we were purchasing
chattle
."

           
"I am livestock now?" Bee
asked.

           
"I don't believe he meant it
quite that way," Milford intervened.

           
"And how do you think he meant
it?" Bee's voice was shrill.

           
"I, um... Kendal, maybe you
should explain," Milford stuttered.

           
"I meant it exactly how I said
it," Ben told him, putting his arm up on the mantle, and resting his head
on his arm.
 

           
Bee stood up. "You think I
am... what?" she asked. "A cow or a horse?"

           
"You're acting as if you've
just been sold at Tattersall's," Ben said testily.
 
Dear God, just because her uncle was a bloody
fool didn't mean that she had to abide by his wishes. She did not have to go
along with any marriage plans her uncle put forth. Didn't she understand that
she had family and friends and, well...
him
to support her? Why did she insist on focusing on Surrey?

           
"Bloody hell, Kendal!"
Welles finally said, cursing under his breath. "A little excessive, don't
you think?"

           
Ben barely heard him, so enraged he
was. "She needs excessive. Otherwise she doesn't pay attention!"

           
"Look at her, Kendal!"
Welles gestured to where Bee was standing. "Was that all really
necessary?"

           
Refusing to look at Beatrice, Ben
shook his head. "She's strong. She'll be fine."

           
Welles gave Ben a hard look.
"You are an ass," he told him.

           
"What?" Ben turned at his
friend. "What did you say?"

           
"I said," Welles said more
loudly, "that you are an
ass
."
 
Ben watched as Welles turned from him and
approached Bee, who looked lost all of a sudden. Ben's heart gripped.
What the hell had he done to her?

           
No, no- Beatrice was a strong
woman.
 
She was just shocked at his
outburst was all. It wasn't as if she would take what he said to heart, Ben
reasoned. For so many years, they had warred merrily between them.
 
Today would be no different, he was
sure.
 
He scoffed as Welles gathered up her
arm and tucked it into his, then, with a determined look, strode resolutely
with her out of the room, keeping his body between Beatrice and Ben. Coddling
her was unnecessary, he wanted to tell Welles, but no bother.
 
Welles would find out soon enough, when he
bundled up the hellion into his carriage.
Which
she would somehow find fault with
, Ben amended.

           
"We seem to be a few players
short of whist," Milford said at Ben's back. Ben nodded, but did not turn;
he didn't want to deal with Milford's wit just yet.

           
"Perhaps now that Welles and
Lady Beatrice have gone, this might be a good time for us to make our own
exit?" Milford supplied.

           
Ben nodded, his teeth clenched.

           
"And get very drunk?" Milford
amended with a half-grin.

           
Ben nodded again.
 
Sometimes Milford was bloody brilliant.

           
Ben had not been hit since his early
schoolboy days, and even then he scuffled only lightly, with boys his age, more
in the guise of wrestling than boxing.
 
He was not a fan of the Gentleman Jackson's club, nor did he understand
the need for men, grown or otherwise, to physically attack another outside of
wartime.
 
This, he thought as he hit the
ground, was a wise move, for this experience was not something he would ever
care to repeat.

           
Once he was down, he could feel the
rage and adrenaline course through him, and it took all of his will not to jump
up and attack the man who had apparently sucker-punched him.
 
He stayed down on the grass for a moment
until his head cleared enough to see several shocked faces staring down at him,
and one very livid Lord Lennox breathing heavily above him.
 
He pushed himself up on one elbow, and
lightly touched the side of his mouth, where he could taste blood.

           
The day had started out poorly, as
he had woken up with an aching head, which was only compounded when his mother
started berating him the minute he walked into the parlor for breakfast about
his behavior the night before.
 
He had no
idea how she had already heard about his row with Bee, and he had no desire to
stay and ask. Instead, he immediately he decided that it would be infinitely
more quiet to walk to his club for breakfast.
 
As he left the townhouse, he decided that after he broke his fast he
would pay on a call to Bee and apologize for last night.
 

           
Belatedly, he thought perhaps he
should have gone to her house first.

           
"What, pray tell, was that for,
you bloody Scot?" Ben spat out. He winced internally at his last comment;
there was no reason to anger Lennox further, but he would be damned if he would
let this pass.
 
So he and Bee had a spat;
it wasn't as if that were the first time they had argued.

           
"What did you do to her?"
Lennox shouted, straining against the men who were holding him. So much the
better, Ben told himself. He slowly got to his feet.
 

           
"Again, I ask, what in the hell
was that for, and what the hell do you mean?"
 
Ben said slowly. He heard someone gasp behind
him and he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.
 
This already had the making of a scandal; he
might as well do it up right.

           
"You know bloody well what you
did.
 
What, did you do it for some
bet?
 
I'm sure you and her uncle had a
good laugh at her expense. How did you do it? Did you compromise her?
 
Because I'll kill you right now where you
stand if you did."

           
Ben felt the blood drain from his
head, realizing that Lennox was talking about Bee.
 
He thought he had compromised her?
 
Well, certainly he had kissed her... and the
thought of her naked and under him had kept him up at nights... Ben felt the
world spin for a moment and he swayed lightly.
 
"Whoa, man," he heard someone say, and he felt a steadying
hand on his shoulder.
  

           
"What?" was all Ben could
bark out.

           
Lennox at that moment broke the hold
one of his captors had on him, and again went after Ben.
 
This time, however, Ben dodged the blow, but
Lennox still managed to push him back down to the ground. Ben got quickly back
to his feet and grabbed at Lennox, who refused to budge. Really, the man
was
a tree!
 
The two scuffled until they were dragged off
of one another.
 
Ben was released,
although Lennox's captors kept a loose hold on his jacket.

           
"Did you compromise her?"
Lennox asked again between huffs of breath.

           
"What do you think?" Ben
replied, bending over and panting for breath. "Of course not."

           
"Well, you did something."

           
"I don't know what you're
talking about," Ben said.

           
"Then tell me why she accepted
Surrey's offer this morning?"
 
Lennox spat out, and wrenched his arm free.
 
The men stood poised to grab him again, but
he made no further move towards Ben.

           
Ben watched Lennox warily.
 
"What do you mean, she accepted
Surrey
?
  
The man is despicable at best.
 
He
killed her brother, for God’s sake. Bee would never accept him."

           
"And how do you know that?"
Lennox sneered, and Ben cursed himself for his slip.
 

           
"
Lady Beatrice
not only
would
refuse
Surrey, but I know that she
has refused
him."

           
"She accepted him this morning,"
Lennox shouted, "Before I could stop her."
 
Ben assumed it was less the tone of his
voice, and more that he more closely resembled a tree that stopped the other
men from commenting.

           
"This is madness," Ben
said. "You say she has accepted him; I say she has not. Neither of us
believes himself to be in wrong. The only way to get to the bottom of this is
to go to the source.

           
"You'll do no such thing,"
Lennox spat. "I don't know what you did to twist her lovely mind into
accepting that monster, but I will not brook any further meddling."

           
Ben's head was beginning to pound
harder, and the street was beginning to fill.
 
Better this was done with before he was tossed out on his ear; or worse,
tossed out of the club for good.

           
"For goodness... all
right," Ben sighed. "Let's go now to talk to her.
 
You'll make sure I don't do anything untoward."
He paused before muttering under his breath, "After all, you're more tree than
man, anyway."

           
"She's not at the
townhouse," Lennox spat.
 
"She
left this morning to go to her uncle's house."

           
"What?" Ben asked.
"She hates Dorset."

           
Lennox just stared at him
accusingly, and Ben felt the pounding move behind his eyes. Dear God, could
this day get any worse?

           
"Fine," he sighed.
"Let me send for my coach and we'll go there together."

           
Lennox narrowed his eyes. "I
don't see why you should go at all," he said.

           
Ben stared at Lennox for a moment,
then turned and resolutely walked up the steps.
 
If he had learned anything in the war, it was knowing when it was
useless to continue fighting a senseless battle. "Let me put it this
way," he said over his shoulder, "I'm going to go inside, call for my
coach, then head over to Dorset's house and find out what, exactly, is going
on. You may come or not." With that, he stomped into the club and left
Lennox staring at him outside.
Idiot
,
Ben said to himself, but he wasn't sure if he was referring to Lennox or
himself.

           
"Kendal, I didn't expect to see
you here," a voice called from inside.

           
Ben looked up to see Milford sitting
at a small table in front of the fireplace. He looked a bit out of sorts, and
even his sarcastic tone had a bit of melancholy attached to it.

           
"Milford? What's wrong with
you?" Ben asked.

           
"What? A man can't have
breakfast at his club?"

           
Ben gave his head a small shake.
"Is Welles here?"

           
"I'm afraid not," Milford
said. "I believe he is breakfasting over at Lennox's townhome with Lady
Julia."

           
"Ah," Ben said.

           
Lennox walked in behind Ben.
"Well?" he asked.

           
Ben took a deep breath. "Just a
moment, Lennox. Let me ask a servant to run to the house."

           
"This wouldn't have happened if
it weren't for you," Lennox grumbled, and took a seat next to Milford, who
blinked rapidly before looking up at Ben questioningly.

           
"He says Bee accepted Surrey
this morning," Ben explained.

           
Milford raised his eyebrows.

           
"I know, I know. I think he's
off his rocker as well," Ben said.

           
Milford looked over at Lennox, who
had speared a large piece of ham from Milford's plate and shoved it into his
mouth, then looked back to Ben.

           
"She's over at Dorset's,"
Ben confessed.
 

           
Milford sat back and rubbed his eyes
before putting his head back and staring at Ben.

           
"I'm calling for the carriage
now," Ben told him.

           
Milford crossed his hands in front
of his chest. Lennox, however, was focused on eating Milford's toast.

           
"I'm going, I'm going,"
Ben muttered, and turned to find a servant to fetch his carriage. Sometimes
Milford could be terribly demanding.