"You are awfully quiet," Theobald pointed out as they rode the carriage back to his estate.

His jaw clenched as he gritted out, "I am not quiet. I am furious."

Theobald shrugged. "This happens all the time, Harry. I am certain Alice does not mind the rumors—"

"She may not mind, yes," he said, throwing his friend a darting look, "but I do. Do you know what such scandal could do to her reputation?"

Theobald avoided his gaze. His friend looked out the window and belatedly shrugged. "Eva said Alice should have decided to leave Wickhurst sooner before the rumor blew up." He stole a glance at Harold. "She is leaving. The rumor will cease after the ton realizes that it is naught but a baseless tale by a bloody gossipmonger."

Harold's entire body tensed and he closed his eyes to keep himself calm. "And who," he said through his teeth, opening his eyes to meet Theobald's grey ones, "is this gossipmonger, if I may ask?"

Alarm crossed Theobald's eyes. "Well, I cannot be certain... you know how these gossips spread."

"Who?" he repeated, this time in a stronger tone.

"I cannot be sure," replied Theobald, avoiding his gaze. "But... well, do you remember when everyone noticed Lord Gedge in Alice's company at the Seymour ball?"

Harold took a long breath and forcefully let it out. "Yes," he bit out.

"Well, then, there you have it," said Theobald. "His new wife may not have liked the small talk that circulated the party."

"They did nothing—"

"They were together. That is all that matters to these people. That is enough for any gossip mongering leech."

Harold knocked on the roof of the carriage. It slowed down and finally stopped at the side of the road. "Your estate is nearby," he said to Theobald. "You should try walking."

Theobald narrowed his eyes at Harold. "What are you going to do, Harry?"

Fixing his friend a stern look, Harold swung the door open. "I will come get you should I need you."

*****

It was not easy to call on Lord Gedge that afternoon. The man was not in town. The butler refused to disclose his mistress' whereabouts.

Harold went home, still very much furious.

He wanted to go to Alice but he was certain she would not see him.

He waited until morning to go back to call on Lord Gedge, only to be told that he had not yet returned from his trip. The mistress was not home either.

A housemaid and a few townsends later, Harold found himself bursting into Café Royal, disturbing the quiet buzz inside. The younger women immediately straightened in their seats as he roamed his eyes around the room. The smell of coffee and tea filled the air, but the flaring of his nose was not due to that.

His shoulders hunched when he finally spotted her. She was sitting around a small table with three friends of hers, all of them in the middle of a discussion before his presence was known, and were now ogling him like the rest.

Harold stiffly turned and walked over to the woman and her friends with a tight smile on her lips. He saw alarm flicker in her eyes as he approached. She knew what she had done. And she was afraid of what he might do.

And she had every right to be afraid.

"Good day, ladies," he greeted, eyes on the young Lady Gedge. "If I may have a seat?"

When no one moved, Harold turned his eyes to the right where it landed on the dark-haired woman. She hesitated before she jumped to her feet, muttering a flimsy excuse to leave.

"Thank you," Harold loudly said, grabbing the chair to drag it in front of Lady Gedge who was looking at him wide-eyed. He sat down and realized that the entire café had gone completely silent.

He looked at the two other ladies still glued to their chairs. "If I may have a few moments with Lady Gedge, please?"

Lady Gedge whimpered as her friends went to their feet and out of the café faster than a squirrel. Soft whispers buzzed the air as Harold stared at Lady Gedge.

He waved off the server who came to get his order, his emerald eyes fixed on the woman who just made things even more difficult for him since yesterday.

Taking a long breath, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you start the rumor about me and Lady Alice?" he asked, hating to waste time to be cordial.

Lady Gedge's eyes widened as she turned her head to check on everyone who was clearly still looking at them. "What rumor, my lord?" she asked, returning her gaze to him.

"I do not like dancing around conversations, my lady," he impatiently stated. "Did you, or did you not?"

She swallowed. "Well," she shakily started. "I... I was confident that the information was true. My source is very much reliable. And I did not mean for the story to spread. I merely told three loyal friends."

"You mean the ones who just left you to burn without a backward glance?"

Anger flashed across the woman's blue eyes. "You scared them, my lord. And you are most definitely doing the same to me. My husband shall know of this—"

"I care not for what your husband will do, my lady," he interjected, leaning forward to hiss at her. "Who is your source?" The woman hesitated. Her eyes flickered around the room but his gaze. "I will count to three, my lady. If no name comes out of your mouth—"

"Sebastian," she hissed at him. "It was Sebastian."

Harold stiffened.

"See?" Lady Gedge asked, lifting her chin. "The most reliable source there is. He was at Henry House when you and Lady Alice came by for a short excursion." Harold's eyes narrowed as rage ate him inside. "But I said nothing about you and her being lovers. I assumed you came to Henry House as friends. And you are friends, yes? It was not I who changed the story. I told my friends what Lord Sebastian told me in confidence. It is not my fault it was weaved differently from mouth to mouth."

Harold uncrossed his arms and planted his hands on the table, intertwined them and deliberately held Lady Gedge's blue eyes prisoner. "A woman scorned."

She frowned in confusion despite the fear in her eyes. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You did not like it when your husband was seen with Lady Alice in the Seymour Ball and you did what you do best to ruin her."

Her eyes widened. "I did not! How dare you accuse me, a fine lady, of such—"

"Allow me to give you little advice, my lady," he interjected. "Try to lessen your propensity to gossip and pay your husband attention. Perhaps then he would not find the need to enjoy a friendly company with another woman."

She gasped at his bold remark. Harold stood up and leaned on the table to whisper, "If I hear another story—even a whisper—about this Jewel Mistress, I will come back to find you." He straightened to full height, satisfied with the fear in her eyes. He turned, oblivious of the stares, and as he walked away, he added, "And oh, do be certain you watch your maids! They are quite keen to betray you with a few townsends!"

*****

Harold did not even make it through the grand entrance before Martin shoved him outside.

His friend's eyes were weary from having traveled back to Wickhurst in haste, but most of all he was just as furious.

"How dare you!" Martin hissed.

"What?" Harold asked.

Martin shoved him once again and he almost fell back down the stairs. "You dare ask! You ruined her!"

Harold had nothing to say. "We came to Henry House while we were on our way to Tiny Town. You know that."

"I care not where you have been or what you have been doing," Martin hissed at him. "I am talking about the bloody rumor. The Jewel Mistress! Bloody hell, Harry! How do you reckon her mother would react to this?"

Harold ran his fingers through his hair. "About that... I know—"

"I told you to stay away from her."

Harold blinked in surprise. Yes, Martin did that.

"If you only did what I told you, this would not have escalated to how it is now!"

He swallowed and looked up at the row of windows of the second landing. "How is she?"

"She is Alice. She wants us to believe she is fine, but she is now packing."

There it was again.

The fear and panic.

He rubbed his hands on his face.

"What do you intend to do now?" his friend demanded. "Bloody hell, Harry. I know you are in love with the woman. Anyone can see that, you bloody coward."

Harold placed his hands on his hips and looked down. "I know," he said softly. He looked up at his friend and said, "I'm a coward. I know." He turned and climbed down the stairs toward his carriage.

"What in tarnation—"

"I need your help with something."

Martin stared after him in disbelief. "What—"

He climbed into his carriage and waited until Martin followed, albeit with hesitation and anger. "This ought to bring something good, you bastard. Eva will murder me if I return with something bigger than the scandal."

He merely sighed and tapped the door.

"We will also need Theobald."

*****

Martin was adamant that they postponed, that Grey's was not the right place to do it.

But his friend's attempts to be reasonable proved futile when Theobald agreed that it might be their only chance.

As they entered the gaming room of Grey's like the powerful lords that they were, the room was immediately distracted except for the table in the corner where five gentlemen were in the middle of laughing.

Noticing that the room had gone quiet and a shadow hovered over them, the five men's laughter died down as they looked up to see Harold, Martin and Theobald.

"Ah, Everard!" Timothy Bowman greeted wryly. "If you can step aside, my friends and I need a little bit of light."

Harold ignored Bowman, his menacing green eyes on Sebastian.

Sebastian looked quite amused. "What is it, Kenward?"

"Get up," he ordered.

The room had gone still, but the excitement from the other men was almost palpable as they turned in their seats, ready to watch the show.

Sebastian chuckled. "Why would I?" he turned to Martin and asked, "Has your friend been drinking, Martin? It seems to me he is asking for a fight."

Martin shrugged, his gaze far from friendly as well. "I suggest you follow his request."

"Hmm, I would say the same," Theobald added, leaning his forearm on Bowman's shoulder. Bowman tried to shake him off and failed. Theobald winked at him. "We are here to settle a score."

"What score?" Sebastian asked with a scoff. He looked at his friends. "These idiots think they have a score to settle."

Theobald turned to Harold. "He called you an idiot."

Harold lifted cracked his fingers while loosening the muscles of his neck. "No, I believe he called us idiots."

"But we're friends, Sebastian," Martin said, taking off his coat. A gentlemen sitting nearby readily took it from him.

Bowman let out a mocking laugh as he tried to brush Theobald's arm away from his shoulder. "Now, now, Sebastian, what have you done for these gentlemen to risk their membership at Grey's?" He shot Harold a meaningful look. "Again."

Sebastian shrugged, feigning indifference, his eyes locked on Harold's. "I can only imagine."

The three other gentlemen in the table sneered.

"I will not fight you, Kenward," Sebastian said wryly, grabbing his glass of drink. "Your bitch is not worth the risk of being banished from Grey's—"

His glass shattered against his face before he even finished his statement.

A roar of cheers erupted around the room just as Sebastian, with his bloody face, sprang to his feet and threw himself at Harold. It was followed by Bowman's howl of pain as Theobald dug his elbow on his shoulder, cracking a bone.

Martin was fast to kick the table, hitting three groins at once as the three gentlemen stood up to help Sebastian who was pinned on the floor by Harold.

Townsends were being passed around as the other members wagered on the fight while the poor manager was screaming for the men to remove themselves from the establishment.

"Forever banned!" the manager, an aging man with white hair and lanky feature, was saying over the whistles and cheers. And the sound of breaking glass and wood.

"You bloody bastard!" Harold growled as he landed a fist against Sebastian's face. "You settle your scores like a man. You do not do it," he planted another blow, "like a cunt!" He bent down and gasped mockingly. "Oh, but wait! You are a cunt!"

Unfortunately, one of the three men behind him managed to grab and drag him off Sebastian. In less than a few seconds, another pair of hands managed to help the first and Harold was held back for Sebastian to attack.

"You will pay for this!" Sebastian shouted as his fist dug into Harold's abdomen, followed by his elbow against the side of Harold's head.

A second of blackness passed his eyes before he felt his body slide to the floor. The men holding him were suddenly gone, followed by a loud crash of wood, probably a chair, against flesh.

Martin pulled him up and threw him toward Sebastian before turning to finish off the two men on the ground. Theobald was dragging Bowman across the floor and soon, the sound of shattered windowpane erupted with howls of cheers. Bowman had left the room through the window.

"Ahhhh!" Theobald shouted as he ran back to throw himself at the one gentleman standing with his hands on his crotch.

Sebastian and Harold were rolling on the floor, grunting as they struggled to regain control over the other.

The sound of gunfire froze everyone.

Harold had his arm around Sebastian's neck. Martin was sitting on the detached tabletop with two men sandwiched between it and the floor. Theobald was on dragging a man toward another window.

"Stoooooop!" the manager shouted in fury, firing his gun one more time. "You..." he said, sweeping his gun at everyone in the room, "all of you... are stripped of your membership!"

A burst of protest from the other members erupted. Another shot rang out.

"All of you, bloody bastards!" the manager shouted, his face and white hair almost red with fury.

Harold let go of Sebastian and pushed him on the floor. "Gladly," he said, righting his clothes, his murderous eyes on Sebastian.

Blood dripping from the glass cuts on his face, Sebastian scrambled to his feet and spit out blood. He sneered at Harold. "I did promise that cunt I will ruin her, Kenward." Harold started to attack him again but the manager stepped between them with his gun.

"Step out of my establishment at once!" the manager ordered. "All of you!"

Sebastian stepped away as Harold tried to reach for him over the manager's shoulder. His bloodied face sneered at Harold. "And I delivered," he continued his statement. "She is ruined forever, that cunt! No one will want her now."

Harold pushed the manager aside and Martin jumped to stop the man from firing his gun, giving Harold the chance to strike Sebastian another strong blow, sending him on the ground.

He kneeled down over the cheers from the other members and pulled Sebastian by his collar to harshly grit out, "I will have her, you bastard."

He dropped the limp Sebastian on the floor with a thud and strode out of the room, not noticing the look of surprise Martin and Theobald shared before they followed him.