Kasey Michaels - How to Beguile a Beauty

With her hands pressed to her mouth so that she wouldn’t scream and distract him, Lydia watched as Tanner then made short work of the man, who now lay moaning rather piteously on the brick path thanks to several short, hard punches from Tanner’s right fist.

He then picked up the whip and flourished it, its length snapping in the air like a thunderbolt, proclaiming his expertise with the thing.

When he spoke, his voice was low, calm, cold as ice. “Anyone else? Come, come, gentlemen. You were looking for a good time. Don’t let me disappoint you.”

The younger men, big and brawny, and perhaps brighter than their first acquaintance might have led anyone to believe, turned and ran back up the path, deserting Molton, who was now sitting up with both hands raised to his face. “M’nose…you bloody broke m’nose…”

“And you deserved that, you cowardly beast,” Lydia said with feeling, and then quickly bit her bottom lip, horror-struck at her outburst.

“Nasty fall you just took, Molton,” Tanner said, leaning down and lifting the man’s head by the simple expedient of grabbing at his lordship’s full head of hair. “Do you understand me? You came out into the gardens for a bit of fresh air, and you fell in the dark. That, or name your seconds. It’s your choice. Who knows, Robbie might be lonely in the graveyard, and crave your company. God knows nobody else does.”

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