Fate's Intervention (35 page)

“
Go to hell, Mark,
”
Matthew said quietly,
“
or back to New York and poverty for all I care.
”

“
You bastard,
”
Mark growled and leapt to his feet, surprising Matthew with a body ram that knocked both men to the ground a few inches from where Marcelle had pulled herself to a sitting position and now huddled, her knees drawn protectively to her chest.

The men grappled on the floor, Mark yelling obscenities and threats while Matthew warded off his ineffective blows,
“
You are not going to leave Mother and me to rot in the gutter simply because you don
’
t like me!
”

Matthew tired of blocking punches, and finally seized Mark
’
s wrists in an iron grip,
“
I come home to find you attempting to rape my woman,
”
he hissed angrily,
“
a
nd
you expect me to do you a favor? You can rot in hell!
”

“
What about Mother, Matthew?
”
Mark yelled in a whiny tone,
“
is she supposed to rot in hell too?
”

“
S
hut up, Mark, and get out of here.
”
Matthew
breathed
in deeply through his nose, then shoved his brother away from him and pushed himself off the floor.
“
I can
’
t think when I
’
m this
angry, especially when all I want to do is beat your face to a pulp, after ripping your arms out of your sockets and shoving them down your throat.
”

“
A
ll this over a woman?
”
Mark squealed and found himself a half-inch off the ground, his silk collar again crushed in Matthew
’
s large fists.

“
My woman
, a
nd
you are on my very last nerve, Mark, so either heed my advice and go, or leave the room minus your teeth and other vital parts, and if you step even one foot near Marcelle
’
s person again . . .
”

Matthew dropped Mark as quickly as he
’
d picked him up and wiped his hands
along
the front of his pants, his face twisted in disgust.
“
Just get out.
”

Mark stumbled to the study door, wiping his sleeve across his bloodied nose.
“
I
’
m not leaving
Wisconsin
without you, Matthew, so keep that in mind. Daragh Steel belongs to me!
”

“
Get out!
”
Matthew roared.

The study door slammed with a loud bang and Marcelle winced. She looked up as Matthew approached, his
blue
eyes still blazing with barely controlled rage. She smiled hesitantly when he stopped in front of her and lowered a hand to help her rise.
When she placed her hand into his proffered one, she found herself yanked off the floor and straight into his embrace.

“
A
re
you okay?
”
He asked, his words escaping on a shaky whisper. When she didn
’
t answer, he hugged her closer still, fearful that he might not have been able to save her from defilement.
“
A
nswer me, Marcelle.
A
re
you hurt?
”

Matthew felt a barely perceptible
shake
of her head against his chest and sighed, tears of
relief welling in his eyes. She was unharmed. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the sight of his brother on top of her, only moments away from claiming what he had no right to claim.

Marcelle could barely draw breath, but she didn
’
t protest. She felt safe. When she thought of what might have happened if not for Matthew
’
s timely arrival
–
the shivers started and then the tears. She clung to Matthew like a shipwreck victim to a life preserver.

“
A
h, honey, don
’
t cry,
”
Matthew whispered into her hair.
“
You
’
re safe now.
”

When her tears only intensified, Matthew scooped her up into his arms and walked over to the desk. He sat down in the large, overstuffed
leather
chair and rocked her gently back and forth like a
father
an overly distraught child. The breasts pressing into his chest, however, were anything but childlike and he had to focus on the top of her head to prevent his body reacting in a way that would most likely upset her further.

A
fter
a short
while,
he heard her breathing even out and realized that she
’
d fallen asleep.

“
Get some rest, darling,
”
he murmured
.
“
I
’
ll be here. Nothing is going to hurt you again. I promise.
”
He laid his head back on the top of the chair and within minutes, slumber claimed his enervated mind as well.

That was how Marcelle
’
s
father
found them the following morning.

“
What in blue blazes is going on in here?
”
Peter asked, trying to keep his voice level and his temper under control.

Matthew jerked awake and leapt to his feet, forgetting about Marcelle until she landed with a thud on the wooden floor. He winced as her head smacked the side of the desk and she let out a yelp.

He reached down and offered her a hand up, a sheepish grin on his face,
“
So
rry about that, but your
father
gave me a fright.
”

Marcelle rubbed her temple,
turned,
and faced her dad, a blush on her cheeks at
his
having
caught her
in what appeared to be a compromising position.
Her swollen lips and disheveled clothing helped matters not at all.

“
I do believe an explanation is in order, Matthew,
”
he said, eyeing the young man angrily.

“
A
nd
you would be right,
”
he said and then turned to address Marcelle.
“
Go clean up and I
’
ll explain things to your dad.
”

Marcelle lowered her gaze in embarrassment at the reminder of the previous evening, and merely nodded her head. When she moved near her
father
’
s side, his hand reached out to delay her departure.

“
Just tell me you
’
re okay and I
’
ll forgo killing him.
”

Marcelle smiled slightly at her
father
’
s misplaced chivalry and kissed his cheek lightly,
“
Just hear him out,
Father
, or you
’
ll be killing the wrong man.
”
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled softly at Matthew. He returned the smile and then waved her out of the room.

“
When you
’
ve changed, come down. I want to talk with you, okay?
”
Matthew said. Marcelle nodded and left, closing the door softly behind her.

Matthew rubbed a tired hand over his face and lowered himself back down into the chair. It had been a very trying night.
His
heartbeat
increased when he remembered how close his brother had come to defiling Marcelle and how close he
’
d come to disregarding their telegram and not returning to the house immediately.
A
shudder ran down his spine at that. If he
’
d followed his initial instinct and stayed away . . . he shuddered again.

“
Why don
’
t you share whatever it is that
’
s got you trembling over there,
”
Peter said, lowering himself into the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

Matthew ran a hand wearily through his hair and sighed heavily
.
“
W
hen
I was just shy of my eighteenth birthday,
”
he began softly,
“
I caught my younger brother raping a servant girl. She was just twelve and he was fourteen. My
father
’
s influence, money, and power swept the entire incident under a rug. Nine months later, she gave birth to a stillborn boy and committed suicide shortly thereafter. I left home a month later. I didn
’
t want to be a part of that kind of perversion.
From conversations with my mother over the years, my
father
used his money and influence to take care of quite a few
more incidents that are similar
.

A
ny
way, it would appear that my brother is still a randy rooster. Still attempting to force what women are more than willing to give him freely simply because of who he is. I
’
ll never understand it. It
’
s as if controlling one of the most profitable steel enterprises isn
’
t enough for him. He needs to feel more power over people, the son-of-a . . .
so, anyway
, when I got your telegram advising me that he
’
d shown up here, I was tempted to stay away. I didn
’
t even think of why he was here, just that I didn
’
t want to see him
;
and
then I remembered that young girl and the rest of them, thought of Marcelle, and something inside me went cold.
”

“
Your brother did that to my baby girl?
”

Matthew nodded, rubbing his hand across the beard he
’
d allowed to grow while he was gone.
I
’
ll have to shave this
, he thought distractedly.

“
Did he . . . ?
”
Peter started, unable to voice his fears.

Matthew shook his head and Peter sighed.

“
If he had, I
’
d have killed him myself,
”
Matthew assured him.

Peter nodded,
“
W
hat
do you propose we do about him?
”

Marcelle
’
s shouts from the top of the landing cut
Matthew
’
s response short
.
He
looked at Peter and then bounded out of his chair and ran to the door.

“
What is it? What
’
s wrong?
”
He asked, taking the stairs two at a time.

“
If you
’
d care to follow me,
”
she said, a haughty tone in her voice. She turned and headed toward her room just as Matthew
’
s feet hit the upper landing.
A
moment later, she pushed into her room, Matthew right on her heels.

“
What in hell?
”
Matthew said, looking at Mark who was sprawled face down on Marcelle
’
s bed, snoring fitfully.
“
I don
’
t believe this,
”
he muttered, his anger from the night before returning full force.
First,
he has the nerve to attempt to rape his woman while in a drunken stupor, and then he has the audacity to bed down in her room after he
’
d warn
ed him
to stay as far away from her as space allowed.
W
ith a string of curses, he moved across the room, yanked his brother up by the back of his
shirt,
and pulled him from the bed.