dared a glance back towards his wife and his stomach clenched. Don't lose control, Christopher. You can't help her if you're not thinking straight. Embrace the cold.

“I am not a bastard!” Giovanni shrieked. “And she is mine. My child. My property. Mine she to discipline.”

“Not anymore. Now she's mine to defend. You hurt my wife. My God, you

could have hurt our baby.” Christopher closed in on his adversary again. He didn't say another word. Instead, he drove a furious fist into Giovanni's jaw, quickly followed by another blow, this time to the gut.

Giovanni doubled over.

“ Your wife's brother fought you when he was sixteen and won. He was a child, you fool, strong, but surely untrained and inexperienced. Let's see how you fare against someone who knows what he's doing.”

Christopher's cold rage flared into heat, a fire that sought to consume his enemy until his lifeblood drained across the floor. Without another word, he brought every one of his skills to bear now and inflicted on his father-in-law the

thrashing of a lifetime.

He kept hitting the older man long after he fell to the floor in surrender, submitting in terror to a shower of blows from which he could not escape.

He would undoubtedly have beaten Giovanni to death had not James and

Colin finally pulled him back.

“That's enough, Chris,” Colin said softly, “you'll kill him.”

“He deserves it,” Christopher snarled, wrenching his arms against his friends'

grip.

“I know, but you need to stop,” James urged.

“He hurt her!”

“He did,” Colin agreed. “It's terrible. It should never have happened, but don't kill him. Don't become a murderer. Come, you need to see to your wife.”

“What about this piece of shit?” Christopher poked at his father-in-law with

his toe.

“I'll take care of him,” James volunteered. “Go on, Chris. Katerina needs you.”

“Listen now, Valentino.” Standing menacingly over his father-in-law's

twitching body, Christopher spoke in a voice cold enough to freeze a steam boiler. “If I ever see your sorry arse again, even by accident, you will die.”

He let his friend lead him away.

James looked down at the beaten man and shook his head. “Well, Mister

Valentine,” he said sarcastically, intentionally mispronouncing his name, “you're

certainly in a world of trouble now. I've never seen him this angry. You'd better

get the hell out of England while you can and pray to God Katerina and the baby

both come through, or I'm quite sure he will hunt you down to the ends of the earth and disembowel you alive."

He realized he had blood on his trousers. Disgusting. "You know… there's a ship leaving for America in the morning. Maybe you should plan to be on it.

Because I'm certain of one thing—he was not exaggerating. He will kill you if he gets the chance, and London isn't so big people can't meet by accident.”

He hoisted the battered man to his feet. Blood poured from Giovanni's nose

and mouth, and he spat a tooth onto the floor. He stared at James in silence.

“I would offer to pray for your soul,” the young vicar said, “but I wouldn't be

able to do it. I saw what you did to her too. Now get out.”

James wrenched the door open and shoved Giovanni hard, sending him

stumbling down the stairs to land in a crumpled heap on the sidewalk below.

He slammed the door and then hurried into the parlor, where a piteous

tableau awaited. Katerina lay unconscious on the sofa. Christopher knelt beside

her, clutching her hand to his cheek. Colonel Turner gingerly touched Katerina's

head with one fingertip. “I hated to move her, not knowing how badly she's injured.”

“I know, but it wasn't safe there, not with that fight going on,” his wife replied, though she looked just as alarmed as her husband. She laid a hand on Katerina's belly, her focus shifting away from the conversation.

“Has anyone called for a doctor?” James asked.

“Yes. Your wife just went to send the housekeeper to fetch him,” Mr. Bennett

said.

“Good,” Colonel Turner said. “I'm worried about her head injury.”

Christopher looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Why won't she

wake up?”

“I'm afraid she's got a skull fracture,” the colonel said, his face twisted with

concern.