Rupert’s eyes gleamed and he yanked his cravat free and pulled off his coat.

“What are you doing?” Anna pressed a hand to her stomach. It felt queasy and she guessed it had less to do with the bump on her head than it had to do with the two lumps who were getting ready to fight before her. “I can’t believe this. Anthony, please—”

“Rupert, you are a dead man.” Anthony unbuttoned his waistcoat and yanked it off, his gaze locked on the younger man. “I hope you’re prepared for this, for I owe you a good trouncing.”

Rupert’s waistcoat was already gone and he stood, fists poised, excitement and anger equally melded in his expression. “Are you through yammering yet, Greyley? Or are you going to fight?”

Anna sank back onto the settee and closed her eyes. It was worse than trying to reason with the children, and she was just too tired to deal with it. Besides, what would be the use? The worst thing that could happen would be that one of them would end up with a black eye, and somehow, in the overall events of the day, that didn’t seem all that horrible.

So Anna quietly sat while the two men circled each other warily. Anthony landed the first blow, and it almost lifted Rupert from his feet. He staggered back, recovering at just the right moment, then returned with amazing fury to land a punch to Anthony’s chin.

Anthony shook it off, but his gaze narrowed and he was more careful after that. If it hadn’t been for Rupert’s evident anger, they would have been sorely mismatched. As it was, the younger, slighter man was giving as good as he got.

Anthony feinted to the right, then came around with a smashing left hook that sent Rupert head over heels into the table. Chairs tumbled over and Anna noticed Rupert was slow to rise.

She took the opportunity to intervene. “That’s quite enough.”

Anthony’s gaze met Anna’s. A frown passed over his face. “Anna! What happened to your forehead—”

Rupert landed a punch on Anthony’s left jaw and Anthony, his attention riveted on Anna, stumbled backward, hit a low stool, and fell to the floor, hitting his head on the hard plank floor.

“Ow!” Rupert hopped up and down, holding his fist in his other hand. “My thumb!”

“Serves you right, you stubborn whelp,” Anthony muttered, climbing back to his feet, his gaze still fixed on Anna. Ignoring Rupert, he made his way to her side.

He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his, drawing in a sharp breath when he saw her forehead. “Is that from the ride here?”

“Yes, we had a little accident.”

The door flew open and a small figure dressed in pale blue stood in the bright light.

“Charlotte!” Rupert cried, tucking his bruised hand into his pocket as if to hide it.

Charlotte caught sight of Rupert’s face and gasped. Besides a lump on his head, Rupert’s left eye was rapidly swelling shut and a bloody cut graced his chin.