Alexandra

Chapter Thirty-Four

The sun was sinking in the sky by the time Tristan returned, special license in hand, to learn that Griffin was at the vineyard. A change of horses and a brisk gallop got him there just before dark. Griffin's crew was completing the pipeline, lighting lanterns to provide illumination while they finished. As Tristan rode up, one of the men approached him, holding two of the lamps.

"I was just taking these to Lord Cainewood, my lord." He nodded in the direction of the newly dug pit.

"I'll take them for you," Tristan offered, sliding off his mount. He tethered the horse and headed toward the pit, both lanterns in one hand. Slipping his other hand into his pocket, he toyed with the ring he'd detoured to Hawkridge to pick up. A simple gold band, wide but worn thin from centuries of use. A family heirloom for traditional Alexandra. Though it was plain, he hoped she would like it.

Curses were coming from the square pit. Colorful ones. Still holding the lanterns in one hand, he started down the ladder, his eyes widening as he saw what was going on inside. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" he said as he reached the bottom.

"Installing your accursed pump." Griffin's wrench slipped, eliciting another burst of strong language.

Tristan set the lanterns in a corner on the dirt floor. "I would have done it if you'd waited."

"When? In the middle of my sister's wedding night?" Griffin mopped his brow with the back of a grimy hand. "I think she'd have my head. Besides, it's time I learned how to do this myself. Given the way my luck has been running, I'm likely to need another pump or a dozen soon."

"Let me give you a hand." Tristan took the wrench.

"One of the hands you couldn't keep off my sister?" Griffin snatched it back. "No thanks."

Heedless of the dirt, Tristan leaned against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles and his arms across his chest. The pit exuded the pungent scent of recently turned earth. As fresh and sharp as his friend's mood. "You're angry with me."

"Give the man a prize."

"I didn't compromise your sister on purpose."

"No, you were sleeping. Just waltzed in there unaware. Or so you said—"

"Hey—"

"All right, I believe you." Griffin banged the wrench against a pipe, wincing at the sharp clang. "That doesn't mean I have to like it." He whacked the pipe again.

"You want to hit me?"

He looked all too intrigued by that idea. "No."

"Go on. Hit me. It'll make you feel better."

"It'll make you feel worse."

Tristan just shrugged. "You cannot but admit I deserve it."

Tapping the wrench against his palm, Griffin stared at Tristan for a few long, tense moments. Then he dropped the tool to the dirt, drew back a fist, and rammed it into his friend's shoulder.

Though pain exploded, Tristan didn't flinch. "You can do better than that."

"You're right." Griffin hauled off and punched him in the mouth.

Tristan saw stars. His friend looked wavery through his watering eyes. Tasting blood, he flexed his jaw. "Feel better?"

"Not yet." Gritting his teeth, Griffin took half a step forward and drove his fist full force into Tristan's gut.

The wind rushed out of him as he doubled over in pain and surprise. When he came up, gasping for air, he returned the favor with a blow to Griffin's face that sent him careening into the wall.

"Hey!" Griffin said.

"That's enough."

"I think not," he ground out, coming back swinging. "You compromised my sister. It will never be enough."

Tristan took two punches but ducked the third, straightening to throw a left-handed jab that landed solidly in his friend's midsection. Griffin retaliated with a right-handed hit that was even harder. From there, Tristan lost track. The blows flew fast and furious until finally they both stood there, panting and exhausted, neither of them possessing the energy to continue.

Griffin dropped to sit on the dirt floor, his legs sprawled out before him, his face cradled in both hands. "I think you broke my nose."

"No, I didn't. You're such a widgeon." Leaning against the wall above him, Tristan spit out blood. "I think you loosened my teeth."

"I hope so." Griffin grinned up at him, then winced. "You feel worse now, don't you? Just as I predicted."

Tristan slid down to sit beside him, groaning at new assorted aches. "Nothing you do could make me feel worse. Believe it or not, I'm more upset at this turn of events than you are."

"I don't believe it. You didn't just ruin two of your sisters' lives."

"No, I ruined three of your sisters' lives instead."

"Three? Alexandra was dying to marry you."

But the way Tristan saw it, she could die because she married him. Who knew what he might do the next time he sleepwalked? He was scared stiff.

"Besides," Griffin added, "she's going to clear your name, and then no one's lives will be ruined."

"She's going to what?"

"She's determined to find your uncle's killer."

"My uncle didn't have a killer. He died in his sleep."

Griffin began to shake his head, then apparently thought better of it. "I told her you'd say that." 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This chapter is dedicated to nonviolent problem-solving, because boys are weird. :)

Happy holidays, everyone! Hope you enjoyed Chapter 34 of ALEXANDRA, and thanks for your votes, comments, and shares!

xoxo,

Devon

P.S. I'll be posting new chapters of ALEXANDRA each week, but if you'd rather binge-read the rest of the book now, it's currently on sale at Amazon for just 99¢!

And if you'd like to see Alexandra's sisters find love (while Juliana pulls off a daring matchmaking scheme and Corinna launches her art career) check out the next two books in the Regency Chase Brides series!

http://royall.ink/Alexandra/Amazon

http://royall.ink/Juliana/Amazon

http://royall.ink/Corinna/Amazon