“I didn’t tell you about this summer.” Bayard’s sister, Clare, would kill Bayard for revealing this, but he depended upon his friends to help protect her.

“Do tell.” Ian grinned, his dimples peeking out from cheeks showing a golden brown shadow.

“The squire’s younger son—a nasty piece of work, the kind to pull legs off of frogs for a spot of fun—tried to force himself upon Clare in an empty stable.”

Ravenhurst’s icy blue eyes glittered. “Did he, now?”

“The idiot also confessed he wanted to ruin her so she’d be forced to marry him.” Bayard’s knuckles ached, and he looked down, realizing he’d clenched his hands into fists.

“Please tell me your resourceful sister did not stand for such treatment,” Ian said.

“She remembered what David taught her and hit the boy in the throat with her closed fist. She then ran out.”

“That’s my girl.” Ian grinned.

Raven sighed. “I will never again complain about David teaching your sister those fighting tricks.”

“It was so she could hold her own against the village bullies. I was surprised she remembered after all these years.”

“Bullies, suitors. Same class of chaps, don’t you think?” A lock of straight blond-streaked brown hair had fallen over Ian’s eyes, and he swiped it away impatiently.

— Excerpt from Prelude for a Lord by Camille Elliot