"We're late but we're here." Lizzie squealed. "I'm so excited. I finally get to stay the entire show."

Atlas smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. They settled in the family booth.

"You brought her?"

"Shut-up Robert." Lizzie hit his arm.

"You're late." The Marquess of Shirewest shot a look to his elder son.

"Your daughter was taking forever to pick a dress." Atlas replied smoothly.

Lizzie nodded eagerly.

"And you look beautiful darling."

"Thank you papa." Lizzie whispered as she kissed her father's cheek.

Matthew rolled his eyes.

Atlas straightened up and stared at the booth to the left. Marquess of Eastbrook had came today. Next to him was Lady Candlewood. Her eyes glazed over. Her fingers tearing the pamphlet in her lap into little tiny pieces. She seemed stiff, unnatural.

Feeling eyes on her persons, she shifted her gaze to the right, meeting Atlas' grey eyes. She tried to offer up a polite smile, but he saw the way her bottom lip trembled. She looked away as if in pain, lips pursed.

Next to her, the usual radiant Azalea seemed to have lost some of her color. Her eyes blank, her expression forlorn as she simply stared at a spot on the stage unblinkingly.

"is it just me, or does Miss. Azalea Candlewood look unwell." Matthew whispered to his eldest brother. "I tried saying hello earlier, and it was like she saw right through me."

"I don't know little brother." Atlas whispered back.

Robert Worthington's eyes drifted from the stage to land on a blond head. That head turned as Lord Grant met his eyes from down below. Startling icy blue eyes.

Lizzie leaned forward happily as she basked in the voice of the talented opera singer. She moved her head to the music and then stopped, feeling eyes on her. She turned to the left. The handsome face of the young and recently widowed Duke of Jensen came into her line of view. His startling hazel eyes had been on her. He quickly averted his eyes, focusing back on the stage.

Oh my. Lizzie remembered meeting him about 5 years ago. She'd thrown up on his coat, after having stuffed her face with way too many sweets. He'd been handsome then, but the half Italian Duke was even more so now.

She felt her stomach flop as she swallowed hard. She was finding it harder to breathe. She threw another glance his way, but he didn't look in her direction again.

Lizzie inhaled sharply as she tried to focus on the stage. Her heart rising. The Duke of Jensen. She smiled inwardly and shot him another look. The duke blinked and looked down at the cane in his hand. He discreetly looked back at the young woman across from him.

Lizzie gave him a small shy smile. He didn't return it and looked quickly back at the stage.

She grimaced and held her stomach. He probably remembered her throwing up on him and hated her guts for it. She nervously rubbed the back of her neck.

Atlas settled back in his seat as he focused on the bottom booth to the right. Lord Campote, smiling with his mother. The green eyed devil staring back at the opera singer in appreciation.

Atlas' jaw locked, a snarl on the edge of his lips. His vision turning red. A high pitched ringing in his ear as he stared unblinking at the viscount. Atlas Ragnar Worthington, future Marquess of Shirewest wanted blood. He glared down the seemingly happy man. And as a descendent of Vikings, when he wanted blood, he got blood.

**

"Lord Worthington!"

Atlas turned in surprise to Azalea rushing down the stairs of the grand hall towards him. "Miss. Azalea Candlewood. Always a pleasure."

The beautiful sister wrung her fingers together in panic as she looked around.

"Are you unwell?" Atlas asked, even though he knew clearly what might have been troubling her.

"I'm sorry, you were....you were the first of the Worthington brothers to come---to come out of the booth." she whispered urgently, looking around as if she didn't have enough time.

"Is something the matter?"

Azalea swallowed hard as she stared at his chest. "We uh-----we don't----we don't have any brothers Lord Worthington....and uhm..." she swallowed hard. "Uhm...my uncle is....too upset with me to listen to anything I might have to say."

"Whatever's troubling you, I'm sure you can discuss with your uncle later. "Atlas nodded politely at her. "I do have some business to attend." He nodded at her again and turned around.

"It's about Lavender." Azalea called out desperately.

Atlas froze, his back to her. He took a deep breath and turned around slowly. "Go, on."

Azalea's bottom lip trembled. "He lied....he lied...he told me the back garden with the statues....I know he did....he said it." she whispered desperately. "I wouldn't make that mistake." Azalea swallowed hard as she looked around quickly. "I'm only a girl, I can't----I can't call him out on a duel Lord Worthington. I can't....I can't fight for my sister's honor. But I can-----we have money----my dowry...."

"Miss. Candlewood." Atlas said calmly. "Duels are illegal."

She shook her head. "But---but I know that----"

"Why don't you get some rest." He gently touched her shoulder. "Maybe in the morning, everything will have worked out."

"But Lord Worthington, he hurt-----"

"Get some rest." Atlas instructed seriously cutting her off. "Do not worry about him. Everything will work out in the morning." he nodded to her and turned and walked away.

Azalea blinked in confusion. She hadn't even told him who.

**

"Whoo Worthington, ready to place some more bets?" Simon asked, patting the Lord Worthington on the back as soon as he entered the smokey house.

Atlas searched the nosey room. The stench of smoke, alcohol and sex filled his nostrils. "Not today, old sport." He rolled up his sleeves and headed towards the back of the house.

"Lord Worthington!" A hand immediately pressed against his chest. Curly black hair and pouty red lips looked up at him. "I've been dreadfully bored."

"Not now Mina." Atlas removed her hands from his body and moved her to the side.

"Why because that singing bitch is in town?" she demanded.

Atlas ignored her as he stared at the closed red door before him. He took a deep breath to settle his anger.

"Password?"

Atlas glared at him. "Fuck off Gerald."

Gerald blocked him. "Hey you know the------ugghhh."

"I know the what?" Atlas slammed him against the wall by his throat.

A couple gentlemen and whores shot them a look, but in this day and age, people knew when to mind their business.

Gerald tried to talk as Atlas squeezed his fat neck tighter.

"Do I need a password Gerald?"

The bald guy gasped as he shook his head frantically.

Atlas released him and he crumbled to the floor on his knees. "Thank you." The eldest Worthington said with a charming smile as he turned the knob and walked in.

He was greeted by a dark room illuminated in red lights. Completed naked women either danced in laps or were serving the drinks. He walked slowly, eyeing the room. He gave a polite nod to the Viscount of Belfiar, who had a young redhead between his legs. He nodded to the Earl of Courts who had two girls dancing for him. He passed by the Baron of Steward who was currently fucking a skinny blond against the table. He gave a slow nod to the Duke of Jensen, currently sitting alone with a drink in his hand. A tall sultry brunette came before him and reached out.

The duke put his hand out to stop her. "I'm only watching, go entertain elsewhere." The half Italian turned his hazel eyes to the man walking the room with a purpose.

"Atlas, old friend. Haven't seen you here in quiet some time."

Atlas walked over to him. "Still unable to sample what life so graciously places in front of you?" he teased.

Duke of Jensen chuckled. "I should be asking you the same thing." He looked around. "We used to eat these girls for breakfast. What happened to us?"

"You fell in love and got married." Atlas answered. "Again Pablo, I'm sorry about Sara."

The duke brushed off the latter comment with swig of his drink. "I know what happened to me. What happened to you?" the duke arched an eyebrow in amusement.

"I'm not as bored as before." Atlas answered sharply.

The duke smirked knowingly. "So what are you doing here tonight?"

"I'm looking for somebody." Atlas answered, craning his neck. He stopped when he caught the the mopey brown hair that looked red under the light.

Pablo raised his glass. "Well God, rest his soul."

"He won't meet him." Atlas responded as he stalked to the back right corner.

Lord Campote's hands were on the ass in front of him. He bit down on his bottom lip and smacked it playfully.

Atlas grabbed the startled woman's arm and shoved her away. "Out."

Jeffrey looked up in drunken confusion. "Lord Worthington." He chuckled.

Atlas didn't bother a response as he brought his fist back and connected it with the viscount's nose. People close by gasped as they took a couple steps back. Atlas grabbed the viscount's collar, brought his fist back and punched him again. His fist pulled back and crashed with the young man's face again and again, ignoring the pain shooting up his knuckles, indicating he himself had broken a finger or dislocated it.

"Enough! Worthington Enough! Unhand him."

Atlas shoved back the two guys that had came for him and resumed plummeting Jeffrey's face into the ground. The later not having an opening or opportunity to land any punches back.

"WORTHINGTON!"

He was yanked back again.

Atlas elbowed whoever was behind him and reached inside his pocket and pulled out his revolver.

The room grew deadly silent as he dropped to the ground. He cocked the gun, his thumb pressing back on the hammer, his finger on the trigger. He pressed the muzzle against Lord Campote's bloody forehead. Grey eyes looked at terrified and bloody green eyes. His finger twitched back to pull the trigger.

"No Atlas Worthington." Prince Bertie stepped forward. "You know the rules, no murder in our safe haven."

Atlas pressed the muzzle further into the skull of the man, laying in his own blood below him. He was tempted to ignore the second child of her majesty queen Victoria, but knew that defiance would cost him his life. And then what would become of Lavender and her future?

Atlas growled loudly and smacked the pistol across Lord Campote's bloody face. He stood up panting. "I challenge you to a duel." Atlas spat at the viscount. "In three hours time, behind the oak tree. Bring a second." He whirled around and came face to face with the prince.

Prince Bertie, gave him an acknowledging nod and stepped aside. Everybody in the room knew the rules. Nothing ever left this room. Secrets were tied to life. "I thought Scotland was supposed to quiet that Viking temper of yours Lord Worthington." The Prince stated.

"Apparently it came back." Atlas muttered as he stormed out of the room.

The Duke of Jensen shook his head and chuckled. "So, a lady happened to you too dear friend." He lifted his glass and immediately received his refill.

Atlas walked through the grand house and opened, door after door, until he found who he was looking for.

His youngest brother rolling naked on the red sheets between two bodies.

"Get up, get dressed."

"What? Now?" Robert asked, climbing off the bed

The brunette sat up sexily. "Would you like to join us Lord Worthington?"

The blond guy quickly hid his face as he tried to pick up his clothes. "It isn't what it looks like." He called out defensively.

Atlas shrugged. "It's Robert. I'm pretty sure, it's exactly what it looks like." He turned back to his brother. "Let's go!" He ordered.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Robert hurriedly slipped into his shoes as his eldest brother left the room. "Hold up." He hopped out trying to button his pants. "Brother, what happened?" He demanded as they rushed out down the hallway.

"I want blood." Atlas stated calmly.

Robert stopped as his brother continued walking without a backwards glance. "Oh fuck...." he whispered. He quickly tucked in his shirt and ran after his brother.

**

"Have you two lost your ever loving mind?" Matthew whispered fervently.

Atlas handed Robert their father's case of dueling pistols to examine.

"You know what to do right?" Atlas asked Matthew.

The middle child looked up completely perplexed. "Yes! But-----"

"Good, father nor Lizzie will hear of this. If anything happens, publish this." He handed Matthew the letter he'd just written and signed. "It'll take care of Miss. Candlewood."

Matthew took the letter. "Miss. Candle---Miss. Candlewood? Lavender? Jesus....what is going on." Being the nosey brother he was he opened the sealed note and started to read frantically.

Atlas grabbed his coat and flung Robert his. The younger brother grabbed it and quickly put it on.

"Oh fuck a hole." Matthew sighed and sat down. "This is bullshit. You're claiming the child?"

"Are you going to take care of her." Atlas asked simply as he fastened his button.

"Yes! You know I will! But you can't possibly-----"

"It's just preliminaries Matthew." Atlas assured him. "I don't intend on dying tonight."

"Ready?" Robert asked.

"And you!" Matthew pointed accusingly to the youngest brother. "You just always follow blindly to his stupid notions. As if I'm the only one in this family with a braincell!"

"I'm a ride or die Matthew." Robert grinned leaning over and kissing his brother's nose. "Which is why he always chooses me." he patted his brother's cheek hard. "Keep hope alive."

"Let's go." Atlas nodded.

Matthew groaned loudly but knew there was no way to stop his brothers from doing what they were about to do.

**

"Thank you for coming doctor." Atlas shook the old man's hand.

Doctor Franklin sighed. "Make it clean Worthington." He tried to move but Atlas held on to the doctor's arm. He looked back at Lord Campote and his second arriving on horseback. Atlas turned back to the doctor and took a step forward. "Let him bleed." He whispered in his ear.

Doctor Franklin sighed and waved the young man away. Doctor Franklin went over to greet Lord Campote and his second. A brief handshake and he moved over to the side.

Robert went up to Lord Campote's second and showed him the pistols so he could examine them.

Atlas and Jeffrey walked towards each other, underneath the oak tree. The latter's face still severely swollen, one eye black and blue.

"Worthington."

"Campote."

They shook arms. Atlas gripped Jeffrey's arm tightly.

Robert cleared his throat. "It is my duty to asked if anybody would like to make any reconciliation and forgoe this duel?" He turned to Lord Campote. "I'm looking at you because my brother is not going to change his mind."

Lord Campote spat on the ground and lifted his head. "We will continue with the duel."

"Oh boy...well alright your death. Okay guys, we know the rules. Make it quick." Robert placed the pistols in front of them. Atlas nodded for Jeffrey to have his first pick, and then he picked the second one. "You will walk 10 paces out and when I count to three, you may fire your weapon at any time."

They both turned and walked out. Atlas taking his time, he counted 10 paces and stopped. He took a deep breath. Rage filling him once more.

"It doesn't matter....I'm no longer pure for you." - you don't have to be

"1!"

"Please, Atlas, please....just leave." - I can't leave you

"2!"

"It was....Lord....Campote."- I'll kill him

"3!"

Atlas turned around and pointed his pistol. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, feeling something whiz by his ear. He heard a groan as Lord Campote grabbed his chest and fell to the ground. Pistol out Atlas walked over to him.

Lord Campote's second Lord Fletcher knelt by his friend's side. "Quick doctor!"

Atlas hovered over the struggling man on the ground. He pointed his pistol again, this time to his head.

"Hey!" Lord Fletcher, pulled out his revolver and pointed it at Atlas. "It's over, you won the duel!"

Robert cocked his own revolver and pressed the muzzle against Lord Fletcher's temple. "It's over when we say it's over." he whispered.

Lord Fletcher stared frantically back and forth at the Worthington brothers. "Then this isn't a duel....its an execution!"

"You see." Robert put his arm around the second's shoulder. "With our father's failing health, it seems a lot of people have forgotten not to FUCK WITH THE WORTHINGTONS!"

Jeffrey tried to put his hand up. "Doc---doctor--"

Atlas pulled the trigger. This time a clean bullet going through his forehead. Lord Campote's body laid still.

Doctor Franklin sighed and looked over the body. "He's dead." he turned around with his briefcase. "Clean it up boys."

Robert patted Lord Fletcher's back. "You're gonna help or you want my bullet through your skull, so you can join your friend here."

"Robert?"

"Yeah."

"Can you get a couple friends?"

"Yep."

"Leave him in an alleyway."

"Yep."

"Make it look like the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Robert grinned. "Yep." He patted Lord Fletcher's back. "And his second is going to help every step of the way for the rest of his life or he'll have a target on his back."

Atlas nodded and handed their father's pistol back to Robert and turned around. If he stayed, he'll shoot a couple more rounds into that vile human being, just because he could.

**

"Lavender....Lavender sweetheart."

Lavender looked up from her vanity. Fiona had insisted on dressing her today, but she hadn't moved from her seat. All she wanted was to climb back into bed. "Yes mother...."

"You need to come downstairs." Rose nodded.

"I don't-----"

Lady Candlewood shook her head. She rushed over and grabbed her daughter's arm. "No. You must come downstairs." she pulled and yanked her up. Scurrying down the stairs as fast possible.

"Mother what's going on? Mom?"

Lady Candlewood pushed Lavender into the receiving room where her uncle, the Marquess of Shirewest and Atlas promptly rose to their feet.

Lavender stared at them in panic, wanting to sink through the floor. Atlas offered her a reassuring smile. Her uncle nodded at her, his eyes watching her with concern.

"Miss. Candlewood." Marquess of Shirewest was the first to speak. "My son, has just informed us this morning that he took some liberties with you that may have resulted....." the Marquess turned and scowled as his eldest son. "In defiling your honor."

Atlas looked down.

Lavender stared at him in confusion.

"But being close family friends, I would hope you would accept my sincerest apologies." The Marquess continued. "And also please accept my son's hand as he knows it's his duty to protect and honor all that is good and virtuous in this world."

Her heart sank at what Atlas was doing. Why? He deserved better. "Lord Worthington..." Lavender shook her head. "Your son didn't do----"