“Sherry, if you have it,” she answered.
He did. Pouring another glass for her, he carried it to where she stood. Afraid that Meredith might have done something to force the issue, he asked again, “What sort of incident?”
“Fighting,” she replied. “He’s gotten into a bit of trouble for fighting. He can’t abide seeing other boys bullied there. And so many young boys engage in bullying.”
Truth, but not the entire truth, he determined. “You’re worried about Meredith. I promise you, Aurora, I will take care of things.”
She shook her head. “I’m not worried about her. Not now. All will be well. I’m certain of it.”
Gavin frowned. “You were not so certain earlier today. What has changed?”
Aurora’s smile was rather inscrutable. It appeared both self deprecating and mocking at the same time. “I’ve altered my perspective. That is all. But I do not wish to discuss Meredith. I did not come here for her. I came here, Gavin, for us.”
His pulse quickened. “And what is it that you want for us?”
“It starts with significantly fewer articles of clothing,” she said. She placed her glass o sherry on a nearby table and then she was reaching for his cravat, stripping it expertly away.
“We always wind up rushing,” he said breathlessly, even as he was walking her backwards toward the settee that faced the fireplace. The hearth was empty, no fire crackling, but they were making enough heat of their own that it was not missed.
Easing down onto the settee, Gavin felt her legs hitch high on his thighs. “We’re still wearing all of our clothes.”
“Just hurry,” she urged. “I don’t care.”
Her urgency spurred his own. The need was always there, like a banked fire, and with so little effort, she could send it roaring to life.
Tugging her skirts upward, Gavin eased one hand between her thighs, stroking her flesh. She moaned beneath him, arching her back and urging him on. Even then, she was reaching for the fall of his breeches, freeing the buttons there.
Still fully clothed, they came together quickly in a clash of bodies. Their lips moving hungrily over one another’s even as he drove himself into her again and again. It wasn’t lovemaking. What passed between them in those moments was primal and animalistic. It was all about heat and need. Lovemaking was far too refined a term for it.
Hurried, fevered, racing to the finish for them both, Gavin was panting. The sound of his breathing, harsh and ragged, was covered by her soft cries and moans. Then she went quiet, as she often did as she hovered on that precipice. Her lips parted on a silent gasp, her eyes fluttered closed and then her body began to quake, her muscles quivering and the walls of her sex clenching rhythmically around him. Gavin was lost to his own pleasure then, unable to hold back any longer.
For the longest time, they lay there on that settee, their bodies tangled together in rumpled clothing and twined limbs. Slowly, their breathing returned to normal and the weight of the silence became heavier and heavier.
“I cannot help but feel you have come here to end our arrangement,” Gavin observed.
“I have not come to end it but to pause it. I think, until things are cleared away with Mrs. Brandon and Will is safely back at school, that we should not see one another again. We are tempting fate and poking at a vicious animal with it who would attack as soon as look at us.”
“It’s only the money that she’s after—”
“Are you really so blind?” Aurora demanded.
Gavin shook his head. “No, I am not.”
“Money is only part of it, Gavin. She wants your position. She wants to be a duchess and lord it over society. You can tell her you’ll disclaim it all by exposing yourself as illegitimate, but she will find a way to have all that she wants. That is what women like her and men like my late husband do. They find ways to have what they want regardless of whom they may hurt in the process!”
“I can take care of this. She will go away, and we can continue in peace,” he said. “I promise you.”
She rose then, pushing at his shoulder until he eased back from her and she could get up entirely. “I don’t wish to fight with you about this. But do not underestimate her simply because she is female.”
“I do not!”
“You do,” she said, her exasperation clear. “You think her incapable of violence and easily placated by your offer, which is nothing in comparison to what she would have as your wife… or your widow.”
Gavin stared at her for a moment. “I know that she is very capable of being a villain.”
“But you assume the depths of her villainy are dictated by her sex. That she will lie and sneak and connive. You do not think she would see you dead and then claim to be your wife? That she wouldn’t produce some child procured from a workhouse and claim him as her own son so that she might present an heir to the dukedom and not have to forfeit any of it?”
Those were things he had not considered, things that had never entered his thoughts. Was he underestimating her? “Do you know that she is planning this?”
Aurora shook her head sadly. “No. I’m telling you this because if I were in her position, it is what I would do. You do not simply underestimate her, Gavin. You underestimate us all. I must go.”
“Do not leave this way, Aurora. Not when we do not know when we will see one another again,” Gavin urged. He wouldn’t beg, but he had the greatest fear that if she walked out his door that night, he might never see her again.
Her expression softened, and she moved toward him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. “It isn’t goodbye. All will be right again in a manner of days. We simply must bide our time.”
Gavin watched as she donned her cloak, as she took several steps toward the door. Panic. It ran through him like a wash of cold water. “Aurora! Wait”
She turned back. “Yes?”
“I will see you again, won’t I?”
“I have said as much.”
“I care for you,” he stated stiffly. “A great deal. I do not wish to part this way.”
A soft smile lit her face for a moment. “And I care for you, also. A fact I would have thought impossible based upon our first meeting. Yet here we are, not parting, only saying a brief adieu. Good night, Gavin.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The first rays of the morning sun hadn’t even started to filter through the leaden clouds as Aurora dressed. She donned a simple walking dress of dark burgundy wool and then braided her hair into a coronet. The last thing she needed was for it to blow in her eyes at a fateful moment.
When she had finished, Aurora reached down to her dressing table for more pins to secure it. Her hand brushed the leather box containing the necklace Gavin had gifted her the night before. It was truly the loveliest piece of jewelry she owned. Delicate, feminine, sweet and not at all ostentatious, it represented her much more than anything her late husband or even Algernon had presented her with. Their gifts, while generous, had been given based on the value of the object and not because the object represented her in anyway.
It had been the hardest thing in the world to walk away from him the night before. But she couldn’t risk him staying the night in her home and interfering in her plans for the day. If he knew what she was about, he would definitely find a way to call a halt to it, regardless of how necessary it was.
Grabbing the same heavy cloak she’d worn the day before, Aurora draped it over her shoulders and left the house by way of the servants’ quarters. She’d bribed one of the stable lads by tossing down a coin to him the night before to have a mount waiting for her before sunrise. Entering the stable, she found the horse saddled and ready.
The boy was there holding the reins. He led the great beast over to the mounting block, and Aurora pushed herself up into the saddle.
“Do you need me to accompany you, my lady?” the boy asked.
“No, not today, thank you.”
“I don’t like
you riding out alone in the dark. It’s not safe.”
“It will be fine,” she said. “Thank you for your work. You did an excellent job.”
Leaving the puzzled boy staring after her, Aurora clicked her tongue and the horse trotted forward. Once she reached the mews, she allowed him to have his head a bit more. He pranced forward, mane cascading over his neck in a glorious display. Patting the thick and sturdy neck of the large bay, she whispered to him, “Off to Hampstead Heath and a date with destiny, Leopold!”
Behind her, the stable lad fingered the two coins that now rattled in his pocket. One was from her ladyship for having the mount ready. The other was from the Duke of Westerhaven, who’d come by late at night and asked for information about Lady Sheffield. It hadn’t seemed like a betrayal to tell the man what she’d asked for—a readied horse before sunrise. Certainly, it seemed like information he was entitled to given how frequently he visited with her ladyship.
And now, having overheard the whispered comment Lady Sheffield had uttered to the horse about their final destination, he was more certain than ever that he should tell the duke everything. No good ever occurred on the Heath, certainly not for ladies.
With that in mind, the boy broke into a run. Cutting through mews and gardens, he made his way to Park Lane and the duke’s grand house. He knocked loudly on the kitchen door, and a bleary-eyed cook let him in, though she looked as if she’d like to box his ears.
“I’ve got an urgent message for his grace!”
“Aye, I know. He said you’d be calling,” the older woman groused. “Get on with you. Up them stairs and down the corridor. Second room on the left. It’s his study.”
The boy followed her instructions and found the door to that room open. The duke was inside, standing in the center of the room still wearing the same evening clothes he’d worn when he paid the visit the night before.
“You have news?”
“Yes, Your Grace. She’s bound for Hampstead Heath.”
The duke’s face paled. “The Heath? Are you certain?”
“Aye, my lord. She refused to let anyone accompany her, but I heard her whispering to her horse—she does that sometimes—about where they was headed.”
The duke tossed him another coin. “Thank you. Return to your work.”
“Is your mount ready, sir? I suspect you’ll be going after her.”
“It’s taken care of,” the duke stated. “But thank you for asking. Be off with you now. If you’re missed, I imagine it will not go well for you.”
The carriage stopped on the graveled lane and eased into the grass next to the road. On one squab seat, Percy and Olivia were seated together. On the other seat, Meredith Brandon faced them.
“Will she show?” the woman demanded.
“She will show,” Percy stated emphatically. “Lady Sheffield is unaccountably brave. She is also kind and generous, though I daresay you do not understand such things.”
“I understand that she and your husband were lovers at some point,” Mrs. Brandon stated. She was dressed in a gown of dark-green worsted wool, that she had selected from Olivia’s wardrobe.
“That is hardly the point,” Percy stated, but her voice quavered a bit. She was not yet so secure in her marriage that having her husband’s past affairs tossed in her face was an easy thing to tolerate.
A moment later, the footman came round and opened the door. “The physician is here, my lady, but he is most displeased to have been called out here for what he perceives to be some sort of jest. He says women can’t duel.” The servant’s tone indicated that he was in agreement.
“He will be well paid for his time, jest or not,” Olivia stated. “That is all that matters.” She reached into her reticule and retrieved a series of coins. “Take those to him and tell him to stay precisely where he is and more will be coming to him.”
“Yes, my lady.” The footman nodded. He helped her down then helped the other women down as well. Then he was off to the nay-saying physician.
“They never think us capable,” Mrs. Brandon mused. “Never.”
In that moment, three women who ought to have been enemies, found a moment of solidarity in one another by virtue of their positions as members of the so-called weaker sex.
The moment was broken by the sound of horses hooves striking the hard packed earth of the lane. The hoofbeats sounding in the distance prompted Olivia to look up. It was a sight to behold, Aurora riding hell bent for leather onto the field, her dark cloak billowing behind her. She dismounted with ease and tethered her horse to a nearby tree. It would be far enough away from the dueling field that he should not be spooked.
“I must speak with Lady Sheffield,” Olivia stated.
“You are my second,” Mrs. Brandon pointed out.
“But I am still her friend, and until this farce is underway, I mean to act like it,” Olivia snapped.
Crossing the expanse of the field, Olivia stopped in front of the woman who had been her brother’s paramour and who had, through strange circumstances indeed, become her friend and a partner in crime.
Aurora glanced over her shoulder. “I see she did not try to make an escape. That is good at least.”
“Perhaps you should try to make an escape. It isn’t too late to stop this nonsense before someone is hurt, Aurora,” Olivia insisted.
“Someone will be hurt, Olivia. But it will not be me. I mean to put a stop to this once and for all.”
“You mean to kill her, then?”
Aurora’s eyebrows arched upward in shock. “No! Heavens no. I do mean to shoot her, but I will not be aiming to kill. I want her wounded. I want her to know that I have the power to hurt her or even to kill her. I need her to know that about me so that when she leaves this place she will not be tempted to come back. She must understand that she is not the only one of us who has the courage to do what is necessary!”
Olivia sighed. “I wish I could disagree with you, but sadly, I think there are some people in this world who will only understand a demonstration of force. Are you certain you can do this?”
“I’m certain. No one will ever threaten my son again. Ever.” Aurora uttered that statement with complete conviction.
“Right. We’ll get underway, then.”
Within minutes, the four women were gathered together in the center of the field, the physician standing nearby, alternately scoffing and calling them fools before resuming the counting of his coins.
“Is he the best you could do?” Percy asked.
Olivia cocked one eyebrow at her. “I hired him in Cheapside. Should I have asked our family physician to attend our friend’s duel then?”
Percy shook her head. “No. You are quite right. It’s better that he doesn’t know us.”
Olivia opened the box containing the brace of pistols. Percy loaded one. Thankfully, she was skilled enough in the practice that it overtook any nerves she might have. Olivia loaded the other pistol and both were presented to Mrs. Brandon for her to make a choice. Ultimately, she chose the one that Olivia had loaded.
“You will walk in opposite directions, one pace each on my count. When I reach ten, you will turn and fire. If you wish to concede with honor, you will fire into the air. This is not a fight to the death,” Olivia stated. “The goal is to draw blood only. Is that clear?”
“Clear enough,” Mrs. Brandon stated. “But one can’t always control where a pistol ball goes, can one?”
“Perfectly clear,” Aurora answered. “And some of us can, indeed, control our shots.”
“One last chance to call all of this off,” Olivia stated once more.
“Never,” Aurora replied.
“I don’t back down from a fight. Not now and not ever,” Mrs. Meredith answered. “Start counting.”
Gavin spurred his mount on. He was riding at speeds that were beyond dangerous but he feared he was too late. In the distance, he could see them gathered in the center of the field. They were about to begin.
“Dammit!”
Digging his heels in, Gavin rode as fast as he could toward them. But he knew he wouldn’t make it.
The closer he came, he could hear Lady Holland calling out numbers. Then, he saw them turn. He saw them fire. And one woman fell. But from his distance he could not see who. His heart stuttered in his chest.
“Please, God, no! Do not let it be Aurora.”
Fear, cold and gripping, rippled through him, clutching at him as he made his way towards the ghastly scene.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Aurora lowered the still-smoking pistol to her side. There was a stinging sensation on her cheek. Bringing one hand up, she touched it and it came away smeared with blood. Mrs. Brandon’s shot had struck a nearby tree and sent bark spraying in all directions. Apparently, she had caught a piece of it.
The physician rushed toward Mrs. Brandon, who lay on the ground wailing.
“You shot me! You crazed bitch! You actually shot me.”
“Clearly you will live,” Aurora murmured mostly to herself. Still, she could not stand there all day and allow the opportunity to pass her by. Marching across the field toward the fallen woman and the doctor, she was aware of the distant sound of thundering hooves.
When she reached the group, she placed a staying hand on the doctor’s arm. “Before you treat her, I will have her concessions.”
On the ground, her shoulder bloody and her face streaked with tears and dirt, Meredith Brandon glowered up at her. “I’ll not concede a damned thing to you.”
“Then you will bleed to death here in the dirt or die later of infection,” Aurora stated coldly. “If you wish your wound to be treated, then you will do as I ask.”
The words had rang out with a conviction that resonated clearly for everyone present. In fact, there was nothing Aurora had ever meant more.
After a pause, and sounding slightly defeated, Mrs. Brandon asked, “What do you want?”
The Other Wife (The Dunne Family Series Book 3) Page 9
