Winter Wishes: A Regency Christmas Anthology
Page 23
Louisa frowned as they prepared to depart along with the rest of the guests the next morning. She wasn’t ready to leave. She’d enjoyed spending time with Benjamin, even if it had been with the other guests.
“Whatever is that sigh about?” her mother asked.
Louisa shrugged as she helped her mother put on her cloak. “I’m sorry to see the party come to an end.”
“Why don’t we have a Christmas Eve ball? We haven’t hosted one in a long while.”
“That would be enjoyable.” Especially if Benjamin were among the guests.
“We’ll keep it intimate with limited invitations. A light supper and some dancing. I assume you’d like to invite the Earl of Granger? It seems like the least we could do after all he’s done for us.”
“I should like that very much. Thank you, Mother.”
They entered the drawing room where the guests had gathered to say their goodbyes while they awaited their carriages. Her breath caught at the sight of him speaking with another lord near the window. She moved close but didn’t want to interrupt their conversation. From what Benjamin had mentioned, the plans for the charity were coming along well.
“Good morning, Lady Louisa,” Lord Umberley said with a bow.
Louisa returned the greeting as Benjamin turned to face her, the pleasure in his expression warming her. “Are you leaving now?”
“Yes,” she said, hoping Umberley might read her mind and step away. To her delight, he excused himself and moved away to speak with someone else. “I wanted to let you know that we’ll be hosting a Christmas Eve celebration. I hope you’ll come.”
“I’d be honored.” He smiled only to give her a mock frown. “Will there be mistletoe?”
“Most definitely,” she said with a laugh. This was the first Christmas in a long time that she looked forward to.
Chapter 10
Benjamin nodded at Aberland as he strode into Brooks’s two days later. They’d arranged to meet at the club as Aberland had expressed interest in joining the charity. Benjamin couldn’t have been more pleased. He knew Aberland was doing his best to extricate himself from the spying business now that he and Caroline were to marry. Involving himself in the charity would allow him to still take part in helping England.
“Are you in need of additional contributors?” Aberland asked as a waiter brought their drinks.
“Always. More funds mean a wider reach. However, I think we have enough involved with the planning.”
Aberland chuckled. “Too many opinions make getting anything accomplished nearly impossible.”
“Exactly.” Before Benjamin could say more, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
“Granger.” Viscount Gibbon stood beside them, his lips pressed in a thin line as his eyes glittered with a strange light. “A word, if you please.”
Benjamin frowned, noting Gibbon’s younger brother standing behind the angry viscount. “Of course.”
“Your insult to our sister cannot be overlooked. I demand satisfaction.”
Benjamin shifted to face him, confused by his words even as unease swirled through him. The entire room silenced to listen, much to his dismay. His efforts to reform had been successful thus far. This was the last thing he needed or wanted, yet he refused to allow his honor to be questioned. “What insult?”
Gibbon leaned forward, his gaze holding on Benjamin. “You placed your hands upon her person. I expect an offer of marriage before the day’s end.”
“I did not touch Lady Adele or insult her in any way.” Anger flared at the accusation, bringing him to his feet. He refused to be forced into doing something he didn’t want to do when he’d done nothing wrong.
“Then name your second.”
“Don’t be a fool, Gibbon. You don’t want to do this. There must be some misunderstanding.”
“Are you calling my sister a liar?”
“No, but—”
“Then name your second.” Gibbon’s hands fisted at his sides.
“I’m asking you one last time not to do this. There was no insult.” While this wouldn’t be Benjamin’s first duel, he had a feeling it would be Gibbon’s. Nonetheless, Benjamin couldn’t disregard the challenge. All his work to reform might be lost, but he would not lose his honor.
“What is this?” The Marquess of Delham approached, eyes narrowed as he looked between them.
Gibbon hesitated as he looked briefly at the marquess then glared at Benjamin once again. “A matter of honor.”
“Granger, surely you intend to do the right thing and offer for the lady.” Delham’s tone held a note of disapproval.
“I’ve suggested that Gibbon review the facts before he proceeds with a challenge,” Benjamin said, his thoughts racing.
“And I’ve asked you to name your second.” Gibbon continued to glare at Benjamin.
Heart thudding, Benjamin ignored both men and turned to Aberland with a raised brow, relief filling him at Aberland’s nod of assent. “The Earl of Aberland will serve as my second.”
“Very well. My brother will act as mine. He’ll call on Aberland to determine the details on the morrow.” Gibbon gave a single nod and left, his brother following him out of the club.
Stunned at the turn of events, Benjamin watched them leave in disbelief, a terrible unease flooding him. How had this come to pass?
“This is inexcusable, Granger,” Delham said. “Make this right by offering the lady marriage. Save yourself from disgrace.”
“I will not do so when I did nothing wrong.”
“Then you can remove my name from the charity. I don’t want anything to do with a rogue such as you.” Delham strode out of the room, murmurs following from those who remained.
Benjamin shook his head as he sank to his chair. All his efforts to redeem himself had been for naught. Not only was the charity in jeopardy, but he could also imagine what Louisa would think when she heard of the duel. Actually, no, he couldn’t. His mind refused to consider it, as did his heart.
“What the hell was that about?” Aberland asked.
“I truly have no idea.” He scoured his memory for any possible insult but found none. “Lady Adele was at the Delham house party, but I certainly never touched her.”
“We shall hope the fool reconsiders. Now I better understand why the rules insist on a day’s grace before the duel. Perhaps cooler heads will prevail.” Aberland waved for a waiter and ordered them both another drink. “Otherwise, I suppose this means pistols at dawn the following day.”
“I suppose it does.” But all he could think about was Louisa. How could he have done nothing wrong yet lost everything?
Louisa entered the drawing room the following afternoon to find both Caroline and Annabelle waiting. “This is a pleasant surprise,” she said as she gave first Annabelle then Caroline a hug.
As she drew back from Caroline, the tension in her cousin’s expression was impossible to ignore. “Is something amiss?”
“I’m afraid we bring bad news.” Caroline reached for Louisa’s hand and held it tight. “Granger has been challenged to a duel.”
Louisa’s breath caught, her emotions tumbling. “That can’t be.” Rogues might fight duels, but Benjamin had changed his ways. “By who?”
“Viscount Gibbon.”
“Lady Adele’s brother? Whatever for?”
Caroline released her hand as she shared a look with Annabelle. “Gibbon accused him of taking liberties with his sister.”
Louisa closed her eyes at the stunned disbelief that washed through her only to hold tight with a painful grip. She knew Benjamin was acquainted Lady Adele, but never had she noted him being anything but polite toward the shy woman. Certainly, she was attractive with a generous dowry, and thus far, her behavior had been above reproach. She would make an ideal wife, especially for a rogue. Yet she couldn’t fathom the idea.
“During Delham’s house party?” Louisa’s thoughts raced, trying to think of whether there could be any truth to the accusati
on.
Caroline nodded.
“An offer of marriage would eliminate the need for them to go through with it.” Louisa focused on drawing in each breath, willing the terrible pain to recede. Nothing stood in Benjamin’s way if he wanted to marry Lady Adele. He’d made no promises to Louisa.
“Yes. But Granger has refused. We were hoping Gibbon would withdraw his demand today, but that hasn’t happened. They meet at dawn.”
“Is Aberland acting as his second?”
Caroline scowled. “Apparently so. Men. Stubborn and filled with pride.”
“True.” Louisa swallowed against the lump in her throat. Her worst fear had come to pass—that a rogue like Benjamin would never truly change. She’d spent the past few years dealing with her mother’s reckless behavior and already grown weary of the pitying glances and the hesitation before invitations were extended. She had no intention of living like that because of her husband. Not that he’d offered for her. Now she’d never know if that had been his intent.
She might love Benjamin—the realization had her drawing a shaky breath—but she refused to spend the rest of her life worrying over what scandal might befall him. She needed to put aside her feelings for him and find someone whose behavior was impeccable.
“This is for the best, really,” she murmured, wishing she meant it.
Annabelle reached out to touch her arm. “How so? I think it’s horrible.”
“Not at all.” She lifted her chin, hoping the pain would fade with time. “Thank goodness this happened now before I became enamored with him.” Did her cousins believe the lie?
“Granger was quite angry by Gibbon’s demand from what Richard said,” Caroline offered. “I’m sure he’ll want to explain. Don’t give up on him, Louisa.”
She blinked rapidly. “I don’t want to hear explanations.” The situation made her worry that his reputation as a rogue was more than just a reputation—it was fact. Part of the present, not just the past. She couldn’t plan her future with a man she couldn’t trust. Not after all she’d been through with her mother. She needed time to think. “Please advise the Earl of Granger not to contact me or attend the Christmas Eve celebration. I have no wish to see him any time soon.”
She only wished she could convince her heart of that.
Chapter 11
Benjamin rose well before dawn after a sleepless night and quickly dressed without bothering to ring for his valet. He wanted this morning over so he could try to gather the threads of his life back together. Gibbon had not come to his senses, much to Benjamin’s dismay.
He’d been through each moment of the Delham’s house party and knew he hadn’t taken liberties Lady Adele in any manner. He’d danced with her and shared the carriage ride to church but otherwise hadn’t touched her.
Had something untoward happened during that brief ride for which she blamed him? He’d taken great care to remain pressed into the corner, unmoving during the trip. She hadn’t appeared upset when she alighted.
With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. There was nothing to be done but move forward and hope for a favorable outcome of the duel. Though he might escape with his life, his world was now in shambles. The charity planning would have to begin again. When word of the duel spread, along with the fact that Delham had withdrawn support, gathering funds would be much more difficult, perhaps even impossible.
And Louisa...
His entire being ached when he allowed himself to think of her. Everything he’d thought impossible, including a happy marriage filled with love, had seemed possible with her at his side.
He shook his head as he descended the stairs, a sick knot in the pit of his stomach. The message Aberland had delivered from Caroline made it clear that Louisa didn’t wish to see him again. He couldn’t blame her. Dueling was dangerous and illegal. Heaven forbid he or Gibbon actually killed the other, as the survivor would face murder charges. Assuming the viscount didn’t kill him, Benjamin’s reputation would be worse than before.
Viscount Stanich would no doubt do his best to comfort Louisa. They’d most likely have a June wedding. He rubbed his hand over the ache in his chest at the idea. Just when he’d thought the path for his future was clear, this happened, and all was lost.
He nodded at the footman as he stepped into the carriage, pleased he’d asked Aberland to meet him at Putney Heath with the pistols. Conversation was beyond him this morning. Sleet fell, lending an additional layer of misery to the day. It perfectly suited his mood.
After well over an hour, the driver stopped the carriage beside Aberland’s in a clearing. Benjamin’s thoughts were unable to settle on anything. Except Louisa. He closed his eyes. She was beyond his reach. He needed to release his affection for her somehow.
Yet he feared it was too late. He loved her with a depth he knew he’d never find again.
How ironic that Lady Adele matched the type of wife he’d thought perfect for his reformation before he’d met Louisa. But he had no desire to spend his life with her.
He stepped out of the carriage as Aberland did the same, a box containing a pair of pistols tucked under his arm.
“Morning,” Aberland said.
Benjamin appreciated that he hadn’t added “good” to the greeting. “Thank you for coming.”
“Couldn’t have you face this on your own. Hell of a way to spend Christmas Eve.” He patted Benjamin’s shoulder. “It’s been years since I’ve witnessed such excitement.”
“Liar.” Benjamin well knew Aberland’s life as a spy had held more close calls than most. He’d been shot and left for dead at one point, though he rarely talked about it.
“Come now. One must keep a sense of humor over these things.”
“Must one?”
His utter despair must’ve shown, for Aberland patted his shoulder again. “We will look for a silver lining in all this. Caroline has convinced me there’s one in every situation.”
“The weather is too miserable to find it, I’m afraid.” Benjamin sighed as Gibbon’s carriage came into view. “There goes my first hope.”
“That he’d fail to appear? Yes, that was probably too much to ask. He’s already proven himself a fool for not pressing his sister for an explanation.”
“Then let us be done with this.” Benjamin walked toward Gibbon’s carriage, annoyed when a long moment passed before the viscount and his brother bothered to alight.
When at last the carriage door opened, Gibbon’s grim expression suggested he remained determined to see this through. He glanced at the sky. Though dawn had surely arrived, it had done little to lighten the greyness. “We shall have to hope the pistols will fire in this wetness.”
A fool indeed, Benjamin thought. If he knew what was good for him, he’d wish both the firearms became wet. That would allow them to call the matter satisfied without the risk of physical harm.
“Did Lady Adele offer any details as to when I might have committed this offense?” he asked the viscount.
The man lifted his chin. “I have no need to question what she told me. She is my sister. Have you reconsidered offering for her hand?”
“Though I’m certain Lady Adele will make someone a fine wife, that man is not me.”
“Then let us proceed.” Gibbon glanced at his younger brother as if unsure what came next.
“Why don’t we examine the pistols in the shelter of my carriage to make certain they remain dry?” Aberland suggested, then with a wry glance at Benjamin, led the way.
Benjamin followed, and Aberland opened the wooden box inside the carriage. Benjamin selected one of the pistols, and Gibbon picked up the other, both careful to keep them out of the sleet.
“Shall we say twenty paces?” Aberland asked.
“Fifteen,” Gibbon countered. “The weather is difficult enough without standing so far apart.”
“Very well.” Benjamin made quick work out of loading his pistol, then held it under his coat to keep the flint dry. He watched as Gibbon loaded his, hesitati
ng over the procedure as if unfamiliar with the weapon.
At last, both men walked toward the center of the clearing with the seconds following behind. Gibbon’s jerky stride suggested nerves, but Benjamin felt dead inside. Still, he had to try one last time to stop this madness.
“We don’t have to do this,” Benjamin said quietly. “Surely we can call the matter settled. You have my word that I did not touch Lady Adele.”
Gibbon’s glare was answer enough.
Benjamin turned back-to-back with Gibbon. Aberland counted in a loud, clear voice, and Benjamin matched his stride to the counts, his mind blank.
“Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.”
Benjamin turned and lifted the pistol to see Gibbon doing the same. He had no intention of killing the man. He could only hope Gibbon had the foresight to feel the same way. With slow movements, he raised his weapon, heart thudding wildly as he prepared for the sound of Gibbon’s shot ripping the air.
Gibbon had difficulty holding the pistol steady as he took aim. Benjamin gritted his teeth, fearing the man would pull the trigger at the wrong moment and kill him after all.
Benjamin aimed his pistol to the right of Gibbon and squeezed off a shot. The sound caused the viscount to jerk in surprise. The flare of Gibbon’s gun firing held Benjamin’s gaze, and he braced for impact.
Louisa spent much of the day pretending to assist her mother with preparations for the Christmas Eve ball, but her joy for the holiday had ended with Caroline and Annabelle’s visit the previous day. She’d wanted to cancel the ball, but her mother refused, insisting their reputations would only suffer further if they did. “We must hold our heads high despite the terrible circumstances,” she’d told Louisa.
How could Louisa possibly think about anything when Benjamin might be injured at this very moment? Or worse—lost his life this day?
The thought made her shudder. She abandoned her attempt to adjust the greenery on the mantle in the drawing room. A sense of dread flooded her, making her feel weak. She couldn’t think, could hardly breathe. No matter how many times she tried to tell herself that she should make plans for a future without Benjamin, she had to know if he was well.