by Ava Stone
“If he makes it that far,” Truscott said. “I’d lay even odds Prestwood kills the man before he ever says ‘I do’. In fact, he should probably make sure his will is in order, just to be on the safe side.”
“It won’t even take any time at all,” the second fellow added. “He’ll leave everything to his bastard sister anyway, even your brother could draw it up for him with very little effort.”
The obnoxious trio laughed again. Weren’t they the three most charming arses in all of Britain? Was there anyone they didn’t disparage?
“Wonder if I shouldn’t try to steal the Post chit away from Kilworth,” Hessenford said. “Wouldn’t mind having her legs wrapped around me even if Henry Baxter did get there first.”
“Well,” Truscott began, but Thad wasn’t about to let any of them say another word.
He strode right into the parlor and surveyed the trio – Charles Truscott, the ne’er-do-well youngest son of Lord Holsworthy; Viscount Hessenford, a debauched rake along the same lines as Henry had been; and John Pearce, the nephew and heir presumptive of the Marquess of Calverleigh – each of them lounged in chairs, drinking some of St. Austell’s brandy, by the looks of their glasses.
“Evening,” Thad said, sounding much more amiable than he felt at the moment.
Only Pearce had the decency to look slightly uncomfortable by Thad’s sudden appearance. “Kilworth,” he muttered in greeting.
“I couldn’t quite help but overhear you mentioning Lady Hope just now.”
Hessenford smirked. “Listening at doorways these days? I wouldn’t have thought you were the sort.”
“Happenstance, I assure you.” Thad clasped his hands behind his back, which kept him from balling his hand into a fist. Pummeling the man in Lady St. Austell’s parlor would not bode well for anyone, most especially Hope.
“If you say so.” The viscount picked at an invisible piece of lint on his jacket, unaware or unconcerned about the fury coursing through Thad. Condescending jackass.
“Tell me, do I strike you as the sort who would defend a lady on a field of honor, Hessenford? Because that is where we’re headed.”
That got the viscount’s attention and he glanced back up at Thad. “I hardly think a dawn appointment over a bit o’ muslin is necessary, old man.”
A bit o’ muslin? Thad would only be too glad to put a ball in Hessenford’s black heart. “Afraid I must disagree with you,” he said evenly. “Lady Hope’s honor has been besmirched and I cannot let that stand.” He glanced from Truscott to Pearce. “I assume one of you will serve as his second.”
Pearce looked as though he might be ill.
“If you insist on this,” Truscott grumbled, “I suppose it would be me.”
“Perfect.” Thad nodded in the man’s direction. “I’m naming Robert Cole as mine. I’m certain you can find him at Whites this evening to work out the details. See you in the morning.”
Chapter 12
Heavens! What was that?
Something awful must be going on below. Quent had let out a bark of anger, the likes of which Hope had never heard before. At least, she assumed it was Quent. Her brother was very rarely angry about anything, but it did sound like him.
Hope scrambled from her bed and opened her door. She found Grace in the corridor too as though her slumber had also been broken by the sound below. “What was that?” her sister whispered.
Hope shrugged as she tightened her wrap about her waist, then she and her sister padded down the steps and started towards the white parlor.
“I knew it. I knew it when I saw him tonight this wouldn’t end well. I just don’t understand what she could possibly have done in so short a time that would result in…this!” Quent’s furious voice echoed down the hall.
Hope and Grace stopped where they stood and exchanged a glance with each other. What in the world had happened?
“Alcott didn’t say,” came Lord Wolverly’s voice. “Honestly, he probably doesn’t know. It’s not as though fellows spill their souls to him about these sorts of things. They just need his services.”
Doctor Alcott? Lord Wolverly’s brother-in-law?
“Well what does he know?” Quent boomed.
“Just what I’ve told you. Lord Robert sought him out and asked him to be present in the morning should either Kilworth or Hessenford be injured…”
Should Kilworth be injured? Hope gasped as her hand fluttered to her chest. Why in the world would Lord Kilworth be injured? Grace frowned at her, but Hope didn’t know anything more than her sister did.
“But it sounds like the whole thing has something to do with Hope’s honor. I just thought you should be aware.”
It had to do with her honor? Hope’s knees nearly buckled beneath her. What in the world had happened?
And then her brother stood in the doorway of the parlor, his face red and his hazel eyes flashing with anger. “Eavesdropping now, are you?”
Hope shook her head.
“Hardly,” Grace said waspishly. “Who would need to? You could wake the dead with your bellowing.”
Quent sucked in a breath and was about to lose his temper which wouldn’t help anything. “Why might Lord Kilworth be injured?” Hope asked quickly.
Her brother focused his attention on her. “I’d like to ask you the same thing. What did you do that would inspire the man to challenge Hessenford in order to defend you?”
A duel? Of all the stupid, ridiculous, foolish, dangerous… Hope thought she might be ill, but she managed to shake her head. “On my word, I’ve done nothing, Quent.” She barely even knew Lord Hessenford. In fact, she wasn’t certain if she’d even spoken with the viscount all Season. Oh, dear heavens, what if something happened to Lord Kilworth? What if he was injured? What if…What if he was killed? A chill washed over her. After Henry, she couldn’t…
“Kilworth challenged Hessenford?” Grace asked. “I don’t see how that could have anything to do with Hope.”
Quent glared at their sister. “I didn’t ask you.”
But Grace shook her head most stubbornly. “She was in the ballroom all evening at the St. Austells’, as were we all. There’s nothing she could have done, Quentin.”
“Yes, well, none of it is any of your concern,” Quent clipped out, then gestured to their general state. “You’re hardly dressed to entertain guests. Go back to bed, both of you.”
He couldn’t honestly think she could just go back to bed! What if something happened to Lord Kilworth? What if when she awoke he’d been killed? She’d already lost one man she loved and…She couldn’t love Lord Kilworth, could she? She liked him was all. She hadn’t at first, but she did now. She liked his kisses, she liked how she felt in his arms, she even liked bantering with him, not that she’d ever tell him that. But she liked him a great deal, and if he somehow died trying to defend her honor… “Quent, you can’t let him do this,” she whispered. “Can’t you stop it? Can’t you do something?”
Her brother heaved a sigh and shook his head. “There’s not a thing I can do about it, love. He could come to his senses by morning and call the whole thing off, I suppose. But if either of those men are injured or killed and it has something to do with you, I don’t know how you’ll ever survive it. After last year…”
“Can’t you talk to him?” She didn’t care one whit about whether or not she survived the scandal of it. Her future wasn’t one she could control anyway, but if something should happen to Lord Kilworth, she didn’t think she could survive that. “Make him see reason? Quent, can’t—”
“Do you care about the man?” Quent asked, his eyes softening just a bit.
“He’s quite wonderful,” she admitted. Oh, heavens, panic seized her heart again! What if something happened to him? “Please, can’t you talk to him?”
Her brother heaved a sigh. “I’ll head to Green Park beforehand and see if I can get him to change his mind, but there’re no guarantees, love.”
Hope sagged slightly from relief. “Thank you
for trying.”
Then she turned slowly and started back for the stairs with her sister beside her. Together they climbed the steps and once they’d reached the top, Grace whispered, “You really didn’t do anything, did you?”
Hope shook her head. “You’re the one who said I was docile this Season.” But perhaps it was time to stop being docile. What if Quent wasn’t able to get Lord Kilworth to see reason? What if he stubbornly dueled Lord Hessenford and ended up getting himself killed? She couldn’t let that happen. Being docile was for the birds. “But now you have to help me sneak out.”
Grace looked at her as though she’d lost her mind, and perhaps she had. “I beg your pardon?”
“He might not listen to Quent,” she stressed, “but he’ll listen to me. If I can just see him…”
“You’re bound for Bedlam, do you know that?”
“Wouldn’t you risk everything to save Mr. Lacy?”
Grace frowned slightly at that and shrugged. “Mama will have both of our heads if she finds out. You’ll be ruined.”
But with Grace helping her, no one would ever find out. There was no one she trusted as well as she did Grace, her most clever sister and the most ardent secret keeper in the family. “We’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen then.”
Hope needed to change clothes, sneak down the back steps to the kitchen and escape into the mews. The most dangerous part would be making her way from South Audley Street to Upper Brook Street this time of night by herself, but as long as she was careful, she could manage to go unseen. And once at Baxter House, she’d have to talk some sense into Lord Kilworth. She prayed he’d listen.
“You’re a damned fool,” Robert said, dropping onto the settee across from Thad’s chair.
“Yes, you’ve said that at least a dozen times this evening.” Even so, his friend had done his duty in establishing a set of rules of conduct for his dawn appointment with Hessenford.
“Well, it’s a new day, so my tally can start over.” Robert scrubbed a hand down his face.
It was technically a new day, but Thad wouldn’t get any sleep until after he’d met the degenerate viscount at Green Park. Much better just to stay up than risk being groggy from disturbed sleep. “He’s a rotten shot, isn’t he?”
He thought, after all, he’d remembered hearing that some time ago. Something about missing his target during an entire hunting party, something like that.
“Ahem!” His butler Morris cleared his throat. “There is a, um, young lady, my lord. I—” he stammered, looking more than uncomfortable. “Well, she’s asking for you.”
“You can’t be serious,” Robert grumbled.
Thad pushed out of his seat and frowned at his friend. A young lady? What in the world? He brushed past his butler into the corridor and there in the foyer, all dressed in black, was Lady Hope. She looked like she was in mourning.
“What in God’s name?” he asked. Honestly, had she lost her mind? The last place in the world she should be at this hour was at his home. Didn’t she have any sort of care for her reputation?
“Please don’t do this, my lord,” she said, her voice catching slightly in her throat.
Thad closed the distance between them, and against his better judgment, he pulled her into his arms. “Hope,” he breathed out. “What are you doing here?” He was, after all, trying to protect her good name and she was tossing it aside just as quickly with both hands.
She tilted her head back to better see him. “Tell me you won’t do this, please tell me you won’t.”
He released a breath. She knew. Somehow she’d found out about the duel, that much was obvious. He had no idea how she could have found out, but the how didn’t matter at the moment. “If you’re worried for my safety, there’s no reason,” he tried to assure her. And there wasn’t any reason. He was a decent shot. He always had been. Much better than Hessenford, in any event.
Tears pooled in her eyes, and the sight tugged at his heart. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you,” she whispered. “I can’t lose you too. Please, my lord.”
And the urge to console her and soothe her washed over him, and before he knew it, he’d cupped her face and kissed her. She pressed up on her toes as though to get closer to him which drove him half-mad with want. Thad pulled her closer to him and deepened their kiss. She tasted of sweetness and innocence and everything Thad ever wanted in life.
She clung to his jacket, pulling him closer, and sighed against his lips. He delved inside the haven of her mouth and tangled his tongue with hers. Dear God, she’d be the death of him. Holding her, kissing her, feeling her curves pressed against him…The last thing Thad wanted was to ever lose her.
He wanted to feel her skin against his, he wanted to kiss and taste every inch of her, and he wanted her in his bed now and for always. He pressed her against the door and his hands dropped to her waist. She kissed him back with fervor, and a groan escaped him. If he could just get—
“We, uh, should probably be getting to the field,” Robert said from somewhere behind them.
And Thad winced as he lifted his head. Damn it all! Why did Robert have to come upon them now? Hope blinked up at him in surprise.
“Give me a moment, Rob.” He blew out a breath.
Then he waited until he heard his friend’s footsteps retreat before he took Hope’s hand and tugged her down the corridor to his study. He’d been a damned fool to keep her in the foyer where anyone could stumble upon them.
Once they crossed the threshold, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Then he made his way to his parlor to find his friend frowning at him as though he was the worst sort of villain. “Have you lost your mind? Has she?”
It was quite possible they both had lost their minds, not that Thad was about to admit as much to Robert Cole. “Pretend you never saw her here, all right?”
Robert snorted. “I’m not your problem, Thad. What are the odds no one else saw her?”
It was nearly dawn. Someone could have seen her as they‘d come home from whatever event they’d attended that night. Robert was right. That was a problem. “She came to talk me out of the duel.”
“Well, in that case, I’m sure no one will care then about the propriety of her showing up on your doorstep in the middle of the night.” His friend shook his head. “You’d best not put a ball in Hessenford’s heart and exile yourself. She’ll be well and thoroughly ruined then.”
She was well and thoroughly ruined now, but…Well, she wouldn’t be for long. “I’ll meet you at Green Park in less than an hour.”
“Does she even have an honor to defend?” Robert asked as he started for the threshold.
“Ask that again and you’ll find yourself on the other end of my pistol next.”
His friend sighed. “Just think about what you’re doing, Thad. At one time you were the smartest friend I had.”
He was still smart, he’d just lost his heart to a less-than-docile girl and she brought out a recklessness in him. Someday Robert would understand. Perhaps. There wasn’t, after all, another girl in the whole world like Hope Post, even if there were two girls who looked just like her. “I’ll see you in less than an hour,” he said again. Then Thad left the parlor and started for his study once more.
There was really only one thing he could do, and while he’d initially rejected the idea, he didn’t have a choice any longer. Not only was it the best course of action to take, the whole thing didn’t frighten him as much as he would have thought. In fact, he rather thought he’d enjoy it.
Hope was trembling as she paced the earl’s study, stopping at his mahogany desk as the last few minutes washed over her. Heavens! She hadn’t even considered that Lord Kilworth might have a visitor at this hour. Now that she thought about it, the earl could have already been in bed when she’d arrived on his doorstep. But he hadn’t been in bed. He’d been wide awake and the way he’d kissed her…Well, she was likely to faint j
ust thinking about it.
“Hope,” Lord Kilworth said from the threshold, and she spun around to face him.
His dark eyes were focused on her and her breath caught in her throat. No man had ever looked at her that way, not even Henry.
“You do realize it was reckless to come here?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
“I had to see you.” She grasped onto the back of his desk to keep herself upright. “I had to talk to you. You can’t do this, my lord. Please tell me you’ll cancel this nonsense.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “It’s not nonsense, Hope, and you shouldn’t even know anything about it.”
But she did know about it. And he had to see reason. “My lord—”
“Thaddeus,” he corrected. “From now on, anyway.”
“Thaddeus?” She tested his name on her tongue and a thrill raced through her.
“Or Thad,” he said, and closed the distance between them. He took her waist in both of his hands and pulled her against him.
Heavens, he was strong. His chest was hard as a marble against her breasts. Hope swallowed nervously “Thad,” she whispered, staring up into his eyes.
He smiled. “It’s too dangerous for anyone to see you leave here, Hope. So wait for me here until I’m finished with Hessenford and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He was mad. She couldn’t stay here. For one thing, Grace would be beside herself with worry, waiting for Hope to come home. And for another, she hadn’t come here to wait for him. She’d come to talk sense into him. “Thad, you can’t meet Hessenford. You can’t. If something happened to you—”
“And when I come back,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken at all, “we’ll send for your family and a vicar or rector, whoever’s available and be married in my front parlor.”
She could not have heard him correctly. Hope blinked up at him. “Be married?”
