‘He was up at dawn, sir, seconded by that reprobate Bleathsby, cursing you to damnation when he realised you weren’t going to arrive, saying you had brought dishonour on the family. It’s a wonder the servants didn’t wake. I offered to stand in for you as your second, but Lord Sinclair wouldn’t hear of it. He was demanding blood.’
Guy clapped his man on the back, touched by his loyalty. ‘He won’t be happy until he’s ripped this family apart,’ he said, just as he heard Sinclair’s unmistakable drawl from the main drawing room behind him.
‘Is that you, old chap? I do hope you’re ready for our little tête-à-tête.’
‘Clearly he had better things to be doing at dawn, if that wench he brought back is anything to go by,’ his friend Earl Bleathsby, as notorious a wastrel as Sinclair himself, sniggered. Suppressing his anger at the slight to Juliana, Guy entered the drawing room where the two men lounged, Bleathsby looking the worse for wear but Sinclair sharp and simmering with anger. Guy sighed.
‘You cannot seriously mean to do this, Sinclair? It would kill our mother, tarnish our family name and likely end up with us both dead. I won’t do it, honour be damned. I don’t give a fig for what anyone else thinks.’ Even as he said it, he knew he meant it. What did he care if the rest of the gentry shunned him for a coward? But it would make it even harder to keep Sinclair in line. But to his surprise his brother was nodding.
‘I’ve been thinking, brother,’ he spat the last word, ‘and I may have been rash about terms. So I propose a duel to first blood, instead. If I win, I get Bradcote.’
‘And if I win?’ Guy wasn’t surprised at his brother’s demands. He had long wanted the house, furious that he hadn’t inherited everything.
Sinclair shrugged as if that hadn’t even occurred to him. ‘What are your terms?’
‘You leave here,’ Guy said slowly, ‘and you don’t return. I want no further association with you. If you’re determined to drag yourself into the gutter, Sinclair, I won’t let you take the rest of the family down with you.’
Sinclair narrowed his eyes. ‘Very well. I’ll meet you on the lawn at noon, which gives you twenty minutes or so. Back out again, brother, and I’ll throttle you with my bare hands, and this time you won’t get the better of me.’
Guy stalked from the room, James close behind him.
‘You can’t really mean to give him Bradcote?’ his valet asked in horror as he fetched Guy a fresh shirt.
‘If I refuse the challenge again, he’ll raise hell, and there needs to be an end to it. Besides,’ he said grimly, ‘I don’t intend to lose. Fetch my pistol from the table, James.’
As his valet turned to do so, Guy laid a hand on his arm. ‘In the drawer underneath there’s a sum of money; a few hundred pounds. If I should come out of this indisposed, I want you to give it to the young lady I came in with, she’s upstairs in my rooms. Then take the curricle and drive her wherever she wants to go. Get her away from Sinclair, understand?’
James nodded. He could be trusted, Guy knew. Which was more than he could say for his cursed brother, he thought with foreboding.
Unaware of Guy’s plans and becoming more and more agitated as he failed to return, Juliana sat and waited, almost unable to sit still. The minutes went by agonisingly slowly until she could hardly bear it. She had to know what was happening, was full of fear for Guy. After just one night, she felt somehow that his fate must affect hers. She came down into the hall to see the front door open and the butler wringing his hands. Juliana hurried up to him.
‘Lord Guy?’ she asked, and the man nodded out the door.
‘On the lawn. Talk them out of this folly, if you can.’
Juliana rushed out, seeing four men standing at the other side of the lawn in two pairs, facing each other. Guy had his back to her. His valet was taking his coat as another man took Sinclair’s. Juliana stopped, unsure what to do. If she distracted Guy now, would his brother shoot him? Would he be angry if she interfered? But she couldn’t stand idly by. She made towards the men again, just as the valet stepped away and shouted ‘Draw!’ Juliana screamed at the sound of pistol shots and broke into a run.
Sinclair had dropped to the ground, clutching at his hand where Guy had shot him. Not fast enough for his brother, his own shot had gone wide. Guy stepped towards his brother in concern, to see Sinclair look past him and smile slyly through his pain.
‘Looks like your woman’s come to save you—how sweet.’
As Guy turned to see Juliana running up behind him, he saw Sinclair move out of the corner of his eye, and heard Juliana shriek ‘Look out!’ Spinning round just in the nick of time, the bullet passed close enough to his head that he felt the motion of it. He stared in abject horror at his brother, who had turned to his friend, growling ‘Your pistol, Bleathsby!’ James had started towards Sinclair, but then Bleathsby himself rushed forward and wrestled Sinclair to the ground.
‘Not done,’ he panted as he held Sinclair by the arms, ‘not the done thing at all, old chap.’ He looked at his friend with contempt.
Juliana reached Guy and flung herself into his arms. She clutched at him as if frightened he would disappear, then glared at Sinclair, who was getting to his feet, his hand bleeding profusely. The injured man turned to his brother with what she was shocked to see looked like tears in his eyes.
‘I can’t pay them,’ he moaned as if tortured, ‘I’m going to lose the house in Bath, everything. I’m into thousands.’
A flicker of sympathy showed in Guy’s eyes, but he looked away from Sinclair and addressed the other two men. ‘Get him inside and get that hand attended to; send a groom for the doctor. Don’t let him out of your sight. You’ll have to go abroad,’ he added, finally addressing Sinclair. ‘It’s your only option. You’re lucky I don’t have you arrested for attempted murder. Come back, Sinclair, or let me hear of you causing any more trouble, and I will do. Take this as a lesson.’
Sinclair, so full of menace just a few moments before, now hung his head in shame, looking defeated. He allowed the others to lead him off, while Guy watched him, hoping that despite everything, this morning’s events might be a turning point in his brother’s life; still, he wouldn’t hold his breath. Guy turned to Juliana.
‘What will you do? Will he go?’ she said.
‘He will have to, and no doubt want to, now he’s disgraced himself. I’ll have to pick up the pieces and settle as much of his debts as I can. I’ll be lucky if it doesn’t ruin me.’
‘At least you’re both alive,’ Juliana pointed out, looking up at him with a face full of emotion. The gut-twisting fear she had felt when Sinclair had shot at him had convinced her she didn’t want to leave this man. Guy stared down at her, not knowing how to put his own feelings into words.
‘I had some money set aside to give you,’ he began, then stopped as she stepped back, her face clouded. ‘No, Juliana, I mean for if anything had happened to me. I had to know you would be safe. But now, well, I want you to stay here. With me.’
Juliana looked at him with wide eyes, her mouth trembling. She wanted to say yes, but what would that mean? Staying here as his mistress, dependant only on his goodwill? She started to shake her head, when Guy lifted her chin towards his, bending and brushing her lips with his own. Just at that slight touch, she felt her insides melt. Even so, she went to protest, but he silenced her with another kiss, and then with pure shock.
‘I mean as my wife.’
Juliana stared at him. He couldn’t be serious.
‘But you’re a lord. I’m a... Think of the scandal.’
Guy laughed. ‘After the night and morning we’ve had, I think we can handle a bit of gossip, don’t you? I’m not letting you go back, Juliana. I want you to be mine.’ He crushed her to him, his hands roaming over her back and buttocks, and she could feel his need for her through his breeches. Her body tightened in response. She couldn’t deny the effect he had on her, but lust was no reason for marriage. Only the look in his eyes as he stared at her, anxiously awaiting an answer, held more than just lust.
‘I don’t know what to say.’
He kissed her again, harder. ‘Say yes, Juliana, say yes.’
She buried her face in his neck, overwhelmed, but knowing her answer was inevitable. ‘Yes.’
He picked her up then, ignoring her squealed protests as he lifted her off her feet, and carried her towards the house. Whatever the future held in store for them both, they would face it together.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460320761
Copyright © 2013 by Kelly Lawrence
THE VIRGIN COURTESAN
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THE VIRGIN COURTESAN Page 5
