by Adele Clee
Ava had heard enough. She wanted this man out of her life for good. He was dangerous, a liar, a deceiver. And she could not risk him appearing again in the future, not when she had children.
“Then I shall make you an offer,” she suddenly said, knowing it was foolish, but she had to do something. “One I am sure will prove tempting. My friends are waiting outside to kill you, so I would think carefully before making a decision.”
Fear wiped the amused grin off his face. His frantic gaze shot to the window and he muttered a vile curse. “Let me hear your terms.”
It was too late to rescind now. She had to move forward with her plan.
Ava sucked in a breath. “I call you out, sir. I seek satisfaction for the deaths of my parents. I seek recompense for the vile way you treated me, for the torment you have caused my brother.”
“Are you challenging me to a duel?” he asked incredulously.
Ava raised her chin. “I am. There is a field to the north, a few minutes’ walk from here. Should you agree, I will meet you there in half an hour.”
Mr Fairfax jerked his head back. “You wish to duel in the dark?” he whispered.
“Bring a lantern. The winner will take possession of the licence to the Mines of Lavrion, will take ownership of the ruby.”
Ava had no desire to return to Greece. There was talk of the area being unstable due to a conflict with the Ottoman Empire. And her home was with Valentine now.
Valentine.
She dreaded telling him of her plan.
“You have them in your possession?” Mr Fairfax’s greedy eyes widened.
“I do.”
Mr Fairfax rubbed his chin while he contemplated the dilemma. “And Lord Valentine is waiting outside?”
Ava nodded. “Along with Mr Drake.”
A sinister grin darkened his features. “What is to stop me taking you hostage and planning my escape?”
Ava came to her feet. She gripped the table, made the action appear threatening rather than an aid to help her stand. “I am leaving. Make your decision.”
“How do I know Lord Valentine won’t shoot me before the duel?”
“I give you my word we will follow the code of honour.”
Ava turned to walk away, but Mr Fairfax jumped from his chair and grabbed her hand. “I accept the challenge,” he whispered, “though you will need to provide pistols.”
A rush of fear almost made her cast up her accounts. “Oh, I think I can manage that.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The bleak look in Ava’s eyes as she left the inn tore at Valentine’s heart. He straightened as he moved from his hiding place in the shadows, as he waited to pounce on Fairfax and drag him off into the woods behind the coaching inn.
Valentine raised his hand to signal Drake, who was waiting on the opposite side of the cobbled courtyard. Fairfax would chase Ava’s heels, desperate for more information about the licence.
But Ava did not walk to the carriage as planned. She came striding over to Valentine.
“There has been a change of plan.” Her bottom lip quivered as she spoke.
Valentine slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to calm the shaking that had taken command of her body.
“I understand,” he said, knowing he had asked too much. “You do not want the man’s death on your conscience.”
“It is not that.”
“What then? Did he provide evidence to support his claim? Were you mistaken when you suspected he had a hand in your parents’ deaths?”
Ever since Ava had learnt that Fairfax and Cassiel were the same man, she had feared the worst. Why else would Cassiel say that her parents were murdered?
“No.” Ava raised her chin and exhaled deeply. “Fairfax confessed. He caused the mine to collapse. From what I understand from his cryptic clues, he embezzled money. My father must have found the evidence in the accounts.”
Valentine pursed his lips. “I am sorry. It must have hurt to hear his admission of guilt.”
“Jonathan told my father of Mr Fairfax’s plan to ruin me, to force a wedding.” The sudden cold indifference in her tone unnerved him. “My father attacked him, and Fairfax swears he acted in self-defence.”
“And you believe that to be the case?”
With no witnesses to the crime, the blackguard could say anything.
Ava arched a brow. The forlorn expression he’d seen a minute earlier was replaced with a confidence, an arrogance he’d witnessed when first meeting her on the duelling field.
A crippling sense of trepidation held him by the throat.
“I don’t know what to believe,” she said. “But know that I love you more than life itself. I love you enough not to let you sully your hands on that scoundrel.”
Valentine’s heart swelled against his ribs. Despite all Fairfax had done, Ava’s only thoughts were for him.
“I do not trust him, Lucius. What if he appears at some point in the future, to hurt my family, to seek revenge?”
Confused as to what she wanted, Valentine said, “What are you proposing we do?”
Ava hesitated before cupping his cheek and kissing him once on the lips. “I have challenged Mr Fairfax to a duel. Set to take place in thirty minutes in the field a little farther along the road.” She pointed north. “The winner takes the licence and the ruby. Though I intend to put a lead ball between his brows.”
Shock rendered Valentine speechless.
The searing pain in his chest as his mind played out the scene caused one knee to buckle. Bile bubbled in his stomach. Panic choked his throat. His head spun until he struggled to see straight.
Sheer terror forced him to say, “How can an intelligent woman be so bloody stupid? Tell him you made a mistake. Tell him I’ll give him five thousand pounds to disappear for good. Tell him … just tell him something, damn it.”
Ava placed her hand on his chest though Valentine could not remain still. He swung around, punched the air, dragged his hand down his face and wished he could turn the clock back to the moment they first rattled into the courtyard of the White Hart Inn.
“No,” he said as he whirled back to face her. “Get into the carriage and wait for me there.”
“You are not my husband yet, Valentine.”
“And I doubt I shall be your husband at all if I permit such recklessness.”
A tense silence ensued, a silence permeated with mumbled curses.
“Fairfax took advantage of me,” she said, sounding just as determined as he. “Jonathan prevented him from stealing my virginity, but he would have used me given the chance. For that alone I deserve vengeance. And I refuse to let you pay the heavy price on my behalf.”
Images of her standing alone in a field, scared and vulnerable, flashed into his mind. Anger surfaced. He would be the one to put a lead ball through Fairfax’s cold heart.
“Then I will be your second,” Valentine insisted.
“You may name yourself my second, but you will follow the code of conduct.”
Drake strode over to join them, and Valentine was glad of the distraction.
“Am I to understand Fairfax wishes to remain in the inn?” Drake narrowed his gaze. “What is it?”
Valentine gave a mocking snort. “Ava challenged Fairfax to a duel, set to take place tonight. The one standing receives the licence and the ruby.”
Drake’s expression darkened. “I can only imagine the conversation when she told you.” He turned to Ava. “Valentine will never allow you to risk your life. If Juliet were standing here, I would bundle her into the carriage, tie the rogue to the axle and drag him fifty miles along the road.”
Ava arched a brow. “You do not respect the fact your wife has her own opinion?”
Devil take it, the lady was brave.
No one challenged Devlin Drake.
It took Drake a moment to answer. “Not if it means I might lose her.” He seemed to consider the comment. “But I would respect her wishes to a certain extent. I would
work to find a compromise.”
After a brief pause, she said, “I am prepared to make certain concessions.”
Thank the Lord.
“Then permit me to act on your behalf,” Valentine pleaded.
“No. I have the skill to shoot in the dark.”
The dark!
Bloody hell!
He had not even thought of that.
“We should discuss this somewhere else before Fairfax sees us,” Drake said.
“There is no need,” Ava replied. “I told him you were waiting outside to kill him. I told him that the duel was his best option if he hoped to gain possession of the mine.”
Another tense silence ensued.
Fairfax was no fool. He had a slim chance of escaping the duelling field alive. If he shot Ava, Valentine would kill him, regardless. Fairfax’s only option now was to run, to bide his time before returning with a fresh plan of attack.
Relief coursed through Valentine’s veins.
“I have a suggestion,” Valentine said. Fairfax would not head for London, so his only option was to venture south. “Let us wait across the road and see what the rogue does. If he heads north, we will follow him and assume he is heading for the duelling field.”
Drake arched a brow. “And if he heads south?”
“Then he’ll be unfortunate enough to meet well-dressed bandits on the road.” Valentine focused his gaze on Ava. “Are you in agreement?”
“I am,” she said without hesitation.
Having crossed the road to hide amidst the shrubbery, they stood and watched the door of the coaching inn. Long minutes passed. A carriage arrived to block their view of the courtyard. Consequently, they almost missed Fairfax sitting astride his horse. With his hat pulled low, he nudged the animal into a canter as he turned onto the road heading for the coast.
“The man is cunning enough to know he had no chance of winning on the field,” Valentine said, exhaling the tension he’d held since Ava mentioned the duel. He could handle whatever came next as long as she wasn’t staring down the barrel of a pistol.
“He has always been a coward,” Ava said as they moved out of the shadows and hurried across the road towards Valentine’s carriage.
They were about to enter the courtyard when a man on horseback charged past them as fast as windy flames devoured a hay barn.
Valentine cursed the fool.
“Heavens above!” Ava grabbed Valentine’s arm. “I may be mistaken, but that rider looked like Jonathan. Did you tell him we were here?”
Valentine had left a note with Honora when Ava returned home to change clothes and fetch her cloak. “I informed him of our intention, yes.”
Her eyes grew wide with panic. “Then we must go after him before he does something he may live to regret.”
Valentine seemed to spend every waking minute chasing Jonathan Kendall’s coattails. The man was unpredictable, acted without thought or logic. But there was no denying he cared for his sister, and so Valentine ushered them into the carriage and ordered Sprocket to give chase.
They held on to the leather straps as they bounced and swayed along the narrow lane. A thump on the roof above forced Valentine to yank down the window.
“Do you have the men in your sights?” he called up to Sprocket.
“They’re just a bit farther ahead, milord.”
The wind whipped Valentine’s face as he thrust his head fully out of the window. The glare from the carriage lamp made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front. A sudden biting chill on the back of his neck alerted him to the fact that Ava had lowered her window, too.
“I think I see them,” she called out amidst the violent rumbling of the wheels and the rush of wind whistling through the conveyance. “Jonathan is riding alongside Mr Fairfax.”
Valentine leant further out to gain a better view.
Two black shadows moved and swayed in the distance as their horses pounded the dirt. The animals galloped so closely together one mistake would see both men thrown from their horses. Valentine would not want to be the one riding close to the edge, for the road dropped away to the left, dropped down sharply into a ravine.
“What? No!” Ava cried. “They’re fighting. It is too dark to identify which one is Jonathan.”
Valentine agreed. The collars of both men’s coats touched their chins. Seated in the saddle, they were of a similar height and frame. He could do nothing but watch them push and kick and grab each other’s coat sleeves as they raced along at breakneck speed.
It crossed his mind to load his pistol, to aim and wait for a clear shot of Fairfax, but even he lacked the skill to fire accurately under such terrifying conditions.
With each rider trying to wrestle the other from his horse, it came as no surprise when the man on the right slipped from the saddle.
Ava gasped. “Jonathan!” she called despite not knowing if the rider hanging on by the reins—and with one leg still draped across the saddle—was her brother or Fairfax.
Just when Valentine thought he might predict the outcome of the battle, the rider seated upright took his gaze off the road to beat his opponent to the ground. Obsessed with victory, he failed to notice the low-hanging branch until it smacked his head. The force of the impact knocked him clean off the horse and sent him tumbling down into the ravine.
“Jonathan!” With her voice choked with emotion, Ava repeated her brother’s name numerous times. “Oh, please don’t let it be him.”
Sprocket brought the carriage to a grinding halt.
As soon as the wheels stopped turning, they were all out of the carriage and racing towards the scene. Both horses continued galloping along the lane. Not knowing who the rider was attempting to regain his seat on the saddle, they all peered down the dark ravine, looking for a body below.
Sprocket approached with a lantern held aloft.
“Come a bit closer to the edge,” Valentine said to the coachman. The bank leading down into the valley was not too steep to navigate. “Hold the lantern while I climb down.”
“Is that wise?” Ava appeared at his side and clutched his arm.
“How else will we know if he’s alive?”
If it was Jonathan, Valentine would do everything in his power to save him. If it was Fairfax, he would ensure the fellow never made it out of the ravine.
“Sprocket must have a rope under his seat,” Drake said.
“I don’t need a rope. Just keep the lantern high.” Without another word, Valentine stepped off the edge of the road onto the grassy verge that petered down into the valley. He slipped numerous times on dead bracken as he crabbed sideways down to where a man lay sprawled on his front.
Valentine grabbed the still man’s arm and turned him over, relieved to find the cold, lifeless eyes of Mr Fairfax staring back at him. Crouching beside the body, Valentine checked for a pulse.
“It’s Fairfax,” he shouted up to where Ava and Drake stood waiting with Sprocket. From what he could tell, the impact had snapped the rogue’s neck. “He’s dead.”
Valentine wasn’t sure if they heard him, but as he began his ascent back up the steep hill, he saw Ava fling her arms around a figure too small to be Devlin Drake.
As Valentine neared the top, Drake offered his hand and hauled Valentine to safety.
“I presume he died of his injuries,” Drake said, brushing dirt off Valentine’s coat. “Or did you have to help him along?”
“My hands are clean. But I would have made sure he didn’t live to cause my wife further distress.” Protecting Ava would be his life’s mission. Making her laugh, helping her to fulfil her dreams would be top of his agenda, too.
“Your wife?” Drake smirked. “Did I miss the ceremony?”
“Of course not. But I will marry her once I’ve pestered the archbishop for a licence.”
A surge of emotion forced him to swallow deeply. He glanced at Ava. Happiness radiated from her like a bright beacon. She turned to him and smiled, and he felt the power of it de
ep in his chest.
“And is she in agreement?” Drake asked. “Then again, I cannot imagine there is a woman in the world who wouldn’t want to marry you.”
The comment proved too much. Water welled in Valentine’s eyes. He tried to speak, but the lump in his throat prevented him from making a sound.
Drake gripped his shoulder. “That’s how you know she is the one for you, my friend. I am not afraid to admit that I cried when I realised the depth of my feelings for Juliet.”
Valentine coughed to clear his throat. “No doubt you’re eager to return home rather than watch me turn into a blubbering wreck.”
“On the contrary, this is one moment I don’t want to miss. Who would have thought Lucius Valentine would feel anything for a woman other than indifference?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The wedding took place five days later in the chapel on the grounds of Valentine’s country estate near Covehurst Bay. It was a quiet, informal affair, not what the ton would expect from a member of the aristocracy, but the only people who mattered were there.
Ava loved that Whitecliff House overlooked the sea. Inhaling the fresh, salty air brought back happy memories of her parents and their time in Greece. She had sensed Valentine’s reluctance to return, learnt from Honora that he had not been back since the night his father died. Even so, Valentine wished to concentrate on their future now and not wallow in past pain.
“Three weddings in the space of a month,” Lord Greystone said as they sat before the roaring fire in the drawing room, exhausted after a wedding breakfast that Mr Drake struggled to finish. “All we need now is for Dariell and Lockhart to marry.”
The Frenchman arched a brow as a mischievous glint flashed in his eyes. “Remember that Society must think Lockhart is already married.”
Thankfully, Jonathan had retired to his room, and so they could speak freely.
“The lady playing the role of his wife must be a skilled actress,” Ava said.
What if the woman despised Lockhart? How does one feign a look of love and intense longing? She glanced at Valentine and met his heated gaze. In a moment, she would make an excuse to leave the room knowing her husband would follow.
