From beyond the drawing room, a lady cleared her throat.
“Mama waits in the hall.” Amanda touched his mouth with a finger, and he caught it between his teeth in a playful nip. When he winked, she clucked her tongue, retreated a step, and settled her skirts. “First, you must purchase one of my hand-knitted scarves, in support of the Navy Widows Benevolence Fund, and you must encourage your shipmates to do the same. And although I have never seen you at the Promenade, I would have you escort me, this afternoon, with my cousin Helen as chaperone.”
“My Amanda, I am most definitely at your service.”
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A fortnight had passed, and Amanda fidgeted as she waited beneath the signature oak in Hyde Park, which had become her rendezvous point with Mark, whereupon he never failed to escort her during what she had once considered the morose spectacle known as the Promenade. In fact, their strolls amid society had charged the fore as her most cherished pastime, second only to the waltz, when he held her in his arms and whispered naughty thoughts in her ear. Just thinking of it gave her delicious shivers.
“Oh, where could he be?” With nervous anticipation, she perched on her toes, glanced from side to side, and craned her neck.
Yes, at last, it seemed she had found her knight in shining armor. Not once, in all their assignations, and of that there had been many, had Mark requested an introduction to Papa or suggested she recommend her beau for career advancement. Instead, they shared like-minded hopes for their future, based on identical priorities of family and service. And to his credit, her lieutenant encouraged her charitable work.
“Will you please calm yourself?” Helen chortled. “He will be here, but we are early.”
“I know, but I long to see him.” And then she made a quick check of her appearance.
The navy pelisse, á la militaire, she had designed expressly for her lieutenant’s delectation. Composed of rich blue velvet, the garment boasted an arched collar trimmed in Spanish braiding, and three rows of white silk frogs decorated the bodice, which she selected to reflect the piping of Mark’s uniform lapels. A brooch and clasps of mother-of-pearl set in old gold fastened the coat at her throat and waist, with a companion bonnet atop her head, and buff kid half boots, with matching gloves, completing the ensemble.
“But you danced three times at the Harris ball, just last night, which makes you the latest on-dit.” Helen snickered and rocked on her heels. “Everyone is talking, and even your father took note.”
“I care not, as I should withhold my attentions exclusive to Mark, had I a choice in the matter.” Without thought, she traced the inner side of her wrist and revisited sweet memories of their tryst in the garden at Harris House, when Mark had licked and suckled the sensitive flesh at the base of her hand. To her dismay and disappointment, he had done nothing else. “And regardless of the tenets governing our set, I will not deny what I feel.”
“And what do you feel, Lady Amanda?” inquired Mark in a purring tone that bespoke a wealth of meaning she comprehended too well.
“Lieutenant Douglas.” Bracing for the sensuous onslaught of her faculties, which always accompanied their initial greetings, she rotated and faced the man of her dreams. Conscious of the multitude stares in their direction she mustered passable aplomb. “What a nice surprise. And how are you this fine day?”
“Indeed, fortune smiles upon me, as I enjoy uncanny good luck.” Bedecked in his now familiar blue frock, with a high collar and buttoned cuffs, white pantaloons and stock, polished Hessians, sword, and a cocked hat positioned athwartships he arched a brow. “And, as of this moment, I have never been better.”
“Oh, Mark--”
“Ahem.” Helen elbowed him in the ribs. “Perhaps you two should start walking, as gout plagues my big toe, and I shall tarry to maintain pace.”
“Of course, fair Helen.” They shared a conspiratorial glance, as the spinster had pled the same excuse to justify the additional distance she allowed, which stretched the limits of respectability, but Amanda would not complain. Arm in arm, Mark led her into the rotation. “How very nautical you look, Lady Amanda.”
“Do you like it?” She smiled and then whispered, “I wore it just for you.”
“I shall endeavor not to squander the honor.” His chest expanded, as he inhaled, and his muscles tensed beneath her grip when she squeezed him. “And you are quite stunning, if I may be so bold, but you merely put a frame on a masterpiece, my Amanda.”
“I do so love it when you call me that.” She shuddered and dipped her chin to various notables. “And I am loathe to press your suit, but do you not think it overdue to speak with my father? Should I make the introductions tonight, at the Saumarez’s?”
“Are you not the officious little thing?” Amanda’s heart sank, even as her beau chuckled and tapped the tip of her nose. “And that is not necessary, because I have already secured your father’s permission to pay court.”
“What--when?” She stumbled and would have fallen, had he not firmly anchored her at his side. “Why did you not tell me? And when were you planning to impart that important bit of information?”
“Easy, my dear.” He tipped his hat to Lady Berkley. “We do not want to feed the gossipmongers.”
“My dear Lieutenant Douglas, if you do not enlighten me, I shall scream and land us on the front page of the scandal sheets.” She yanked hard on his elbow. “The details--now.”
“Ah, you employ that governessy tone--what it does for me, my Amanda.” He burst into laughter and then covered her hand with his. “My impatient lady, I met your father in the card room, after dinner at the Northcote’s, where you executed that adorable if not so efficacious flanking maneuver with Helen, and secured his blessing, which is why I called on you, two days afterward.”
“I know not of any such maneuver.” She lied and averted her gaze, as it unnerved her that Mark read her with unerring accuracy. “I thought you might find Helen’s amity a vast deal entertaining.”
“Oh, I did and still do, but she is not half so fascinating as my Amanda.” He bent his head. “And, please, do not bite your lip, as it makes you altogether irresistible.”
“Mark, you must not tease me.” And then she disobeyed his request before she realized it. “I do so long to kiss you. How I enjoyed our tour of the garden, last night.”
“So did I, sweetheart.” She thrilled at his declared term of endearment, and when he pinned her with his heated stare, she almost swooned. “But you are temptation personified, lady mine. And I would not compromise you until the banns have been read and the vows spoken.”
“What?” Amanda came to an abrupt halt. “Is it too much to hope? Do you intend to--”
“Yes,” her maddeningly proper lieutenant replied. “We are on the same page, darling.”
“Well you are an odd fellow.” And Amanda was overjoyed. “When were you going to apprise me of your objective?”
“At the appropriate time, as I would not make haste and frighten you.” He furrowed his brow. “In light of our brief acquaintance, it seemed a wise tack.”
“Fie on you, sir, as I do not frighten so easily.” She shook with uncontrollable excitement. “But how long have you known?”
“I would wager from the moment I saw you.” In an affectation of unimaginable tenderness, he massaged her gloved knuckles with his thumb, as was his way. “You struck a vicious blow from which I may never recover.”
“Then more’s the pity, for I share your devotion and your affliction.” Yet the nagging doubts born of years of abuse by unscrupulous suitors resurfaced. “Can you be certain, given our whirlwind courtship? And I would have the truth.”
“Of course, and I know nothing but the truth.” He steered her near a large hedge, which provided a modicum of privacy. “My dear, I am a Douglas, and once we fix our minds, we shall not be deterred. I would do well to warn you, that if you have any reservations, you should proclaim them, now. I shall be disappointed, and I may not be kind, but I will not be angr
y with you. You have my word, as a gentleman, I would abide your preference.”
“How could you think me so fickle?” Clasping her hands in his, Mark brought her to face him, and she retreated a fraction to gain a better view, as the crown of her head barely reached his chin. Silly giant. “And I should warn you, that if you renege on your promise, you would do well to remain at sea until the end of your days.”
In that instant, her lieutenant looked her in the eyes, and then studied her mouth, before again meeting her stare. And though her coat kept her quite warm, she shivered.
Mark shuffled his feet. “Amanda, I may have to break my oath and claim that kiss, tonight.”
“How I wish you would.” She licked her lips. “As I ache for you.”
“Good God, woman, you make me tremble.” He trailed his finger along the curve of her cheek. “I should very much--”
“Well, well, what have we here?” Samuel Clarendon sneered. “The common sailor and rank climber. You should not waste your time, Douglas, as Lady Amanda does not oblige, though she does favor the uniform.”
“I beg your pardon?” Amanda flinched at the slur.
A chorus of gasps and whispers, which reached a fevered crescendo, given their location in the park, composed a foreboding audial embroidery. And the audience grew as word spread of the slight.
With indefatigable equanimity, which she found indefatigably exasperating, Mark set her at arm’s length and bared his teeth. “You will apologize, sir.”
“For what?” Clarendon strutted as a peacock, and Amanda wanted to punch him in the nose. “The lady manipulates us as marionettes on her personal stage, even as she refuses to accommodate us, perhaps because she fears such cooperation might diminish her appeal. But you may play her fool, if you so choose, yet I shall call you on it.”
All of a sudden, the crowd parted to permit her father, along with the dodgy-toed Helen, entry to the fray. “What is the meaning of this, Clarendon?”
“I have no quarrel with you, Hiram.” The bastard smirked. “At issue is--”
“How dare you address me so informally, as you are neither my equal nor my better?” Amanda’s father drew himself up with noble hauteur, and she winced. “I demand satisfaction.”
“First you must get in line, Admiral.” With his glove, Mark slapped Clarendon across the cheek. “In the name of Lady Amanda Gascoigne-Lake, I challenge you, sir.”
Amanda opened her mouth and then closed it. Despite the libel of his character, her magnificent lieutenant took offense not for himself but for her. How glorious was her knight in shining armor? And then the ramifications of Mark’s provocation dawned, and she emitted a plaintive cry.
“What?” Clarendon blinked and sputtered.
“You heard me.” Stretched to his full height, Mark towered over the blackguard. “Make amends for your affront, retract your aspersions against Lady Amanda’s character, or suffer the consequences.”
“Mark--no.” She stepped forward.
“Quiet, Amanda.” Her father yanked her to his side. “Let Douglas handle it.”
“Papa, please, do not let him do this.” She scanned the immediate area, searching for someone to stop the insanity. Her gallant hero simply could not enact a duel, as she could not marry a corpse, and the mere thought sounded a carillon of gloom. In a flash, an image of herself, garbed in the somber black togs of full mourning, portended doom, and she teetered on the brink of disaster.
“If I slighted anyone, Douglas, it was you.” Clarendon spat on the ground at Mark’s feet. “What right have you to reparation, when I speak no falseness.”
“You have no honor, sir, as you operate under the mistaken presumption that disparagement of my reputation precludes defamation of Lady Amanda.” Mark rested hands on hips. “Choose your weapon, and name your second. I will see you at sunrise, on Paddington Green. Be prompt, as you do not want me to come after you.”
Amanda shrieked in horror and fainted.
CHAPTER THREE
A nebulous blanket of London fog cast a morbid pall over Paddington Green, while birds chirped a cheery singsong, as a thread of shimmering gold heralded a new day. Mark only hoped it was not his last, as he had plans to make with a certain raven-haired beauty. After a quick assessment of his formal dress uniform, he rolled his shoulders and sighed.
“So you intend to go through with it, Douglas?” Captain Horatio Nelson, Mark’s second, shifted his weight and sniffed. “I met your lady last night, at the Saumarez’s gala. She is quite handsome.”
“Indeed, she is altogether stunning, and I will restore her honor or die trying.” Mark frowned when he spied the coach bearing the Marquess de Gray’s coat of arms, amid the small crowd that had gathered to observe the gentlemen’s spectacle. How had he known his bride-to-be would not abide his request to forgo the duel? “Even if she is a tad willful.”
“What woman is not? And I do not always approve of such contests, but I understand your position, and the blackguard certainly deserves it.” Nelson dipped his chin, as a captain of the Royal Marines situated a table and then displayed a matched pair of flintlock pistols. “It appears your lobster has opted for firearms.”
“Excellent.” Clarendon arrived, looking rather pale, and Mark smirked. “Given the disparity in our physiques, swords would not have afforded a fair fight.”
“Gentlemen, as per the rules for engagement set forth in the Code Duello, the party of the first offense may avoid the challenge and retain his honor by making a proper apology.” The captain thrust his chest. “Second Lieutenant Clarendon, do you wish to make amends?”
“Most assuredly not.” Clarendon sneered. “As I stand by my assertions.”
“All right.” The captain huffed a breath. “Let it be known that the party of the first offense waives the right to article one. In accordance with rule eighteen, I shall now ask the seconds to load and inspect the weapons.”
“Oh, Mark.” Just then, Amanda charged the fray and wrenched the lapels of his frock. “Please, do not do this. I beg you, as it is not necessary.”
“Amanda, return to your coach, and cover your eyes.” He wiped her tear-stained cheeks. “None of that, love. If you intend to marry a naval man, you must be brave.”
“But you need not risk your life.” Then she whispered, “We can sail away. We could move to Jamaica or even India.”
“You would do that for me?” Despite her fear, she warmed his heart and strengthened his resolve. “You would abandon your home, your family, and your position in society, to be with me?”
“Yes.” Her eyes flared. “Because I have nothing without you.”
“Dearest Amanda, the damage to your reputation is a permanent stain on your family and their legacy.” He cupped her chin. “Need I remind you that polite society is anything but polite, and the scandal would follow us and our children? We could never escape it, and that is not the future I envision for us, so we will deal with it, here and now, as must needs.”
“Is there not some other way?” She sniffled and then clutched his forearms. “I demand you identify an alternative solution.”
“Oh, you are my officious little thing.” He chuckled and then straightened, as her father approached. “Marquess de Gray, I would be in your debt if you would remove your daughter from the premises.”
“Lieutenant Douglas, I am already beholden, so we shall consider the debt discharged.” The marquess grabbed his errant offspring, dragged her half the distance to the coach, but she evaded his grasp. “Amanda, come with me.”
“Wait.” Again she ran to Mark, pulled a folded handkerchief from her bodice, and kissed the linen square. “Wear this in your coat, over your heart. And tomorrow night, at the Chatham ball, I shall bestow upon your lips that which I placed on this humble scrap of cloth.”
“Thank you, darling. And I shall hold you to your promise.” He pressed the lace-edged lady’s accouterment to his nose, inhaled her perfume, and then obeyed her command. “Now go with your father, and
do not witness the events, so I may concentrate and prevail.”
“As you wish.” She opened her mouth and then closed it. “Mark, I--”
“Gentlemen, the seconds have dispatched their duty.” The captain clicked his heels. “It is time.”
“Amanda, leave the area--now.” Mark glanced at Captain Nelson and said, “Are we ready, sir?”
“Aye.” Nelson nodded once and handed over the pistol. “She is loaded.”
“Thank you, sir.” Mark checked his future wife and discovered her on the verge, tucked in her father’s embrace, with her back to the scene. “Let us be done with it.”
“If both parties will assume their respective positions.” The army captain scrutinized Mark’s stance. “Gentlemen, I shall count ten paces, upon the completion of which you shall turn, aim, and fire.”
With a tight grip of the butt, Mark inhaled a deep breath and peered at the sky. Time suspended as an eerie calm invested his frame. Visions of his lady, warm and inviting in his bed, soothed his frazzled nerves, and then he cleared his mind.
“One…two…three…four…five…six--”
Gunfire rent the air, followed by a piercing feminine scream.
Given years of combat at sea, his initial instinct was to duck. After discerning he had suffered no injury, Mark glanced over his shoulder and spied Clarendon, with a sheepish expression and his arm outstretched, the smoking flintlock in his clutch.
“Second Lieutenant Clarendon, you are without honor.” The captain drew his sword, as had Clarendon’s support. “You will remain where you are, sir. First Lieutenant Douglas, as you were.”
“But--he missed.” In light of the coward’s premature ejection, and subsequent public shaming, Mark considered the matter closed. “It is hardly an equitable challenge.”
“Be that as it may, the rules are implicit and non-negotiable,” explained the captain. “You must discharge your weapon, sir.”
And so Mark shrugged and resumed his stance, and the captain recommenced the countdown.
A Jewel In Time; A Sultry Sisters Anthology Page 3
