by Alice Gaines
Montgomery had fared the worst and now looked positively green. His pallor might have something to do with the fact that he held a pathetic old dueling pistol that would more likely burn him than win a duel. Furthermore, he held it in a way that said he wasn’t used to weapons at all. He had to know he was at a serious disadvantage against a military man who was better armed. He stood his ground, though, not showing any sign of fear. His usual self-control obviously had settled back into place. In a while, they’d see if it held.
Jason pointed toward the case Peter had tucked under his arm. “Give Montgomery one of those. Load it for him first.”
“You want him to use one of your own pistols?” Peter asked.
“He can’t shoot that thing. It might misfire and hurt someone.”
Speaking quietly among themselves, the small group of onlookers watched as Jason offered his opponent a decent weapon. If the man hadn’t looked a perfect fool in the inn, he did now, as he clearly had no idea what he was doing.
Peter put powder and a ball into a pistol, walked to Montgomery, and offered it to him stock first. Montgomery glared at Jason but took the gun. When Peter returned, he put his face near Jason’s ear. “He obviously has no idea what he’s about here.”
“I’m betting he’s a bad shot, if he can shoot at all.”
“You should take him easily,” Peter muttered.
“That’s not my plan.”
Peter’s eyebrow went up. “It isn’t?”
“No.” The solution to the entire problem had come to him as he’d tossed and turned just before dawn. If all went well, he’d take a ball somewhere in his person this morning. He could only gamble that Montgomery wouldn’t hit anything critical. While he didn’t relish getting shot, it was his best bet of getting rid of the bastard without having to kill him.
Peter loaded the other pistol and handed it to Jason. Then he turned to face the entire party. “Are you both aware of the rules?”
“Northcross and I shoot at each other,” Montgomery said, his jaw tight. “Is there anything else I should know?”
“That’s it, Mr. Montgomery,” Peter said. “When I tell you to fire.”
“You?” Montgomery asked. “Why should I trust Northcross’s second?”
“Very well,” Peter said. “Mr. Jones, will you do the honors?”
Jonesy straightened a bit. Passing his life in a small village like this one, the man had never been asked to do anything so momentous before, and clearly felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. “Right, sir. Just tell me when.”
“At your pleasure,” Peter said.
“For the love of God, just do it,” Montgomery snapped.
“Well . . . fire!” Jonesy announced.
Montgomery quickly raised his pistol and pulled the trigger. Though Jason aimed his weapon, only one shot rang out, as Jason hadn’t planned to shoot at all if he could avoid it. Something hit his shoulder and went through his clothing and into his flesh, where it lit a fire of pain. Moisture seeped out of the wound, soaking his shirt. Blood. The thought registered in his brain as a dry fact. Well enough. His plan had worked.
Further, the man had hit his left shoulder, leaving his right hand functional. He made a great show of aiming his pistol at a spot right between Montgomery’s eyes. “My turn to shoot.”
All the color drained from Montgomery’s face, but he stood his ground. Jason would have to give him credit for that. Although no rule allowed it, he walked slowly in Montgomery’s direction, his pistol steady, still aimed straight at the man’s head. He had no intention of shooting, so he wasn’t truly violating the spirit of the duel, but his opponent didn’t know that.
“Now, see here,” Montgomery said, his eyes going wide. “You’re not allowed to fire from this close range.”
“Really? Those rules are for gentlemen,” Jason answered. “Given your behavior last night, we know you’re not one of them.”
Montgomery gestured around him. “Are you going to allow this?”
Some of the onlookers mumbled things to each other. They no doubt didn’t have much knowledge of dueling. In any case, none of them seemed willing to intercede on Montgomery’s behalf.
“Well?” Montgomery flailed his arms. “This can’t be allowed. Why don’t any of you at least say something?”
“He’s holding a gun,” Jonesy pointed out.
Finally, Jason arrived in front of Montgomery and lowered his pistol. “You have a spine, I’ll grant you that.”
“What do you want, Northcross?” the man spat.
“I still have my shot, but I don’t think I’ll use it today.” Blood had soaked a good deal of Jason’s shirt by now. He’d been a soldier and had seen some fighting, but this was fast outstripping any experience he had with wounds. How much blood could he lose without fainting dead away? And how was he to impress Montgomery with the gravity of his message if he fell at the man’s feet? He took a breath, steeling himself against the searing pain in his shoulder.
“I don’t want you dead, Montgomery,” he said. “I want you gone. From here and from England. I’d prefer you on the moon if I could arrange it.”
“And out of Lady Rushford’s life.”
“That’s the long and the short of it. Disappear, and I’ll never take my shot at you. But if you ever bother the lady again, I’ll hunt you down and kill you like the cur you are,” Jason said.
“Go to hell,” Montgomery gritted.
“I imagine that may be the end of me, but I doubt I’m headed there just now.” Of course, if he lost enough blood, that could happen. Why wouldn’t the blackguard understand the threat and go away? “You’ll not only remove yourself from her life, but you’ll never speak of her again. Not a word about anything. Anything at all. Do you understand me?”
Montgomery’s eyes narrowed. “She’s told you.”
“She’s told me nothing, and it’s in your best interest to know nothing, too. I hope I’m making myself clear.”
“Perfectly clear,” Montgomery said.
“Very well, then.” Jason lifted the pistol and placed it against Montgomery’s forehead. An audible gasp went up. “Agree, or I end your miserable existence right now. In either case, you’ll never bother Lady Rushford again.”
“All right. You’ve made your point.” Montgomery carefully lifted his hand and pushed the pistol away. “I’ll leave her to you. I hope the two of you rot together.”
At that, Montgomery dropped the pistol and stalked away. Jonesy followed on his heels. “You were brave back there, Roger, my friend. That lunatic might have killed you. Who would have known he’d be that mad?”
“Leave me alone, you oaf,” Montgomery said.
Peter went to Jason and caught him around the ribs before he fell. Suddenly, the world had started to whirl around him as his vision faded. He draped his arm around Peter’s shoulders and wavered a bit.
“What did you think you were doing?” Peter demanded.
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“He might have killed you,” Peter said.
“Then he’d have to run off to Europe for a good long time,” Jason said. “That would have worked, too.”
“You bloody great idiot,” Peter said.
“Someone should go and tell Lady Rushford that she’s no longer engaged.” The world got darker and darker as Jason’s head grew light enough to float off his shoulders. “You might send for the doctor, too.”
With that, his brain faded out, and he sagged against Peter as he lost consciousness.
*
Bess paced. She never paced. She always remained calm, even during Bert’s last illness, as heartbroken as she’d been for him in his suffering. He hadn’t risked his life for her. He hadn’t taken a ball in his shoulder. He hadn’t done something so stupid as to be insane solely to rid her of a man she didn’t want to marry.
So she paced in the hallway outside Jason’s bedroom. Unfortunately, Mr. Swan, the father of Jason’s fiancée, watched her th
e entire time. He did not appear pleased to see her here.
“You seem quite concerned for Captain Northcross’s welfare, Lady Rushford.” His words came out in a soft voice, but steel lay underneath.
“He’s my neighbor and a pleasant young man,” she said, putting an extra emphasis on the word “young.” If she emphasized her age in contrast to Jason’s and certainly to Swan’s daughter’s, she might make herself sound matronly and therefore offering no threat to the upcoming marriage.
“Do you know anything of the circumstances of his injury?” Swan asked.
In fact, she did. His friend, Lieutenant Weston, had told her Jason had challenged Montgomery to a duel and then allowed the man to shoot him. A duel, of all things. Deliberately allowing himself to be wounded. What in heaven’s name had he been thinking?
“Only a few details,” she said. That was true enough if you ignored the magnitude of the details she did have. “What did you hear?”
“A hunting accident,” Mr. Swan said. “Although I don’t know who hunts with a dueling pistol.”
“I’m sure if anyone could manage that, Captain Northcross could.”
He humphed. He didn’t believe the story, and she couldn’t fault him. He’d also figured out that the incident involved her somehow. What a colossal mess.
During the conversation, she’d slowed a bit, but she started pacing again. When in heaven’s name would they let her in to see Jason? Certainly not until Miss Swan, his bride-to-be, came out. Then Bess would have the pleasure of facing Jason’s family. If they knew the truth, they’d be furious, and she’d deserve their anger. He’d put himself in danger because of her. The knight in shining armor riding to her rescue. She hadn’t imagined anything like that could happen since she’d learned as a child that dragons didn’t exist and handsome princes were for prettier girls.
Eventually the door opened, and Miss Swan appeared. Her skin was pale, and she held a handkerchief in her hand. Dear heaven, could the injury be that bad?
“Is Ja . . . Captain Northcross well?” Bess asked, her voice unsteady, curse it all.
Mr. Swan’s head snapped around at her near mistake of calling Jason by his first name. He stared at her for a second or two before turning to his daughter. “How is he?”
“The doctor says he’ll recover fully,” Miss Swan said. “Oh, Papa, I was so worried.”
Swan put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “There, now. The wedding will take place as we’ve planned.”
“Of course it will,” Bess said. “He’s young and strong.”
“You see?” Swan said. “Lady Rushford agrees.”
Miss Swan turned her huge, dark eyes on Bess. “Thank you. It’s sweet of you to be concerned.”
“Your concern is noted, my lady.” Mr. Swan gave Bess a warning look over his daughter’s head. “Let’s go find your mother, shall we?”
“Yes, let’s do,” Miss Swan answered. The two of them moved away, leaving her in the hallway, staring at the door. It was still open a crack, so she went to it and peered inside.
Viscount Hadleigh stood next to his brother’s bed, his arm around his wife’s waist. Lily hovered on the other side. She spotted Bess and let out a sob. “Oh, Lady Rushford. Isn’t it terrible?”
“I don’t mean to intrude,” she said.
“You’re not intruding.” Jason’s brother said, glancing toward her. “Please, do come in.”
She did and closed the door behind her. None of them appeared angry with her, but Lily was clearly distraught. Bess went to the girl and took her hand. “Miss Swan said he’d be fine. She was right, wasn’t she?”
“She was,” Lily said. “But it’s all my fault he was hurt.”
“She keeps saying that, Lady Rushford, but she won’t tell us what she means,” Lady Hadleigh said. “Can you explain?”
“Not at all.” But she’d find out as soon as she could have a moment alone with Lily. This sounded eerily similar to Lily’s protestations that her engagement had been Lily’s fault, and that had involved their hidden identity as Jack Sterling.
She finally found the courage to look at Jason. He was nearly the color of the sheet pulled up to his chin. He seemed so young with his eyes closed. Just a boy with the face of an angel who’d quickly turn into a little devil when he awoke.
“Is he asleep?” she asked softly.
“He came around long enough to howl as the doctor pulled the ball out of him,” his brother said. “We gave him a fair bit of liquor, so it’ll take him a while to sleep it off.”
“Thank heaven.” Her shoulders relaxed for the first time since Lieutenant Weston had appeared at Carlton House with the news about Jason’s injury. Neither the viscount nor his wife seemed worried, but Lily was still beside herself, trembling next to Bess.
“Do you mind if I stay with him for just a moment?” Bess asked. “Lily will keep me company.”
“If you like.” Lady Hadleigh gave her husband a glance full of love. “I think I’ll get some rest now that we know Jason is well.”
“Of course, my dear. I’ll come with you.” Viscount Hadleigh helped his wife toward the door and then turned to his sister. “Don’t stay long. He needs his rest.”
“I’ll leave in a bit,” Lily said.
Lord Hadleigh kissed his sister on the forehead and then led his wife from the room and closed the door behind them.
Bess took Lily by the shoulders. “He really will recover, won’t he?”
“The doctor says so. He already seems better.”
“Then what has you so upset?”
Lily started to cry quietly, tears spilling from her eyes. “It’s my fault he was hurt. I’ve created a terrible, terrible mess, and now you’re going to be angry with me.”
“Why don’t you let me decide that?”
Lily lifted the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “I suppose I must.”
“Please.”
“I told him,” Lily said in a tiny voice. “I told Jason everything.”
“Everything?” It took a moment for Lily’s meaning to register. “You told him about Jack Sterling?”
Lily bit her lip and nodded. “I told him that was how Mr. Montgomery forced you to marry him.”
“Oh, dear God, that’s why he did it.’
“I couldn’t let you marry a man you didn’t love, especially not when I’d caused it to become necessary,” Lily said. “And I couldn’t think of any way to make things right myself.”
She let her gaze rest on Jason again. He might be an utter fool to have fought a duel, but he was a precious utter fool. And damn him, why did he keep making her love him more and more? “So you turned to your brother.”
“He’s very brave and a wonderful brother.” Lily let out a wail. “And I almost got him killed.”
“Shhh.” Bess gathered Lily into her arms and stroked her back while her shoulders shook. “He’ll be fine. Men are always doing stupid things. Your family will laugh about this in a few years.”
“I’m so sorry. I caused the problem to begin with, and then I told your secret.”
“He won’t repeat it.” Although she’d find out soon what he thought of a group of women writing those kinds of novels. Not that his opinion would have any effect on their work, but she had to admit to some curiosity on the subject.
When Lily had quieted, Bess eased the girl away from her. Lily had such a sweet and open disposition. No wonder her brothers doted on her. Bess could develop a maternal feeling for her if given a chance.
“Everything’s over,” Bess said. “Montgomery’s gone. Jason will be fine. Everything’s come out splendidly.”
“Bess?” Jason said, his voice oddly rusty and slurred with drink.
“I’m here.” She went to the bed and managed to keep herself from sitting down on the edge and touching him all over to reassure herself that he really was here and alive. She couldn’t quite stop from reaching to his face and pushing a few dark hairs out of his eyes.
�
�Bess.” A silly grin spread over his face, although he hadn’t opened his eyes. “I got rid of him. He won’t bother you again.”
“My hero,” she said. “You idiot.”
Beside her, Lily giggled. At least she’d accomplished lifting the girl’s spirits.
“I love you, Bess.”
Lily gasped. “I knew it!”
Damn it, what now? The man who’d just risked his life for her needed to hear that she loved him back. And his sister would jump on the confession and give them no peace until they’d done the impossible . . . agree to be married. She’d have to worry about that later. For now, she had to answer him.
“I love you, too, you impossible man.”
Lily squeezed Bess’s hand and fairly jumped up and down. To keep her from squealing or something else Jason might hear, Bess fixed her with her most menacing glare. A warning no one could miss. In reply, Lily placed a finger over her lips, signaling she’d remain quiet.
“Go back to sleep,” Bess whispered to Jason, who promptly sighed and turned his head, placing the side of his face against the pillow.
Bess took Lily by the hand and led her into the hallway outside. “Now, young lady, you didn’t hear any of that.”
“But—”
“I won’t hear any buts. This changes nothing. He’s engaged to Miss Swan, and he’ll marry her.”
“He can’t,” Lily said. “That wouldn’t be right.”
“He needs the proper sort of wife, not someone ten years his senior,” Bess said. “Besides, he would damage Miss Swan’s reputation by dropping her now.”
“I want him to marry you. We’d be sisters.”
“I’m old enough to be your mother.” That was only a modest exaggeration. “Doesn’t that prove to you how impossible the match would be?”
“Not at all.”
Clearly, she couldn’t make any headway by appealing to a sense of reality. A cosseted girl like Lily thought the world existed to make her happy. She’d learn to live in reality as she grew older, but there was no reasoning with her now.
