by Pamela Labud
“An arrangement to which you and Lord Bladen both objected?”
“We did. He threatened me, of course, saying that he was going to take me to court and force us to allow him to marry her.”
“So you acted first.”
Ash nodded. “I did. I asked Lord Bladen to take my sister-in-law to Hampshire until I could challenge Bainbridge’s claim. Since the two of them had been friends for years, during their time together, they fell in love and were most anxious to be married right away. With the help of my aunt, the Dowager Duchess of Summerton, I obtained a special license and we held a ceremony shortly thereafter.”
“And what happened after the wedding?”
“My wife and I returned to London, only to be summoned a short time later. Lady Bladen had been abducted and his lordship attacked. I immediately returned to Hampshire and, with the help of two of my friends, managed to find Lord Bladen. We attempted to rescue Lady Bladen, but Mr. Bainbridge and his men took up arms against us and managed to escape. From there, Lord Bladen and I followed them to the cove where he later confronted Bainbridge.”
“You didn’t stay with Lord Bladen to help him rescue Lady Bladen. Why not?”
“Because in our search for Lady Bladen, we learned that Mr. Bainbridge was operating a smuggling operation. We both felt it was my duty to return to London and inform the authorities at once. Which I did.”
“And the smugglers?”
Ash smiled. “I believe they have been caught and are now awaiting prosecution. In fact, several of them have given signed statements that implicate Mr. Bainbridge’s involvement and subsequent plans to sell a shipment of stolen firearms on the open market.”
“So, Mr. Bainbridge was not the sort of man you’d want forcing a beloved family member into marriage.”
“He was a liar, a thief, a smuggler, and a traitor. He was also implicated in the deaths of his former wives. No, sir, I most certainly did not want to see him married to my sister-in-law.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
—
At long last, Michael was called to speak. He could have refused, but after all the testimony he’d heard, he knew he had to plead his case.
After the swearing in, he stood facing the barrister. The man had been positively rude and Michael meant to chastise him for it.
“Lord Bladen, it’s been said that you’ve been involved with four duels prior to the one for which you are being tried, have you not?”
“I have. But it was more a challenge of one’s shooting expertise, as rarely did anyone suffer more than a scratch.”
“Sir, I implore you to only answer the questions asked, without further embellishment.”
“That’s very nice of you to implore.”
The other man clamped his jaw and turned a bit red-faced. “The question, my lord, is regarding your illegal dueling.”
“Yes, of course. I’ve done so, but only on the field of honor.”
“And was anyone severely injured or killed?”
Michael paused a moment. There was no way he could answer that question without damaging his case.
“Yes.”
“Please name the injuries.”
“The worst was, of course, the death of Mr. Bainbridge, not that he didn’t deserve it.”
Several people spoke at once, there were gales of laughter and it took a full five minutes before the barrister could be heard again.
“My lord, please answer the question without further remarks.”
Michael gave him a smirk. “Of course.” Michael decided to play the fool. “What was the question again?”
“What other injuries have you caused. Surely you’re a superior marksman.”
“I am. But there are a lot of things that can determine success of one’s shot. The wind, for instance, the time of day…”
“The question, sir,” the other man demanded.
“I believe one gentleman suffered injuries to his arm and shoulder, another one his leg.”
“My lord, aren’t you forgetting something?”
Michael did not want to take this further. “Am I?”
The other man clearly was beyond his patience. “Your eye, Lord Bladen. You lost your eye.”
“Ah, yes. Now, that was an accident. My challenger had very little skill at dueling, a fact that I regret very much. He fired and his shot went awry. A piece of shrapnel struck my eye.”
“In summation, Lord Bladen, you have killed, maimed, and even injured yourself in the course of your illegal activities.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Now, in regards to your involvement with Mr. Bainbridge…”
“I beg your pardon, but I only had one involvement with that blackguard. When I’d rescued my wife and he meant to kill me to get her back. Then, and only then, did I challenge him to a duel, the outcome of which everyone here is aware of.”
“You had no business dealings with him?”
“None.”
“You did not take part in his smuggling operations?”
Michael leaned forward, suddenly seeing where this line of questioning was going. “I had nothing whatsoever to do with that man, except for the rescue of my wife.”
The barrister turned to address the peers. “No further questions.”
Fisk jumped to his feet. “Just a few more questions, my lord, though I know you detest having legal counsel.”
“I do, but go on.”
“Thank you, sir. Now, for every one of the aforementioned duels, did you have good reasons for engaging in these contests?”
“I thought so at the time.”
“Would you please share them with the court?”
“I’d rather not.”
Another bout of laughter went around the room.
Fisk smiled and nodded. “I understand, but since you are paying me quite a sum to represent you, perhaps you should follow my advice and do so.”
Michael sighed. There really was no getting around it. “The fact is, sir, that I’m a soldier. As such, I feel it my duty to protect those who can’t defend themselves. So, every time I was at a function and a young lady’s honor was maligned, I felt it was my duty to defend them. I did so with as much caution as I could spare, but when you are the target of a pistol, you do your best to avoid getting shot. So, minimizing my attack on others meant that they may have been scratched, but not mortally so.”
“So, is that your explanation for engaging Mr. Bainbridge?”
“It is not. I proposed a duel because I knew he was quite arrogant about his superior abilities and because I knew I could best him.”
“Were you defending someone’s honor that time?”
“As I’ve said, I was defending my wife. Her life was in danger.”
“Please explain.”
“He was a widower three times over. I’d heard reports that he treated his wives terribly and that they all died under suspicious circumstances.”
“So it wasn’t merely jealousy you had for Mr. Bainbridge?”
“No, it was not. I love my wife and I meant to save her, even if it meant sacrificing my life in the balance.”
Fisk leaned forward. “My lord, do you love your wife?”
“With every draw of my breath and with every beat of my heart.”
Michael heard a quiet sob and looked to see Beatrice’s head bent; she was holding her handkerchief to her face.
“Thank you, my lord.”
And that had been the whole of it. Both attorneys argued their case, one accusing him, the other praising him.
Chapter 22
The following morning, Michael was brought back to the courtroom for the judgment to be read. Once again the room was filled beyond capacity with excited onlookers. He paid them no mind, instead his attention going only to where Beatrice sat. Leaning forward, hands clenched, she was clearly distraught.
He meant to send her a reassuring look, but he knew it would do no good to offer her false hope. Instead, he only nodded in her d
irection and decided to look on her no more until the verdict was read.
Once everyone was in place, the bailiff called everyone to order. Excited whispers whirred around the room, accusations and explanation tossed about.
“Lord Bladen,” the duke of Curryington shouted above the din, “the following has been decided by a jury of your peers. In the first charge, you are judged guilty of unlawful dueling. To that the court sentences you to a fine to be disclosed at a later time and recognizes your imprisonment in the Tower. To the charge of murder, you have been judged not guilty.”
In turn, each member of the peerage stood and echoed the verdict. Every one of them had judged him not guilty of murder.
Michael let out a breath and heard Ash’s cheer behind him.
Curryington sat back and crossed his arms. “Lord Bladen, I don’t want to ever see you brought before us again with the complaint of dueling, or I will have no choice but to see you prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Is that understood?”
“I promise, Your Honor. My days of dueling are at an end.”
“See that they are, sir. See that they are.”
The room burst into cheers around him.
Michael turned to face the gallery. In the next moment, Ash was beside him grasping his hand and shaking it with vigor. Beatrice ran into his arms. Pulling her close, he kissed her, deeply and passionately. Her touch was like heaven, her embrace a calm to his stormy life; her kiss was a balm to his soul.
“Let’s go home,” she said when they’d broken their kiss.
He could see delicate tears sliding down her face and the slight trembling of her chin. It cut him to the marrow because of what he now intended to do.
Ash cleared his throat. “I want you both to come to Summerton for a few days. Amelia and Caro insist on spoiling you.”
Michael barely heard his words. “Of course”—he kissed Beatrice again—“that is, if my lady approves.”
“I do approve,” she told him. “The sooner, the better. I hope to never see this place again.”
“Nor do I, my love. Nor do I.”
—
Bea and Michael shared a carriage back to Summerton with Ash and Caro, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. In spite of his good cheer, Bea couldn’t help but feel that something was still bothering her husband. He seemed a bit subdued, and at first she thought it might have been the results of his imprisonment and the trial, for when the conversation veered away from him, Bea saw his expression cloud his eye and a hint of sadness in the set of his mouth. Or perhaps all he needed was feeding up and a few nights’ rest.
“So, my friend,” Ash asked, “are the two of you still set on traveling abroad?”
Michael looked at Bea and his heart swelled in his chest. He’d pledged to love, honor, and care for her and he would do so to his very last breath.
“Whatever my lady wishes.”
Chapter 23
Michael awoke before sunrise. Beatrice lay beside him, curled on her side and sleeping deeply. He watched her in the dim light, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the musical cadence of her breathing, and the lingering scent of lavender and red wine. It was a heady brew, and lying beside her after a full night of lovemaking left him breathless.
More than that, she deserved better than him.
Far better.
In the midst of his wandering thoughts, he heard the distant jangling of a rig outside the bedroom widow. Because their room was above the yard by the stables, with the windows open, he could hear the horse sounds over the usual morning cacophony.
Sliding out of bed, he crept quietly to the window and peered out.
Below the window, a carriage waited. Beside it stood a woman of slender build, wearing a black gown and holding a black lace umbrella. For the moment she was turned away from him, inspecting the carriage, slowly walking from its front to its back. Then, turning around to face him, she lifted her chin and stared directly at him.
His gut twisted. She was beckoning to him and, like a moth to a flame, he could no longer run away from his past. Not anymore.
Bea deserved better.
This was to be a duel of a different sort that awaited him, and he knew hers was one bullet he could not avoid.
Slipping from the room, he made his way down the stairs and out the back of the mansion. He’d heard the rumblings of Summerton’s staff moving about, preparing for the day. He’d also heard muffled noises from the nursery as he passed the rooms. Most likely the children were up and about and their nanny and her staff were doing their best to contain them until Ash and Caro were awake.
“Michael?” He turned to find his sister-in-law in the hall, dressed already in her morning gown of pale yellow trimmed in daisy embroidery.
“Good morning, Caroline. How fare you this fine day?”
She gave him a long look. “I think the question is, how are you?”
He shrugged. “I’m well, thank you.”
“Are you leaving us so soon?” She pointed to his wrinkled shirt and pants, and the jacket he held over his left arm.
“Not at all. I have to go see off a friend,” he lied. “Beatrice is still sleeping. I didn’t want to wake her.”
Caroline stared at him for a minute, clearly considering whether or not he was telling her the truth. “Very well. Shall we see you at brunch then?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” He smiled, doing his best to reassure her.
“Very well,” she said. Then she looked away, suddenly seeming unsure of what she should say next.
“Caroline, you’re worried for your sister, and I understand that. I promise it’s her well-being that concerns me above all else.”
His sister-in-law nodded. “I know. Whether or not the two of you dare to admit it, you are in love.”
He nodded, suddenly tired. “Rest assured, anything I do from now on will be because I love your sister.”
“Of course,” she said.
A loud infant wail sounded from down the hall. He smiled. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Without warning, Caroline hugged him tight. “You know I’ve always wanted a brother. I’m very happy that it is you, Michael. But know this. I will box your ears if you don’t behave,” she quipped.
Michael smiled. “If I don’t, I shall bend down so you can reach them better.”
With that she was gone, and he couldn’t miss her dabbing at her eyes as she went.
Michael shook his head. No sense in regretting it now, he thought. Once and for all, it was time to end the merry chase he’d led them all on.
It was time to look to the future. That’s what he thought as he made his way through the waking mansion and out toward the stable.
It wasn’t until he was almost upon the carriage that he looked up to face the visitor. His stomach tightened and his breath left his chest. He saw Constance as she truly was. She was no longer the lighthearted woman who’d spread laughter and mischief everywhere she went. Nor was she the playful and caring lover he’d once thought she was.
Any thoughts of her innocence were rent asunder when he looked into her face. She was evil and oily darkness, wearing her black mourning gown, as she should have been since her husband’s death. Her hands were now claws that reached out to him. His blood ran as cold as a winter’s eve when he took hold of them and bent down, kissing the air above her knuckles.
“Thank heavens you’ve come. I swear I’m about to catch a chill.”
He let out a breath. “Really? Because I find it rather warm this morning. Why are you here?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know.
“I’ve come for you, my love.”
“I’m a married man, Connie.”
She laughed. “Oh, my goodness, you are the most entertaining thing, I swear.”
“You find that funny?”
“I do.” She waved her fan at him. “You’re no good for the likes of her. Anyone who has half a brain would know that.”
“Really?”
She gave him a smug look.
“A man of your”—she looked him up and down—“virility simply cannot stay satisfied by a cup of bland pudding like your wife.”
“I told you before…”
“Yes, yes, I know. You’re married. But I know the truth. She’s too pristine and sweet, that one. She’d never do for the kind of mischief you’ll be wanting to get into.”
Michael tried to push down the rising burn of anger stirring inside him. “I’ve little patience for your games, Connie. What do you want?”
“To take you all over the world, my love. To China, India, America even. I’ve been longing for some real cane sugar, you know. Dancing with the colonials, or perhaps partaking in the grand hunt for ivory.”
Michael grimaced. “After all that’s happened, you think I’d take you back? After the way you so cruelly maligned me in court?”
She stepped forward and he could feel her heat washing over him. But it wasn’t a lover’s warmth. It was a funeral pyre.
“You know you need me, Michael. You always have.”
“Why would I ever need you?”
“Because I know your secrets. All of them. How you’d tried to coax the young heiress in Spain to marry you, or how you shamed your late wife into her grave. I know there were others in between…”
“I’ve already told Beatrice about all of my life before I met her.”
She laughed. “Have you now? What a good husband you are.” She placed her hand on his chest. “But aren’t you afraid, Michael?”
Michael closed his eye. There was no escaping her or the long trail of tears he’d left behind. “Afraid of what?”
“That you’ll drag her down with you. It’s only a matter of time. Your own father told you so.”
Michael stepped back. “What in blazes are you talking about?”
“You, my love. Every woman who has ever cared for you has come to a bad end. Your mother ran away. The heiress? Her own father nearly beat her to death and sold her into a loveless marriage after you ruined her.”
“Isabella lied to me. She was already engaged when we met. I didn’t know…”
