Code of Honor

by Andrea Pickens

  Justin's face took on a look that mirrored his inner turmoil. "I don't understand Lord Branford's actions, but I think I have come to believe that whatever honor demanded, it was not what took place the other morning."

  Ashton let out an exasperated sigh as he toyed with the silver inkwell on his desk. "I have been turned away every day. Twice today. He will admit no one. But the doctor says he should recover."

  Relief flooded Justin's face. "I am truly glad to hear it. " He looked up at Ashton. "I meant to miss, you know," he said softly. "But he moved. . ."

  "Yes, well it seems Sebastian didn't miss where he aimed," snapped Ashton sarcastically. "By all rights, you should be lying with your toes cocked up for all your damn headstrong pride."

  "I am well aware of that, sir." Justin's gaze fell to the floor. "I cannot blame you for thinking me the verriest of fools, or worse, for all of my actions. I... I don't know quite what to think of myself. You see, everything I have been taught to believe as a gentleman tells me I acted in the right, that honor was served. Yet it feels very hollow — something inside says I was wrong." He raked a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. "No doubt I sound like a complete sapskull, but even though it seems he betrayed my trust in him, a part of me refuses to believe it is true." The young man's voice caught in his throat. "I wish I could understand it all."

  Ashton took a moment to light a cigar. He blew a thick cloud of smoke and watched the rings drift slowly into nothingness. It had taken courage for the young man to face him and admit doubt and error — in fact, few men of his acquaintance, of any age or experience, would have had such honesty. His initial anger began to ebb away, replaced by a grudging respect.

  "I see why you remind Sebastian of his cousin. That is a compliment by the way, in case you are tempted to give credence to one of the other filthy rumors. He cared very much for Jeremy."

  Justin's gaze remained riveted to the floor but Ashton could detect the slight tremor of his jaw.

  At that moment the door opened.

  "Oh! Henry, I didn't realize you had company." Cecelia Ashton swept into the room.

  "Good evening, Mr. Chilton." She eyed him with a sharp curiosity. It was an odd time to have visitors, especially one that was not on intimate terms with the family.

  Justin bowed. "I was just taking my leave, Lady Ashton." Then he turned back to his lordship. "Sir, if I may, I would like to be allowed to call again tomorrow to see if you have any further news."

  "Regarding what?" asked Lady Ashton. Very little escaped her notice and the tension in the room was palpable.

  Justin colored. "Ah..."

  Before Ashton could intercede, Lady Ashton fixed him with the expression of a hawk honing in on a sparrow. "Yes, Mr. Chilton? You were saying?"

  "Ah.... " The young man looked around helplessly. Ashton closed his eyes in resignation. "Ah... on Lord Branford's condition."

  "What is wrong with Sebastian?"

  Justin looked at Ashton.

  "Henry?"

  When her husband didn't answer, she turned back to Justin. He was no match for her piercing stare. After a moment of uncomfortable silence he cleared his throat.

  "I'm afraid he's been, well, shot."

  "Shot!" exclaimed Lady Ashton. She threw a withering look at her husband.

  "Don't blame me, my dear. I did everything in my power to stop it," he mumbled, a defensive look on his harried face.

  "And just when were you going to inform me of this?" Lady Ashton placed both hands on her hips. "Damnation, Henry, how is he?"

  Lord Ashton winced. "Language, my dear," he reminded, indicating their guest. "He should survive."

  "How in heavens name did this happen?"

  Justin colored even more deeply. "I'm afraid I'm to blame," he answered, unable to look her in the eyes. "I called him out."

  Her face flushed with emotion. "This is outside of enough! Kindly explain yourself! why you have shot one of our dearest friends?"

  He took a deep breath. "As I have told your husband, I will not go into particulars, but Lord Branford... hurt my sister in the gravest possible manner, after giving me his word he would not toy with her feelings."

  Lady Ashton went white, "I don't believe it for an instant, Mr. Chilton."

  "Do you think I wish to believe it myself?" exclaimed Justin in a low, pained voice. "But he admitted it when confronted by my sister."

  "I think you must go into the particulars, sir, if we are to get to the bottom of this terrible accusation."

  Justin shot a confused look at Lord Ashton. "It is not exactly something that can repeated in front of a lady," he faltered.

  "You may rest assured that Lady Ashton is difficult to shock," said Ashton dryly. "When you enter the matrimonial state, you will understand."

  Justin still looked hesitant.

  Lady Ashton laid a hand on his arm. "Mr. Chilton, you may rest assured that neither my husband nor myself engage in idle gossip. Your sister's privacy is safe with us. And to fathom this disturbing situation we really must know what has happened — we only want to help."

  The young man's eyes slid back to the floor. "Lord Branford entered a bet at his club," said Justin, his voice so low as to be barely audible. "The wager was five hundred pounds that...that he could m . m . mount my sister."

  Lady Ashton gave a horrified gasp. "No! Sebastian would never have done such a thing. May I ask how you learned of it?"

  "We overheard a private conversation. Two gentlemen who were present were trying to decide just how to warn us."

  Lady Ashton gave a dogged shake of her head. "Sebastian would never ruin any innocent girl. Never."

  "But when Alex asked him if it was true, he said yes."

  Lady Ashton's brow furrowed. "There must be an explanation for it."

  "What possible explanation could there be for such a thing?" asked Justin, his voice full of anguish.

  "I don't know, but I intend to find out." She made for the door.

  "Cecelia," exclaimed Lord Ashton. "What do you have in mind?"

  "I am going to see Sebastian, of course."

  "He won't let you in. I ‘ve already tried twice today."

  "Hmmph." She gave a toss of her blond curls. "We'll see about that."

  "Wait. I shall go with you, if you insist on trying."

  "You will do no such thing, Henry."

  The door shut with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a slam.

  Lord Ashton cast a baleful look at Justin. "I wish you better luck in managing a wife than I seem to have."

  For the first time in a while, a ghost of a smile stole to the young man's lips.

  "Lord Ashton, if you knew my sister, you would understand that I know exactly what you are up against."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Alex glanced distractedly around the room. Mr. Chandler's report on the latest arrival of specimens from the East Indies went unheeded as she searched the crowd for Lord Hammerton. She had almost given up hope of his making an appearance at the ball when finally his sleek, well-groomed head appeared nearby, bent slightly in polite attention to the words of a buxom brunette. Alex shook off a slight feeling of unease. She was no doubt imagining anything amiss beneath the polished manners and immaculate dress. After all, he was a gentleman, and had expressed nothing but solicitous concern for both Justin and herself.

  Hammerton solved her dilemma as to how to attract his attention by meeting her gaze almost immediately and making a slight bow of acknowledgement. Disengaging himself from conversation with the lady by his side, he strolled over to where she was standing.

  "How pleasant to see you again, Miss Chilton. I have missed you this past week. Have you been well?" He bent over her hand as he spoke, performing the greeting with just the right amount of flourish. A few young men standing nearby eyed his style with a touch of envy.

  "I have been... occupied," answered Alex.

  "Well, I for one am delighted that you have found the time to grace this evening's soiree." />
  Alex couldn't help but notice that his smile had no real warmth to it, not like.... Stop it, she chided herself. There was little point in dwelling on such thoughts. Besides, it should only serve as a reminder that her judgment concerning people was not as good as she once believed. She forced a smile on her own lips and concentrated on being charming herself — no mean feat.

  "How kind of you to notice my absence."

  "How could I fail to notice," he replied smoothly. "Now I hope that you will not deprive me of the favor of a dance?"

  "I should be delighted."

  As she lifted her arm to place her hand on his shoulder, Alex felt a twinge of pain in her injured shoulder and winced slightly.

  Hammerton didn't miss the gesture.

  "Are you feeling alright, Miss Chilton? " he asked, his voice full of concern.

  "Yes, quite. Just a silly accident. It is nothing, really."

  He inclined his head a fraction and refrained from inquiring further on the subject.

  Really, thought Alex. He is a perfect gentleman.

  They exchanged pleasantries throughout the dance, but as the music was ending, Alex turned serious. "My lord, I feel unaccountably warm. Would you be so kind as to accompany me for a short walk in the garden?" In a lower voice she added, "I wish to ask your advice on a most pressing matter, if I may be so bold."

  "I should be honored by any confidence you wish entrust to me," he said earnestly. He took her hand and guided her out through the set of french doors.

  Alex felt even more on edge as she walked into the cool evening air on Hammerton's arm. It was worry over Justin she told herself, trying to banish the nagging sense of unease.

  "I am very grateful for your concern," she began. "I believe I mentioned to you my fears that the mishaps befalling my brother were no mere accidents?"

  Hammerton nodded.

  Alex came to a halt where a tall, decorative trellis heavy with tuber roses screened them from any prying ears and eyes. "I now have reason to be sure that someone means him harm."

  He knitted his brows together. "Truly? That is a serious charge indeed, Miss Chilton. May I ask why?"

  "Because last week someone tried to kill me as well."

  The words seemed to shock him. He took a half step backwards, as if recoiling from a physical blow. "Perhaps — I mean no offense — perhaps you are magnifying an incident in light of your understandable concern for your... "

  "A gunshot leaves little to the imagination," interrupted Alex, a little more sharply than she wished.

  "No, it does not." He rubbed his chin, as if in deep thought. Alex was relieved of some of her anxiety by the fact that he seemed to be taking her seriously at last.

  "Have you discussed your concerns with anyone else? I have noticed that Lord Branford seems to be a friend...." He let the sentence die on a note of question.

  Alex carefully schooled her features to remain impassive, "Lord Branford is merely an acquaintance who has a passing interest in botany. He is not one I would discuss personal matters with, while you, sir, have kindly expressed an interest in Justin. If I have overstepped... "

  "Not at all." In the shadowed recesses of the overhanging foliage Alex missed the slight smile of satisfaction that passed fleetingly over Hammerton's face. In an instant it was gone, replaced by an expression more befitting the gravity of the situation. "You were quite right to speak to me, Miss Chilton. Your brother is an amiable young man and I am happy to be of service to you and your family in trying to put an end to this nasty business." He paused and regarded her with a strange intensity. "Tell me, have you any idea why anyone would want to harm either of you?"

  "No!" All of her frustration and confusion combined to make the word sound suspiciously like a wail, though it was barely louder than a whisper.

  Hammerton mistook its origins and patted her arm soothingly. She restrained the urge to flick his fingers away. He meant it kindly, she knew, yet his touch was oddly repellent. For some reason she did not make mention of her father's letter. It really was of no import anyway.

  "I am not without contacts with which to pursue an investigation of this matter," he continued in a silky tone. "I shall begin making discreet inquiries immediately and will keep you informed as to what I discover."

  Alex breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared her trepidation concerning the man was as misplaced as her earlier trust.

  "Thank you, sir. I am very much in your debt."

  Hammerton touched her arm once more. "You have come to the right person, I assure you, Miss Chilton." The same chilling smile crept back to his lips. "And now perhaps it would be wise for us to return to the ballroom before any idle tongues are set to wagging."

  A true gentleman, Alex had to admit as she let herself be led back into the glittering lights and festive mood.

  Cecelia Ashton marched up the front steps of the magnificent townhouse and brought the heavy knocker down with a bang.

  Once. Twice. Three times. Her foot tapped impatiently on the ornate landing as she waited for Branford's footman to open the massive oak door.

  When he did finally crack it enough to observe the unexpected visitor, his face barely masked his surprise at seeing a lone female — and a diminutive one at that — seeking admittance at such an hour.

  "Kindly open the door. I am in no mood to tarry here on the doorstep all evening, " snapped Lady Ashton.

  For a moment, the man looked utterly nonplussed at being spoken to in such a manner. Then, recovering his equilibrium, he replied to the demand in a stentorian voice. "I am sorry, Madam, but Lord Branford is not at home."

  "Fustian!" With the point of her neatly furled parasol, she pushed the door wide open.

  The footman moved his rather large form to block the entrance.

  "Madam!" he intoned again, though his inflection indicated his doubt as to whether she was deserving of such polite address. "I repeat, Lord Branford is not receiving visitors."

  The parasol came down hard on his shins. With an undignified yelp, he recoiled sideways, allowing Lady Ashton to sweep by.

  "Is he in the library?" Her head was already poking into the darkened room. "No. I take it, then, he is in his bedchamber?"

  The man made a strangled sound.

  "You needn't fear any repercussions," she airily as she ascended the stairs. "I shall inform Lord Branford you had no choice in the matter."

  At the top of the landing she hesitated. On the right, a door was ajar and the faint light of a single candle was barely discernible. She entered very quietly.

  Branford lay under a light coverlet, his eyes closed. His white linen shirt, open at the throat, heightened the pallor of his skin, evident even under the rough stubble of his unshaven chin and tangle of uncombed locks. Without opening his eyes, he gave a faint smile. "Poor Hawkins was no match for you, I see, Cecelia."

  She dropped her parasol and came to the edge of the bed. "Oh, Sebastian." Her hand smoothed a tangle of hair from his brow and she brushed a quick kiss on his heated cheek.

  He shifted slightly, wincing involuntarily at the pain that shot through his side.

  "Are you badly hurt?" Lady Ashton asked as she moved the coverlet down to expose his chest. Through the fine weave of his garment she could see the heavy bandage wrapped under his breast.

  "No vital organs damaged. Just a nick to the ribs. The doctor says I am lucky." He gave a harsh laugh. "I wish I could feel the same."

  Lady Ashton moved a chair so she might sit by his side. "My dear friend, " she said softly, taking up his limp hand and holding it to her cheek. "You were there for me in my time of need. My sister and her child would not be alive if not for you—"

  He cut her off. "I only did what Henry would have done."

  "But Henry wasn't there! You defended her from that blackguard. Now, when you are in need, let me help you."

  "I am beyond help." he said bleakly.

  Lady Ashton squared her shoulders. "Nonsense," she said forcefully. "Though how a man
of your intelligence managed to get himself in such a coil is beyond me. Kindly explain this ridiculous bet."

  Branford eyes shot wide open. "How the devil..."

  "Justin Chilton is no match for me either. He is, by the way, feeling quite wretched over this."

  "I hope you weren't too hard on him. He did what any loyal brother must have done under the circumstances."

  "I didn't have to be — he is doing a good enough job on his own. Henry wouldn't admit it, but I think even he was moved by the boy's courage in coming to our house to find out how you were."