Page 13 of Escape of the Scoundrel (Escape #1)

“W hat’s the matter?” Lily asked the following morning as Harriet, washed and dressed, gazed out of their bedchamber window.

Harriet turned quickly to face her. Lily looked somehow brighter than yesterday, still pale and not exactly rested despite her long sleep, but her eyes were less dull, and she was obviously paying more attention.

“Nothing new,” Harriet said lightly. Which was not remotely true . She just had no idea how to explain it to her sister. She wanted to say, I think I have fallen in love with Lord Sanderly. He kissed me last night and it was so wonderful...

And there, she ran out of clarity. Could a man kiss like that and not mean it even a little? Yet having made her feel... that , he had sent her back inside as if she had failed some simple test.

She must have disappointed him.

Or shocked him by her forwardness. She had all but flung herself into his arms, after all. But then there had been that look in his eyes, tender and yet bewildered, almost desperately so...

It was all ridiculously confusing, and she didn’t know whether she was deliriously happy or tragically sad.

If he leaves...

He would leave. In his heart, he had already gone.

The clip-clop of a horse on the flags below dragged her attention back to the window and caught at her breath, because it was Lord Sanderly himself, mounted on a large grey horse. The animal trotted briskly toward the bridle path and the woods. Its rider did not look back at the house. In fact, they broke into a canter. There was no way she could catch up with him.

So much for her hope of coming across him during another early morning walk.

He did not want to see her. Pain clawed at her heart. She had thought they were friends, at least.

She swung back to Lily, forcing a smile to her lips. “Are you hungry? Shall we have breakfast early? I’m sure the others are awake.”

***

S ANDERLY RETURNED FROM his ride, satisfied with his achievement. He breakfasted with several of the guests who did their best to civilly ignore him. Illsworth, sitting beside Alicia Eldridge smiled blandly at him as though to point out that if their duel was public, it was Illsworth who would have everyone’s support.

Well aware of it, Sanderly smiled back with as much of a sneer as he could muster. He was so damned tired of this. He wanted to be away from this life, these people. Even Harriet Cole. Especially Harriet Cole.

At least she was not present. He gathered she broke her fast with the children. Which would be considerably more enjoyable.

Bab entered the room with her usual bright good morning. But there were shadows of strain around her eyes. She was not sleeping well. James rose politely, as did the other gentlemen, but as she began choosing from the dishes on the sideboard, he excused himself with a bow and left the parlour.

Idiot . Sanderly finished his coffee and left in a more leisurely fashion. Only Grandison acknowledged his bow, though Wolf, encountered at the door, did cast him a distracted grin.

Sanderly discovered James alone in the library, an impressive room with an even more impressive collection of books.

“Ah, there you are,” Sanderly greeted him. “Avoiding your wife for the edification of the gossips?”

James flushed slightly. “I treat my wife with every courtesy.”

“I treat Illsworth with courtesy. What does that prove?”

“What do you want, Sanderly?” James said impatiently.

“I have discovered a suitable site for the duel, on a patch of common ground at the edge of the woodland, just beyond Grandison’s boundary. It does not appear to be in use, even for grazing. Here, I’ll show you.” He took the map he had purloined earlier from these shelves and spread it on the table beside James.

James grunted. “As good as anywhere. I have an appointment with Grandison later this morning to discuss the matter. Tomorrow at dawn, pistols, twenty paces. Damn it, I wish you’d let me kill him.”

Sanderly blinked. “Hitherto quite unsuspected thirst for blood,” he remarked. “We’ve discussed why it cannot be you.”

“Are you going to kill him?” James asked.

“Of course not. Which is why we are not choosing pistols but swords. First blood will be sufficient.”

James stared at him with surprise and just a little contempt. “ Swords ? Who the devil fights with swords in this day and age?”

“Soldiers,” Sanderly said gently.

James’s eyes widened, as though he had forgotten that Sanderly had ever been a soldier.

“Quite,” Sanderly said. “Be sure Grandison reminds Illsworth of the fact. Recall that I was once an excellent soldier and mentioned in dispatches for my victorious charge at Salamanca with—er... swords. I want him frightened.”

James no longer disguised his disgust. “You want him to withdraw.”

“I do. By keeping the duel between ourselves, we have made that easy for him. We will make acceptance of his apology dependent upon certain conditions, even a legally signed paper—I’m still mulling details—that will keep him out of Bab’s life.”

James curled his lip. “And yours.”

“Oh, well out of mine. I shan’t even be in the country.”

“Why don’t you go today and remove all risk to yourself?” James said with disdain.

“Dear James, I would if only I could rely on you not to make a mess of this as well as of my sister’s life.”

James sprang to his feet. “She chooses him over me at every opportunity! And if you recall, it was not I who was discovered in the arms of another!”

“Be grateful,” said Sanderly. “You, I probably would have killed. For sheer stupidity if for nothing else. Could you really not see that Bab was an unwilling captive?”

“Then how did she get into the situation in the first place?”

Sanderly contemplated him. “I suspect she was looking for something and misjudged. Again.”

“Looking for what?” James asked wearily.

“The same thing as you,” Sanderly said on impulse. He was rewarded by the faintest widening of his brother-in-law’s eyes, a tiny movement of one foot.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And if you did, you still wouldn’t tell so paltry a creature as me. I understand. Just scare Illsworth and bring me his apology. By the time you do, I shall have all the necessary conditions committed to paper for his signature before you and Grandison. And then, thank God, I can shake the dust of this benighted place from my gleaming Hoby boots.”

***

I LLSWORTH WAS CLEANING his duelling pistols and congratulating himself on his forethought in bringing them with him. They were gold-mounted and rather beautiful, a gift from his father on his twenty-first birthday, and he had been loath to sell them, although that was his intention. On his departure from Grand Court, he would call upon a collector who had offered him an excellent price.

Which he might not need to consider anymore. If he could secure Harriet Cole in marriage, he thought dreamily, his financial troubles would be over.

A knock at the door interrupted his self-satisfied musings. Hastily, he shoved the pistols, brush, cloth and oil, into the drawer of his desk.

“Enter.”

Sir John Grandison came in, brisk but frowning. In their uncomfortable interview last night, Grandison had left him in no doubt of his opinion of this duel, although he had at least agreed that Sanderly was unmanageable and at fault to goad him to such a degree. Neither of them had criticised Lady Bab.

Illsworth rose. “Ah, Sir John. Please, sit down. Have you news?”

“Yes, but you’re not going to like it.” Grandison sat down heavily in the nearer of the two arm chairs. “Sanderly has chosen swords.”

Illsworth felt his jaw drop and reclaimed it. “ Swords? ”

“Swords. Can you fence?”

“I had lessons at school. Fifteen years ago!”

“Sanderly’s sword experience is somewhat more recent, though rather more brutal than gentlemanly fencing. But the good news is, Sanderly is not opposed to receiving your apology. I’m sure we can word it so that—”

“I have no intention of apologizing to that misbegotten coward,” Illsworth interrupted.

Grandison held his gaze. “Why not? You were caught assaulting his sister.”

“It was no assault, Grandison. She threw herself at me. She’s an incorrigible flirt, and who can blame her with such a dull stick for a husband?”

“And yet you challenged Sanderly.”

“I told you: his insults were insupportable. Tha t is our quarrel, nothing to do with his sister. So the apology should come from him.”

“What do you want him to say?”

“I want him to withdraw every word he spoke to me yesterday afternoon.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

The idea of swords had panicked Illsworth just at first, because he had not thought of them, and Sanderly was a veteran of several battles before he lost his nerve. But it was unlikely that he had truly found that nerve again. These days, all his fighting was done with his damned nasty tongue. Apart from a spot of ungentlemanly strangling, Illsworth recalled indignantly, which had taken him by surprise. Besides, with any weapon, there were ways to win, especially in such a private affair as this one.

He might lose Bab, but his way would be clear to Harriet Cole’s fortune.

“Then I shall meet him,” Illsworth said dismissively. “I would like to do the world a favour and remove him from it, but—”

“First blood ends it,” Sir John snapped.

“As you command,” Illsworth said blandly. One chance was all he needed.

***

T HE AFTERNOON’S ENTERTAINMENT was boating upon the lake. But any hopes Harriet harboured of being rowed by Lord Sanderly were dashed at the outset by Lady Grandison’s greeting.

“Ah, Harriet! You look pretty. I’ve put you with Lord Illsworth today.”

This was not good news, for she did not like the man, but she could do nothing but smile and accept his lordship’s arm. By chance, she glanced at Sir John and caught an expression on his face of pure exasperation.

With perfect courtesy, Illsworth escorted her to their assigned boat, jumped nimbly in and reached up to help her.

The lake looked very pretty with all these small, brightly painted boats dotted about the water. The plan was to laze around the lake for a little and then race from one end of the lake to the other. Harriet could see Sanderly in the distance, He seemed to be doing more floating than rowing. Was the lady with him more to his taste than she was? He had clearly moved on from Mrs. Eldridge, although perhaps she had moved on from him, influenced by the general ill-feeling toward him. Was he hurt?

She doubted his heart had been involved in the first place. He had not looked at her... so . Not the way he had looked at Harriet.

Oh, who are you fooling? she lashed herself. He does not want you, you were entirely mistaken.

And yet, I want him still. Have I no pride?

“ That is where I saw you before,” Illsworth said suddenly, causing her to blink at him in surprise. Up until now he had made gentle, unthreatening conversation that required little response.

“In a boat?” she said, trailing her fingers through the water. “I don’t believe I have ever been in one before. It is rather pleasant.”

“It is,” he agreed, “but no, it wasn’t in a boat I saw you.”

She raised her eyebrows, trying to appear merely curious, even though her heart beat with sudden dread that he was about to ruin her reputation with three words: Duck and Spoon .

“A posting inn,” he said, smiling. “But which one?”

“I cannot imagine.”

“It will come to me.”

It had come to him already. He knew. Something about his manner reminded her of a cat playing with a mouse. She tried to control the surge of panic, of sheer embarrassment.

“No doubt.” She allowed a hint of boredom into her voice and gazed up at the clouds which had grown thicker and darker than the last time she looked. “Do you know, I think we shall be caught in the rain.”

“Then let us row to the starting point and hope we can beat the rain as well as our opponents.”

To her alarm, he began to row rather more strongly, sweeping past the other boats, pulling further away from them and the watchers on the bank, heading for the starting point at the other end of the lake.

Warily, she kept her gaze on his face. They were still within sight of everyone else, but she could not help her feeling of threat. Trapped in a boat with him, in a dreadful kind of privacy, what kind of insult would she face?

As if noticing her fixed gaze, he smiled. “Is everything well, Miss Cole?”

“Perfectly,” she replied. “I hope you have not used all your strength getting to this point or we shall struggle in the race.”

“Just practising, I assure you. And now I have the best starting position, I can rest while the others tire themselves catching up. Did I tell you how delightful you look this afternoon? I believe that is why I took so long to recognize you.”

“I did not look delightful when you think you last saw me?”

Illsworth considered. “Yes, you did. In a frumpy, ragged kind of way one does not associate at all with Lady Grandison’s connections.”

Harriet laughed, gazing longingly at the other boats, most of which were now working their way up toward them. In the lead, she recognized Sanderly’s dark head and felt better, even though he did not appear to be exerting himself.

She said, “Have you considered that it was not me at all?”

“I always consider everything, Miss Cole. Are you involved in this evening’s dramatics?”

Their entertainment tonight was to be a play performed by a group of guests who had been practising all week.

She shook her head. “No, it is the guests who arrived first who are involved, I believe. But I shall enjoy watching.”

“Perhaps you would care to enjoy it with me?”

There was little she would care for less, but to snub him would be rude. Besides, pride would not allow her to let him think he had rattled her. “How kind.”

“Not remotely. I suspect your company will be all that makes the evening bearable, though I beg you will not tell our amateur thespians I said so.”

“I would not dream of it,” she assured him. She could not work out if he was flirting with her or threatening her in some subtle way she could not grasp. His change of subject confused her and there was a sort of softened yet greedy look in his eyes that she did not like.

Was it possible that he too was courting her for her imaginary fortune? Even while pursuing Lady Bab? Though it was possible Bab’s husband and brother had put a stop to that during their private chat yesterday afternoon.

Either way, the idea made her uneasy, if not downright queasy. If he was courting her, why hint at the Duck and Spoon? To show he did not care?

A spot of rain landed on her upturned face. She realized the sky had darkened even more, and as far as the eye could see. The heavens were surely about to open, and the deluge had never been more welcome.

“Hurry!” someone called from the approaching boats. “We’re about to get soaked!”

“We’ll manage the race if we start in the next couple of minutes,” Illsworth said.

Lady Grandison, bustling up to the starting point, waved everyone hurriedly into place and dropped her handkerchief. Illsworth pulled hard on the oars and their boat surged ahead while rain began to patter on Harriet’s newly borrowed hat.

Some squeals of protest came from ladies in other boats. Footmen hurried along the near bank of the lake with umbrellas for the watchers. But the race quickly disintegrated in the downpour which soaked rowers and passengers and threatened to fill up the boats.

“Sadly, I must give up being your champion this afternoon,” Illsworth said as Lord Sanderly’s boat cut across their path, making with all haste for the bank. Sanderly’s passenger was the quiet debutante who was covering her head with her arms, as though that could possibly make her less wet. Neither of them glanced at Harriet or Illsworth.

Harriet nodded. She had rarely been so relieved, and she was more than happy to get soaked to avoid the rest of her time with Illsworth.

The outdoor servants, armed with long-handled boat hooks, were helping drag boats faster into the shore and hand out the intrepid sailors, all of whom hared off immediately in the direction of the house.

“Quite a show for a seafaring nation,” murmured Sanderly’s amused voice behind Harriet as she stumbled ashore with a servant’s aid. She glanced around eagerly, but of course, he was not talking to her but to the quiet debutante whom he sheltered with his coat. “Nelson would be proud.”

He did not look at her. Illsworth’s arm swept her forward toward the house. He snatched an umbrella from a hurrying footman and threw it up. Harriet kept a smile on her face because the dash in the rain should have been fun. It would have been fun, had she been with Sanderly, who now would not look at her.

“Tea in the drawing room in twenty minutes!” Lady Grandison called to all. “So hurry and change into dry clothes! The fires will be lit to warm you...”

Harriet fled.

She found Lily waking up after yet another nap. She was dressed, though lying on her bed with the coverlet over her.

“Goodness, is it raining?”

“No, I jumped in the lake.”

Lily giggled, a welcome sound. “You look as if you did. You’d better get out of those things or you’ll catch cold. Let me help...”

“You will help by sitting up and putting that shawl around you. Ugh, I am soaked quite to the skin.”

She had only just dressed in yet another different gown and was hanging up the wet things to dry as best they could, when the children all but burst into the room. Mildred was with them, looking harassed.

“It was him!” Orchid was all but yelling as she stamped in. “I saw him! Harriet, we can’t stay here any longer.”

“Oh dear, why not?” Harriet asked calmly, well-used to her smallest sister’s ways.

“Because Cousin Randolph has found us!”