Dancing With A Devil (24 page)

She waited for a moment to speak, assuming Lord Thortonberry would excuse himself and take the path that led from their house to his, but when it became clear he intended to stay, she slipped her arm through her brother’s. She chose her words with care, so as not to alert him that she knew Trent had deloped. “Tell me what happened. I hope Lord Davenport is not too wounded.”

Richard met her question with silence. Uneasy, she shifted and studied her brother. His wild gaze, nothing like a man who had put part of his troubles behind him, caused icy tendrils of fear to race across her skin and made her shiver. “What have you done, Richard?” The question was a shaky whisper.

Richard wrenched away from her, ignoring her completely. He wheeled toward Lord Thortonberry. “See how accusing her tone sounds,” he bellowed. He waved a hand at Thortonberry. “Tell her how Davenport mocked me.”

She met Lord Thortonberry’s gaze. When he lifted his head upward, it appeared as if he might be agreeing, but then he gave the slightest shake of his head, his lips pursing in the strangest way, as if he had been reluctant to tell her. Probably he did not want her to know her brother had done something dishonorable. Her stomach twisted. “Richard,” she said in a low, patient tone, though desperation nearly choked her. “You must tell me what happened.”

“
You cannot command me.” Richard bit out each word.

Audrey barely stopped herself from screaming. She took a ragged breath and swung her gaze to Lord Thortonberry. “I am begging you to tell me. All of it. Honestly.”

Lord Thortonberry narrowed his gaze, then dipped his head to her. “He shot Davenport
after
the duel was over and had been called.”

Stunned and sickened, she repeated the information, certain she must have heard incorrectly “Richard shot Lord Davenport?”

“
Yes. In the arm. Davenport deloped.” Lord Thortonberry’s words displayed nary a hint of emotion.

“
Get off my property,” Richard shouted, charging at his oldest and dearest friend.

“
Stop it,” Audrey shrieked, instinctually lunging for and wrapping both her hands around her brother’s arm. Richard dragged her across the grass for a moment before he seemed to realize what he was doing.

He stopped, panting where he stood, and glanced down at her, his eyes glazed and blazing. Slowly, he pried her fingers away from his arm. “I’m quite collected now. You’ve no need to worry.”

She nodded, though uncertainty filled her.

Her brother breathed deeply before speaking. “Davenport mocked me, I tell you, and therefore showed me your honor meant nothing to him.”

She shook her head, tears sliding down her face. “No, Richard, he wasn’t mocking you.” Lord Thortonberry raised a questioning eyebrow at her, as if he agreed with Richard. She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I asked Lord Davenport to delope.” No need to go into the exact details of how she’d asked him. Let Richard think she’d sent a note. “I was worried for your safety. I―” Richard scowled at her. She stepped back, putting more than an arm’s length between them. She didn’t want to further wound Richard’s pride, but he had to know he was wrong about Trent. The hatred burning in his eyes worried her. Swallowing, she forced herself to continue. “I was concerned if the duel went forward as planned. I―” She gulped. “Everyone says what an excellent shot Lord Davenport is.”

“
And you think me incapable?” Richard bellowed.

“
No.” But that was partially a lie. Probably, Richard could be a rather good shot
if
he would quit drinking and practice but that was likely never going to happen.

Richard advanced toward her, but Lord Thortonberry stepped in front of her and blocked him. “Bridgeport, you need to calm down.”

Richard’s face mottled red. “You think to tell me what to do, standing on my property? Why did you move in front of my sister? She needs no protection from me.” Richard’s voice was so loud Audrey had the urge to press her hands against her ears.

“
Are you certain?” Lord Thortonberry’s hard, doubt-filled tone made Audrey cringe. Though she appreciated his concern, his tactics were sure to further anger Richard.

Richard pointed to the stone path that they had taken a thousand times over the years to go from their home to Lord Thortonberry’s. “Leave. You are no longer welcome here.”

“
Richard!” Horror filled Audrey. “You do not mean that.”

“
I do. Now go, Thortonberry.”

Lord Thortonberry glanced at her with raised brows. She nodded. Presently, the best thing to do was comply, until Richard calmed himself. Tomorrow, surely, his temper would abate and he could apologize to Lord Thortonberry. Without a word, Lord Thortonberry turned on his heel, his boots clicking against the stones they struck as he walked. She watched as he disappeared around down the brushy, bush-lined path. He seemed to be swallowed into the overhanging vines from the looming trees. Once she no longer heard his footsteps, she turned to Richard.

Pain twisted his features. He eyed her. “You have ruined your chances of marriage with Mr. Shelton and everyone else who ever asked you. Now, you seem not to care that Lord Davenport refuses to marry you. You’re selfish,” he hissed. “We need money. Clearly more desperately than you comprehend. What shall we do now?” Richard threw his hands up in the air. “You are in mourning now! How will we go about quickly finding you a husband?”

Stunned at his tirade, it took her a moment to think what to say or ask. “How desperate is our financial situation? I tried asking Father several times, but he turned me away every time I asked.”

“
We’re penniless,” Richard said tonelessly. “At first Father was trying to marry you off, so he’d have one less mouth to feed, but then he concocted the idea to sell you to the highest bidder, or the first.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, shoved away the pain and invited numbness. It started in her toes, spread like an uncontrolled fire up her legs, across her belly, climbed toward her chest and settled in her mind. There. That was much better. She felt as if she stood apart from herself and looked at a woman she did not know. She was an observer, for the moment, in her own life. “Was Mr. Shelton the first bidder, or the highest?”

“
The first. All you had to do was cooperate and we could have been saved but you ruined everything with your lusting after Davenport.”

She supposed in a way that was true. Another question formed in her mind. “What happened to Father’s money?”

Richard shrugged. “What didn’t happen? Bad investments. Gambling. Drinking.”

She couldn’t help but glare at Richard, suspecting he had a part in their demise.

He narrowed his eyes. “It was not only me. Father gambled and drank long before me. Where do you think I learned my behavior from?”

“
I don’t know,” she whispered. Reality crashed back over her and made the numbness fade away. Her head pounded so harshly it was making thinking hard. “Is that everything?”

“
Is not that enough?” His words dripped sarcasm. “The rest can wait for another day.”

“
The rest?” Good, gracious. There was more? She clutched at her roiling stomach.

Richard snorted. “I’m tired and I’m done talking.” With that pronouncement, he stomped down the drive, up the steps and into the house with a bang.

She stood on the drive, unmoving. A soft breeze blew the scent of roses around her and the sun beamed down over her head. Normally, she would have considered this a glorious day, simply because of the weather. She pressed her hands to her face and tried to think what to do first. How could she help her brother and herself?

“
Audrey.”

Lord Thortonberry’s soft tone directly behind her made her entire body tense. She whirled to face him. “I thought you had left,” she murmured. Something about the way his eyes appeared hooded bothered her. He blinked, as if reading her thoughts, and smiled. Perhaps she was being too touchy because of her strained nerves.

“
I waited at the end of the path until I saw your brother go in. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“
Yes, yes. I’m fine.”

“
How can I help?”

“
Tell me how Lord Davenport is,” she blurted, wishing, as she saw the widening and then narrowing of Lord Thortonberry’s eyes, that she had found a more subtle way of asking the question.

“
The doctor said it’s too early to tell. The biggest concern is infection. If that doesn’t kill Davenport in the next few days, then he has a good chance of living. The bullet lodged itself in his upper arm, but the doctor felt certain he could get it all out.” He sounded detached and hurt as he spoke, but that was surely wrong. What did Lord Thortonberry have to be hurt about?

“
I see,” she managed to choke out before turning swiftly away. She’d rather he did not see the stark fear surely displayed on her face. Panic rioted within her and threatened to steal her self-control. No matter how Trent had hurt her, she had to see him, but now, more so than before, Richard would not allow it. Even if there wasn’t her brother to consider, it wasn’t as if she could appear unannounced as she’d done last night. No doubt Trent’s family was there tending to him. Maybe she could get a note to Whitney and find out what was happening? Perhaps Whitney could help her? They’d always been there for each other in the past.

Behind her, Lord Thortonberry cleared his throat.

“
Are you very distraught for Lord Davenport?”

She made herself turn to face him and forced a scoff between her cold lips. “I’m no more distraught for him than I’d be for anyone possibly on death’s door. Do not mistake my feelings. I decided after the theater that we would not suit.”

It occurred to her that Richard might have told Lord Thortonberry about Father finding her on the terrace kissing Trent. She held her breath and waited for what he would say.

“
That’s good.” He smiled. “I didn’t believe for one minute you’d fall under the spell of a man like Lord Davenport.”

She pressed her fingertips to her aching head. “A man like Lord Davenport?”

“
Well, yes.” He shrugged. “I do not care for gossip, but perhaps you should know some people say he is a rather frequent visitor of the more notorious hellfire clubs.”

Her heart flipped in her chest. From her time spent scheming with Whitney, she had inadvertently learned many secrets about Trent, so she had known he had been a visitor of the clubs, but she had assumed he had stopped frequenting them. She bit her lip hard. More truthfully, she had assumed he had stopped visiting them, because he was enamored of her. A new well of hurt trickled within her.

“
I see. Well, it’s a good thing I no longer desire his attention, then.” Had her voice wobbled? She thought it had, but she had done the best she could. She shoved her hurt aside. No matter what Trent had or had not done, if he was dying, she had to see him. The fact was even though he had wounded her so that she felt the ache of the pain with every breath she took, she couldn’t instantly make the love she had for him go away. Pressing her lips together as she’d often seen the matrons at the balls do, she sighed and then said, “I really have to go in and start preparing the house and myself for the mourning period.” That was the nicest way she could think to tell him, without actually saying it aloud, to go home.

He nodded. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you out and about once your mourning period is over.”

“
Yes, of course,” she mumbled, her mind on how she was going to see Trent and not on Lord Thortonberry at all.

Trent awoke with a start to candles flickering in the darkness. He attempted to sit up and intense pain shot through his right arm. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut and fell back to the bed. The creaking of an opening door filled the room, followed by shoes tapping against the wood.

“
Pickering, I need a drink.”

Two sighs floated in the silence, trailed by a definite feminine tsk. The maid perhaps? His damp sheets did need changing. Still, he was in no mood to oblige anyone right now. “Go away and come back when I call for you,” he growled.

“
We’ll not,” came his cousin Whitney’s reply.
Damnation.
He opened his eyes and his two nosy, albeit well-meaning, cousins were walking toward him.

He gave Gillian a wink to let her know in no uncertain terms that she could quit worrying he was going to die, which clearly she had been doing since her face was drawn tight. Then he cocked an eyebrow at Whitney, who looked amused rather than concerned. He tugged the dangerously low sheets up over his naked torso. He’d rather not shock his cousins any more than he’d likely already done. They could only be pushed so far before they’d go running to his mother and then there’d be the devil to pay. “Either I’m dead or in hell.”