Marchington Scandal (19 page)

Katharine sat up straighter and dried her eyes. She couldn't, not in the way she had said. It was impossible now for her to speak to Stonenden or to ask anything whatsoever of him. She would have to find another way of aiding her cousin, one which did not involve these things. She sat back in the seat to try to think.

By the time she reached home, Katharine had a plan. She went directly to her writing desk and dashed off a note, then sat down in the drawing room to await results. Mary was out, and she spent a restless hour before the bell was finally heard to ring below and the maid ushered in a guest.

“Hello, Tony,” said Katharine then. “Thank you for coming so promptly. Sit down.”

He did so. “What's happened? You sound grim. Is something wrong? Something new, that is?”

“No, nothing new. But I need some information from you.”

Tony grinned, though his eyes remained wary. “Oh, information. I'm full of that.”

“I want to know when and where this ridiculous duel is to take place.” Knowing her request to be unconventional, Katharine fixed him with an unwavering gaze.

Tony frowned. “Why should you want to know that?”

“Never mind why. Just tell me, Tony.”

He shrugged. “I'm not involved, you know. That sort of thing is settled by the seconds.”

“Yes, but you know every secret in London. Stop being evasive, and tell me.”

He looked at her. “What do you mean to do?”

“You needn't be concerned about that.”

“I dashed well am concerned. I shall feel responsible if I tell you and then you get into some scrape.”

“So you do know!”

Tony looked vexed.

“Tell me,” repeated Katharine. “It is very important.”

“You must say what you are going to do, first.”

“No. Come, Tony, I am not a schoolgirl. I don't indulge in distempered freaks. You can trust me with this terrible secret.”

He grinned in earnest this time. “Yes, that's what you think, but in your calm way you do far more unconventional things than any hoyden.” Under her answering glare, he capitulated. “Oh, very well, I suppose it can't do any real harm. They are to meet tomorrow morning, out on the Heath.”

“What time, precisely, and where?”

“Katharine—”

“Tony, I am asking your help in this small thing, and nothing more. I could find out what I want to know elsewhere, but it is far easier and pleasanter to ask you.”

He acknowledged the truth of this with a sigh. “All right. At six. And I can direct you to the place, if you must know it.”

“Thank you.”

“But what
are
you planning, Katharine? I don't like the look in your eye.”

“I shan't say. Then you can honestly claim that you haven't any idea, if anyone should ask you.”

Tony groaned. “I can't decide whether I am glad of that, or sorry. I expect I shall be sorry before long.”

“Nonsense. Now, tell me how to reach the place.”

Reluctantly he did so, in the end sketching a map for her to use. With that in hand, she dismissed him and went up to her bedchamber to write a reassuring note to Elinor. Then she put on her bonnet once more and went out to make an unusual call. She returned home in time for luncheon, looking well satisfied, and afterward retired to her studio for the entire afternoon.

***

The next morning, Katharine was up very early, dressed for riding. She had warned the stable that she meant to take out her mare first thing, and the horse was saddled and waiting when she came out, one of the grooms prepared to accompany her. They rode through the empty morning streets in the direction of Hampstead Heath. Katharine quickened the pace once they were away from the house, then suddenly paused at a corner some distance along the way. The groom looked puzzled, but being well trained, he said nothing.

In a short space, another rider appeared, a husky commercial-looking gentleman mounted on a brown hack. He raised his hat to Katharine, who greeted him briefly, and they continued on together, the groom looking more and more confused.

They reached the edge of the Heath as the sun was rising a few minutes before six. Katharine urged her mare to a canter and led the way along the road, up a lane, and finally off onto a track that looked as if it had seen little traffic lately. Here she slowed and motioned for silence.

They soon came to a small copse, and Katharine dismounted, leading her horse toward a tree where several others were already tied. Indicating that the groom should hold their mounts, she urged her other companion on with a gesture and began to walk swiftly around the trees to the clearing that could be just glimpsed beyond. Voices could be heard in that direction.

They emerged to find a curious scene. In the cool dawn light Tom Marchington stood with his coat buttoned up to his chin. He was facing them, but it was clear that he noticed nothing but Lord Stonenden, who stood with his back to Katharine not far away.

Three other men clustered on the left, their eyes on the two combatants. One of them was holding a handkerchief at arm's length. Katharine surged forward, but before she could voice the cry in her throat, the handkerchief dropped and two shots rang out. Smoke from the pistols floated in the cool air, but not so as to obscure Katharine's view. She had seen Lord Stonenden fire straight upward, and she had seen Tom aim directly at the other man and, appallingly, hit him!

“No!” she shouted, completing her cry and her step at the same time. “Tom, you fool!”

All of the men whirled to stare at her, but Katharine could think only of Stonenden. He had fallen to his knees at Tom's shot, and he remained there, holding his left forearm against his chest. Katharine ran to kneel beside him. “Are you all right? Where are you hit?” In her concern, she put both hands on his upper arm.

Stonenden looked bemused. “What are you doing here?” A trickle of blood began to drip slowly from the lower edge of his coat sleeve.

“That doesn't matter. How badly are you hurt?” She started to turn back the sleeve.

“Here, here, let me,” said someone behind her. “I am a doctor. Let me look.”

“It's nothing,” murmured Stonenden. “A scratch. The bullet grazed my forearm.”

“I'll be the judge of that.” The doctor knelt beside him as Katharine moved out of the way. He slit the sleeve and exposed a nasty deep scratch along Stonenden's forearm. “Hah,” he said. “Not too bad. But why you gentlemen must stand up and shoot one another, I shall never understand. Pure madness.” He opened his bag and began to work on the wound.

Somewhat reassured, Katharine turned on Tom. He stood in the same spot, the pistol dangling from his limp hand. He looked dazed and frightened. “You idiot!” exclaimed Katharine, marching up to him and pulling the gun away. “You might have killed him. Have you lost all common sense? Have you indeed gone mad? You
shot
a man, and for what?”

Tom blinked several times and seemed to focus on her finally. “Wh-what are you doing here?” He looked around nervously. “Elinor's not here, is she?”

“Of course she is not. Do you think me as stupid as you? She knows nothing about it. I came here for her, to try to stop you. Unfortunately, I was too late. Oh, I am so angry I don't know what to say to you. How
could
you, Tom? How could you?”

“Do you want me to fetch a constable?” The man who had accompanied Katharine had approached, and it was he who spoke. “We can have him up on charges in a trice,” he added.

Katharine sighed angrily. “I wish we might. But Elinor would never forgive me. You go scot-free, Tom. But you don't deserve it!”

“He fired in the air,” murmured Tom, still seemingly amazed by this fact. “He didn't even try to hit me.”

“Of course he did not! Lord Stonenden is a sensible man. You could force a quarrel on him, but you could not make him a fool like yourself.”

This statement appeared to affect Tom powerfully, but whether for the good or bad, Katharine wasn't sure. He started as she spoke, looked around the clearing, then began to scowl.

The doctor had finished wrapping Stonenden's arm by this time, and the latter had risen to his feet. The whole group congregated ground Tom and Katharine, and one of the seconds said, “We are quits, then. We declare ourselves satisfied.”

“Do we?” growled Tom.

“Yes, we do, Marchington. Or if you do not, I wash my hands of you. And you won't find anyone else to second you again, either.”

Tom glowered at the ground.

“Come along,” continued the other. “Let us go back to town and forget this ridiculous quarrel.”

Tom seemed about to speak, but his second took his arm and forcibly propelled him toward where the horses were waiting. As they departed, the other second said, “I'll go fetch a carriage, Oliver. You can't ride with that arm.”

“Nonsense, of course I can. I was only stunned for a moment. I am perfectly all right now.”

“I would recommend a vehicle,” put in the doctor. “The wound is slight, but—”

“I'll get one straightaway,” replied the other, and he hurried off.

“I would also recommend that you sit down,” the doctor went on.

“Oh, take yourself off,” snapped his patient. “I shan't sit in this wet grass, if that is what you mean, and I am perfectly recovered. You may go in good conscience.”

The man looked offended. “I shall certainly not leave until you have been conveyed safely home. I shall wait with the horses.”

“Do so,” retorted Stonenden.

The doctor walked away, and Lord Stonenden turned eagerly to Katharine, but his words and manner in the previous moments had brought back all her anger and outrage of the morning, and her face was stony. “I must go,” she said.

He looked surprised. “At once?”

“Yes. I came only to stop this preposterous duel. I failed, and now I must go and inform Elinor that her doltish husband is unscathed.”

“And what of me?” replied Stonenden.

Katharine looked up at him quickly, then dropped her eyes again. “I thank you, of course, for firing in the air. On behalf of my family.”

“You can't have thought I would do anything else. I met that young idiot only to teach him a lesson. I also failed, of course. He is remarkably hardheaded.” His eyebrows came together. “In fact, why these alarms and excursions? Don't you think you might have left this affair to me?”

Realizing that she should have, but still very angry at him, Katharine tossed her head. “How was I to know that you would be magnanimous? You so rarely are. And besides, Tom might have actually killed you.”

“I see. And you came to be sure that he got out of the country having done so, I suppose. Is that this gentleman's function?” He nodded at Katharine's companion, who was still standing nearby. The man tipped his hat and smiled ingratiatingly.

“No, of course not,” snapped Katharine. “Mr. Rule is a private inquiry agent my father once mentioned to me. I brought him along in case I wanted to report to the authorities. Or to help me get Tom to come away, if he wouldn't.”

Stonenden almost smiled. “Ah. And why did you not simply blow the whistle on us at once?”

Katharine looked icily up at him. “I am not such a cawker. I did not wish to have anyone arrested, but if that was the only way to stop you…”

He nodded. “Well, I admit I am glad it did not come to that. It would be humiliating to stand before a magistrate at my age and admit this silliness.”

“You call a duel silliness?” She glared at him.

“Call it what you like. I don't seem to be able to find any phrase that pleases you.”

Suddenly breathless at the pained understanding in his eyes, Katharine turned away. “I must go back. If you will excuse me…”

“I appear to have no choice.”

She glanced quickly over her shoulder, then strode away. Her feelings were in such turmoil that she could not continue to talk with him. She still felt anger, but it was now confusingly mingled with a great many other emotions, the foremost of which was admiration. He had behaved splendidly this morning; she could not but be conscious of that. And he had received nothing but a gunshot wound for his trouble. Yet he remained self-possessed and kind. His sharp words to the doctor she discounted; she hated to be fussed over herself. Indeed, as she had stood looking up at him, she had been suddenly possessed of a strong desire to walk into his arms and be held, forgetting all the confusions and misunderstandings of the last few days.

But with these feelings had come a vision of the Countess Standen as she had seen her yesterday, coming out of Stonenden's house in the early morning. And this picture destroyed the others. Perhaps Stonenden had changed; perhaps he was now a much more admirable man than he had been five years ago. But this had nothing to do with her. He might be kind to her and respect her talent, but his love went elsewhere.

With this thought, Katharine felt such a surge of misery that she almost stumbled. And in that moment, she knew that she had not been facing the truth about her emotions.

She loved Oliver Stonenden, despite the countess, despite everything. She had loved him for quite a time now. The feeling had been building without her conscious knowledge, during their pleasant hours in her studio, and now it was too powerful to be denied. Yet there was no hope in the world for it.

Reaching her horse, Katharine quickly mounted, and she was off down the lane almost before her groom could follow. In her turmoil, she was grateful for the loneliness of the Heath. She urged her mare to a wild gallop in an effort to wipe all thought from her mind.

She did not succeed. Her Cousin Mary's expression when she walked into the drawing room was enough to tell Katharine that. But Elinor Marchington was also there—she had called to be reassured yet again about Tom—so there was no chance for private conversation.

“Oh, Katharine, Tom went out before dawn this morning,” said Elinor as soon as she saw her cousin. “I am so frightened. It must be—”

“Tom is all right,” replied Katharine wearily. “The duel was this morning. I saw it. Tom went away unhurt.”

“You saw it?” gasped the younger girl.