The Scandalous Duke Takes a Bride (36 page)

Once Tristan picked his pistol Hayden loaded the little round ball that he knew would be lost in the field behind them. Tristan insisted on leaving his wife’s father unharmed. Though he could not be sure the old man would have the same reticence toward Tristan.

“We’ve agreed on first blood, not death,” Hayden reminded everyone present.

All nodded, including Warren, which seemed to catch Tristan’s attention. “Why are you even here, Warren? You don’t honestly expect me to believe you of all people have been wronged where Ponsley’s daughter is concerned.”

“My business is my own.” Warren seemed unimpressed by the whole situation.

“If it’s your own, then why do you stand here for his honor?” Hayden knew Tristan was only talking because he was stalling.

“She was to be
my
wife,” Warren said firmly.

“You don’t deserve her.”

When Warren stepped forward as though he’d charge toward Tristan, Hayden moved closer, grabbing his arm and wishing he could do more harm, like plant his fist in Warren’s face. “Stand aside and mete this out as was predetermined.”

Warren relented; pulling away from Hayden, he walked back to Ponsley’s side. To Hayden’s surprise, Warren’s gaze was on Tristan, not Hayden, as he handed the loaded pistol over to Ponsley.

“This is a bloody joke,” Tristan whispered for Hayden alone.

“Just see it to the end and all will be fine.” Hayden prayed again that Ponsley was only here to save face and honor, not to do lasting damage to Tristan. How Hayden would hold back if the latter came true was anyone’s guess.

“Let’s finish this, then. I can’t stand the buildup,” said Tristan.

Hayden looked at Ponsley. “Are you ready?”

Ponsley nodded.

Both gentlemen put their backs together. They were discussing something, but Hayden couldn’t hear their words, so he assumed Tristan was doing whatever he could to delay what was about to happen. They eventually took their steps to distance themselves evenly apart.

Tristan turned to Hayden before he faced the dueling field to ask, “First blood. So if he hits me we’re done here?”

Hayden nodded. “But you will have to take aim and shoot at the same time.”

“Bloody hell,” Tristan said as he turned with the pistol held out. Ponsley was in much the same position, only his hand was a lot steadier.

“Hayden, if I should perhaps be maimed beyond saving…”

“Don’t even think it,” Hayden said, looking past the field and toward the shifting fog around them. “I hear riders; this needs to be finished or we’ll be discovered.”

“We’re on my land.”

“The women?” Hayden asked.

“Shit,” Tristan cursed before calling out to his opponent, “Are you ready, Ponsley?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Hayden stepped away from Tristan and took up his post next to the doctor. Whoever the riders were, and Hayden assumed them to be two very angry women, they were fast approaching. The reports of the pistols were deafening when the shots finally rang out. Hayden watched his friend fall to a kneeling position on the ground.

“Damn that bastard,” Tristan muttered, dropping the pistol before slumping further.

As Hayden moved into action with the doctor one step behind, everything became a flurry of activity: Lady Castleigh came into the clearing, jumping from her still-moving horse to hurry to her husband’s side, Bea not far behind. Warren stepped forward to assist Tristan or pull the women back—Hayden couldn’t tell which.

Please, God, let him not be seriously injured.

As he approached his friend he heard him muttering something. Tristan was talking as he caressed his wife’s face just before he collapsed, taking them both right down to the ground.

“Tristan!” Her shout was hysterical as she tried to shake her husband back to wakefulness. When that didn’t work she tried to pull at his clothes, looking for the wound that had struck him down. She was talking to Tristan, but he did not respond. Turning to Hayden, tears awash in her eyes and running down her face, she said hoarsely, “Help me!”

Bea knelt beside them. “Here, let me help.” Yanking the frock coat from her brother, she freed his arms. When they saw no wound there, Bea turned to Hayden. “Can you see where he’s injured?”

Hayden’s worst suspicion came true when a stain of red grew alarmingly fast over Tristan’s side. Charlotte ripped his shirt open to spread the material. That was when the doctor stepped in, pressing a white towel hard against Tristan’s side to sop up the blood before pulling it away to prod at the raw wound to see how deep the bullet went.

“It’s no more than a grazing,” the doctor announced to everyone’s relief. “Bullet only skidded across his ribs.”

The doctor continued to press the cloth to Tristan’s side, giving Lady Castleigh direction to hold it there as he opened his case.

“Why isn’t he awake?” Charlotte asked.

“Could be the shock,” the doctor said, taking out long strips of linen to tie around Tristan and hold the cloth in place to staunch the flow of blood.

“The blood,” Bea said, pulling Charlotte to her feet to give the doctor room to work on Tristan. “Let the doctor look him over. We’ll be back at the house soon enough—you can fuss over him there.”

Hayden turned to the doctor to ask if he needed his assistance, but the doctor had it under control as he placed a wooden stethoscope against Tristan’s heart and stuck his ear on the other end.

“I’ll leave you with Castleigh while I send off the opponents.” The doctor nodded.

Approaching Warren and Ponsley, Hayden said, “You’re not invited on this land a moment longer. I expect you’ll be on your way now.”

Warren’s expression of concern looked as though it weighed his brow down. “He’ll fare well?”

Was that actual concern Hayden heard in Warren’s voice? “He’ll be better off if he doesn’t see you when he’s conscious again.”

“I’d like to talk to the doctor to ensure he’s fit as a fiddle before we are off.” Warren stood taller, trying to intimidate Hayden, but that would not work.

“Leave, Warren. You’re nothing but an outsider here.” He hoped the words wounded the man deeply, for Hayden knew he was speaking on behalf of Bea, too, who had a long history with the weasel standing before him.

Before he could insist again, Lady Castleigh charged right past him and toward her father like a raging bull.

“What did you think to accomplish?” Hayden cringed at the harshness of her tone.

“You don’t belong on the field of a duel,” Warren responded.

Charlotte turned on Warren, finger pointed threateningly at him. “You will never tell me what to do. Your worth as a decent man was called into question with this little charade.”

Warren didn’t seem bothered by the insult, as he crossed his arms over his chest and said, “I was not the one to call out your
husband.
”

“She’s right, Adrian.” Bea came forward, her anger just as palatable as Charlotte’s. “You have no honor, so you could never have called a challenge to begin with. Yet, here you stand as though to prove something.”

“I ought to put you in your place, Beatrice.” Warren’s focus was solely on Bea. “You’ve no right to talk to me as you are. There are things I know.”

“And you’ve no right to step foot on my property without a proper invite. You can hurl as many insults my way as you wish. They no longer have the gravity they once did, because I know you. I know the
real
you. And you’d do well to hide yourself away from the truth of your vile nature, lest the world find out what sort of man you really are. Leave,” Bea’s demand brooked no argument and Warren backed off, hands in the air, in surrender to her wishes.

Charlotte reached for Hayden’s arm. “Your Grace, will you help my husband into the carriage?”

“Of course.” Hayden left Lady Castleigh to discuss private matters with her father. Tristan was bandaged up enough for the ride back to the house. Hayden lifted his friend’s limp arm over his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. Tristan wasn’t quite lucid, and his head bobbed to the side as he tried to walk where Hayden took him. They eventually made it to the carriage. The doctor rode back to Hailey Court with Lady Castleigh in the carriage. Hayden rode back to the house with Bea in near silence the majority of the way. They had each tied off extra horses to their saddles.

“How did you know we had left so early this morning?” He had to know how they’d even been found.

Bea gave him an all-knowing look. “I like to think I know my brother better than everyone else. He was acting oddly last night at dinner. So I knew something would come of today.”

“You’ll never cease to amaze me, Bea. I’m sorry you had to bear witness to what transpired at all.”

“The only thing you should be sorry for is not telling us when you’d duel. And seriously, why would you let my brother choose pistols? He’s got the worst aim of any gentleman I know.”

“Because he refused to have any advantage over Ponsley.”

“Bloody honor and men,” Bea muttered.

“He’ll be fine, Bea. I trust the doctor to make your brother as good as new.”

“He had better, or I’ll have his head right after I take yours for sheer stupidity.” Bea clucked her tongue to spur her horse to a trot, leaving him behind and to his own thoughts.

After Tristan was settled and he knew his friend was on the mend, he had every intention of riding back out to his estate and, more important, to Jessica. She’d insist on seeing Tristan straightaway, and he had no intention of keeping her in the dark on his condition. While the bullet had only grazed him, Tristan still faced the risk of infection from the wound. He clucked his tongue to encourage his horse to a faster pace. Gusto complied and trotted on the heels of Bea’s horse the rest of the way to Hailey Court. Hayden was desperate to see his friend well and in good hands so he could head back to Jessica.

Chapter 24

On second thought, could it be that the duke has taken the dowager countess to his estate so as to not tie himself to a woman of her reputation indefinitely? Perhaps his purpose is merely to make a mistress of her. A justifiable ending to her reign in society if I do say so myself.
Mayfair Chronicles,
September 1846 Jessica awoke with Hayden’s warmth sliding into bed next to her. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he pulled her close. She stretched her arms out, her back arching as she yawned sleepily. Missing him desperately, she’d dreamed of him every night pulling her into his arms for almost a week, just as he was doing now.

“I missed you,” she said, her voice still groggy.

He nibbled at her neck, her chin, and finally kissed her mouth. “And I missed you more than you can imagine.”

She cracked her eyes open. It was still dark outside, which meant they didn’t have to get out of bed any time soon. “This has to be the most pleasant way to wake up.”

“It’s too late in the evening to even consider wakefulness.” He kissed her eyelids and the tip of her nose before pressing his mouth to hers.

“Yes, but that means you’ve been up all day and riding late into the night. Why would you take that chance? I’d have been beside myself had anything happened to you.”

“I missed you dearly.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “And when I can think of nothing but you and us together again it makes me act irrationally.”

Her room was too dark to really see Hayden. She’d found this room connected to the master bedchamber, and while she’d snuck into his room the first few nights so she could smell the scent of him as she fell asleep, she’d finally resolved to sleep in this bed so the servants didn’t question whether she was the new mistress of the house or Hayden’s mistress of the night.

“What time is it?”

“One in the morning.”

She pushed him up, trying to sit, worried suddenly what the outcome of the duel might be. “Has something happened to Tristan to bring you home at this hour of the night?”

“I like it when you call it home.” His tone grew somber. “The doctor assured me Tristan would be fine. They will need to watch for infection, ensure that there’s no poisoning from the bullet that grazed his side.”

Eyes wide, her hands shot up to cover her sound of shock. She kicked the blankets down to slide out of the bed and light a candle on the bedside table. She couldn’t remain idle when her friend had been injured. “We need to be there for him.”

Hayden pulled her back down next to him. “His wife is all a-tither. And they don’t want the children to know what happened, so he will remain in bed until we’ve un-missed each other.”

She nibbled at her lower lip. “Ronnie will know something isn’t right.” Tristan’s daughter was a bright girl, and she’d know the moment she saw her father that something was amiss. There was no doubt in Jessica’s mind about that.

Hayden had been prepared for the direction of her thoughts, for he replied, “The children think he took a fall from his horse on an early-morning exercise. A fallen log mixed with too much fog was the reasoning we came up with, since he knows his lands blindfolded.”

Her hands curled into fists. “I am going to kill Ponsley myself.”

“You’ll do no such thing. Their issues are resolved—for the time being. I’m sure it’ll be a long road before he and his daughter sort out their differences.”