Читать книгу The Historical Collection - Stephanie Laurens - Страница 40

In St. James Park, fog swamped the new shoots of grass and wound through the budding tree branches. At the opposite end of the green, Lambert and Bradford were indecipherable figures in the mist.

“We’ll have to reschedule,” Chase said. “As your second, I’ll go have a chat with the enemy.”

Ashbury grabbed his friend by the collar, holding him back. “As the second, I’ll do it.”

“No one is postponing anything,” Gabe said. “This bastard will not live to see another dawn. Not if I have something to say about it.”

“Precisely how much shooting have you done?” Chase asked.

“A fair amount.”

“Right.” Ashbury looked grim. “So scarcely any.”

“I’m not in the country shooting pheasants. The man’s going to be standing right in front of me.”

“To be sure he will be. Right in front of you, somewhere in this soup of fog,” Ashbury complained. “You can scarcely see twenty paces, let alone hit a target with any accuracy.”

Gabe shrugged. “His weather isn’t any better than mine.”

“But his facility with a pistol is,” Ash replied. “Don’t be a clod. In particular, don’t be a dead clod.”

Gabe extended his right arm, arranging his fingers into a mock pistol, and sized up the shot.

“Allow me.” Chase nudged his friend aside. “Listen, Gabe. I feel bound to explain the potential consequences here. Dueling is illegal, to begin. It’s also bloody dangerous. Men die.”

“Yes,” Gabe said impatiently. “That’s the point.”

“There’s a solid chance you’ll be grievously, if not mortally, wounded. And if by some miracle you do kill Lambert, your chance of dying only increases. Odds are, you’d be charged with murder and hang for it.”

Gabe shrugged. “Not much I can do about it now, is there?”

“There is,” Ashbury said. “Delope. Count off the paces, and when you turn, fire your pistol straight up into the air. Then pray Lambert does the same.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“It’s a sort of truce. Means honor is satisfied.”

“I will not be satisfied until that villain is dead. He doesn’t deserve honor. What he did to Penny was not merely despicable. It was unforgivable.”

“We know. Her suffering is unfathomable. So if you love her, don’t put her through even more pain. If you were to die, she’d be devastated. Hell, even Chase and I would be …” He looked to his friend for the word.

“Disappointed?” Chase suggested.

“Let’s go with inconvenienced,” Ashbury replied.

Chase nodded. “Someone has to eat the sandwiches.”

“Thank you both for this touching moment.” Gabe shoved past them. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a rotting pile of human filth to murder.”

“She loves you,” Chase said.

“She loves anything with a face.” Gabe gestured at Ashbury’s scarred visage. “In your instance, half a face. If I die, she will find someone else.”

“I’ve known Penny since we were children,” Ashbury said. “Yes, she’ll extend love to the most miserable of creatures. But much as I hate to admit it, this is different. I’ve never seen her like this before.”

“Delope,” Chase said. “Do it for her.”

Gabe spoke through a clenched jaw. “Everything I will ever do for the remainder of my life—whether that life lasts ten minutes or fifty years—is for her. I don’t require your approval, and I don’t need you as my goddamned second and third.” When neither of the two men moved, Gabe bellowed at them, “Begone.”

Before walking away, Chase leaned close. “Just as a point of clarification, in case you do die … Which of us would you say was the second, and which the third?”

“For Christ’s sake.” Gabe was going to finish this. Now. He stalked across the green, took one of the prepared dueling pistols from the case, and approached Lambert until they stood toe-to-toe. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Are you offering to apologize for this grievous misunderstanding?”

“No.” He jammed the barrel of the pistol into Lambert’s gut. “I’m thinking I’ll skip over the ten paces nonsense and shoot you right now in cold blood.”

Lambert made a croaking noise. “You’d hang for that.”

“Perhaps.”

The fact might have dissuaded Gabe—if he wasn’t a dead man already.

Ash and Chase were right. He would be at a disadvantage shooting from any distance, and he’d be committing a crime punishable by death. Maybe he’d survive the duel, but he’d be captured soon afterward—and if he didn’t succeed in killing Lambert, it would have been for nothing. If he was going to swing from the end of a noose, he might as well go out knowing he’d meet this monster in Hell.

“You won’t get away with it,” Lambert said. “Everyone knows what you are. Word about the ton is that you’re nothing but a lowborn guttersnipe.”

“The word about the ton is right.” Gabe cocked the pistol. “And this lowborn guttersnipe is sending you to Hell.”

“Wait!”

The cry pierced the fog. It was a high-pitched, desperate cry. Female. Familiar.

Gabe closed his eyes and cursed.

Penny.

“Wait!” Penny cried, dashing over the damp grass with her hem hiked to her ankles. By the time she arrived at Gabriel’s side, she was panting. “Wait. Don’t shoot him.”

“Penny, what are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she hissed. “I’m preventing you from doing something that will get you killed.”

“You need to leave. You don’t belong here.”

“You’re wrong. I do belong here. If anyone’s going to defend my honor this morning, it’s going to be me.” She put her hand over the barrel of the pistol. “I’m the only one who can do this.”

Gabriel reluctantly fell back a step.

Penny took his place, standing directly in front of Lambert. She looked him in the eye. “I have things to say to you. You’re going to listen. Silently. Not one word. Otherwise, Mr. Duke will have my permission to do with you what he will. Understood?”

“Now, poppet. We—”

“Not. One. Word,” she growled.

Gabriel aimed the pistol.

Lambert displayed his open hands. Silently.

“I was a child. I trusted you. My family trusted you. What you did to me was an unconscionable betrayal of that trust.”

Bradford turned to his father-in-law. “What does she mean?”

“I can’t imagine,” Lambert said.

“He touched me,” Penny told her brother. Her voice was flat, drained of emotion. “In ways a grown man should never touch a girl. He did it for years.”

“I would never hurt you, poppet. You must have misunderstood.”

“I understood perfectly. You gained my trust with gifts and attention, and then you manipulated that trust to hurt me. You drove a wedge between me and my parents. You made me feel dirty and ashamed.”

“Penny,” her brother said. “If what you’re saying is true, why did you never say anything before now?”

“Oh, Bradford. Because of this. Precisely this. I knew you would doubt me.”

“I don’t doubt you believe you’re telling the truth. But I do wonder if you might be confused.”

“Calling me ‘confused’ is doubting me.” She kept her gaze on Lambert. “I’m not confused. I recall everything. Every hug that lasted too long. Every kiss in exchange for a sweetmeat. Every ‘dancing lesson’ in the ballroom that one rainy autumn. And I remember every caution to keep those things secret. I knew it was wrong, even as a child. You knew it was wrong, too.”

“Wrong isn’t the word,” Gabriel interjected. “Sick. Monstrous. Evil. Death is too good for you, you—”

“Thank you,” Penny cut in. “I appreciate your support, but I’ll choose my own words today. And I’ll take my own retribution.”

Lambert chuckled. “Retribution?”

“I will never forgive you for ruining those years that should have been happy, or for ruining those relationships. But know this: You did not ruin me. You could never ruin me.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a tightly rolled sheaf of papers. “I’m the one who is going to ruin you.”

“I can’t imagine what you mean.”

“Can’t you? This might spark your memory.” She unrolled the papers. “Perhaps you remember borrowing a large sum of money from my Aunt Caroline to pay off gambling debts? And perhaps you remember accumulating more gambling debts without repaying that loan. My aunt wasn’t the only one you bilked, either. You’ve quite a trail of unpaid debts, Mr. Lambert. They amount to tens of thousands of pounds. And as of this morning, you have only one creditor. Me.”

Gabriel took the papers from her hands and sifted through them. “Penny, how on earth did you accomplish this?”

“I learned from the best. And I had help.” She nodded toward the edge of the park, where a dark coach and team were just visible through the fog. “My aunt and I spent all night tracking down people who’d loaned him money. She bought up all the debts, and she sold the entire bundle of paper to me. For a shilling.”

“You are a wonder.”

“Is it all in order?” she asked. “Will it hold in court?”

Gabriel nodded. “As far as I can see.”

“Good.” She said to Lambert, “This will be easier for us both if you’ll surrender your assets willingly. If you won’t, I’ll go through Chancery and ruthlessly take from you whatever I can claim. I could burn your life to the ground. But if you agree to my terms, you’ll keep your house and a modest income.”

“Like hell he will,” Gabriel interjected. “Leave him with nothing.”

Penny never took her eyes from Lambert. “He needs his house and the income to keep it. Because he must agree to never leave that home again.”

“What?”

“Allow me to tell you what’s happened this morning, here in this park. You’ve been injured, most grievously, in this duel. As a result, you’re going home to the country to recover. Except that you won’t recover. Ever.”

“Ever?”

“As far as the remainder of the world is concerned, you will remain a homebound invalid for the rest of your life. You may have the bare minimum of servants—old, unpleasant, male ones. No callers.”

“No callers?”

“None.”

“Not even my grandchildren?”

“Especially not your grandchildren. If you care anything for them, you will do precisely as I say. If I find you’ve broken this agreement, I will expose not only your perversion but your insolvency. Your children and grandchildren will be tainted by association. And Mr. Duke will have my full support to do what he will with you.”

“Insupportable,” Lambert snarled. “I won’t be subordinate to a guttersnipe.”

“Mr. Duke is worth hundreds of you. Thousands.”

“Only because he stole that money from decent families.”

“I’m not talking about his fortune. I’m speaking of his worth as a man. As for decency … ? You have no grounds to speak on that matter.”

He fished about for another argument. “Bradford, surely you won’t permit her to do this.”

“My brother has no choice in the matter. Even if he offers you mercy, I will not.”

Lambert’s chin quavered. The reality of his situation seemed to finally be sinking in. “Surely we can come to some other agreement. Think of your parents, my friendship with your father. We can find a way to settle this misunderstanding, poppet.”

“Don’t you ever—ever—call me that again. Or I swear, I will shoot you dead myself.” Penny stared directly into his repulsive, cowardly eyes. “I’m not your ‘poppet’ any longer. I own you. And in the future, if you address me at all, it will be as Lady Penelope Duke.” A more fitting idea struck her, and a cold smile touched her lips. “Better yet, you may call me the Duchess of Ruin.”

Aunt Caroline joined them. “Time for you to be on your way, Lambert. There’s a carriage waiting. These gentlemen will see you to it.”

Two giants emerged from the fog to take Lambert by either arm and drag him away.

The older woman smiled. “Now, that was satisfying. I never knew until this moment how much I wanted to have henchmen.” With a pat to Penny’s shoulder and a swish of skirts, she turned to follow.

Only Bradford lingered. “Penny …” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Deuced if I know what to make of all this.”

“There are two alternatives. You believe me, or you don’t.” She drew a steadying breath. “You should know this. I’ve decided that I can’t have anything to do with that man, ever again. If you choose to maintain a relationship with him—of any sort—I can’t have a relationship with you.”

He searched her eyes. “You’re going to make me choose?”

“I have to. Otherwise, I’ll never be at peace.”

He looked into the distance and was silent for a long moment. “He’s my wife’s father.”

“I know.” Penny forced down the emotion choking her throat. His decision was nothing she hadn’t expected. She’d always known which of them he would chose. “Safe travels, Bradford.”

He went to join his father-in-law.

She turned and walked in the other direction, not wanting to watch them leave. Gabriel walked alongside her.

“Are they gone?” she asked, a few minutes later.

He looked over his shoulder. “Yes.”

“Good.”

She promptly crumpled to the ground. Her knees buckled beneath her and she leaned forward, bracing her palms on the turf for strength. She watched the damp earth seep under her fingernails. She felt cold droplets of dew wetting her stockings. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. But none of it felt real. She floated above herself, an observer.

Then Gabriel’s arms went around her, tethering her to the earth. Air flooded her lungs, then rushed out as a tearless sob. She turned and buried her face in his chest, clinging to his coat.

He rocked her gently, murmuring words of love in her ear and stroking her hair. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I want to go home,” she whispered. “I want to cry, and sleep for days, and possibly break things.”

“That can be arranged. Mrs. Burns has Bathsheba Wendleby’s old china stashed in the cellar. Service for eighteen.”

“Perfect.” She closed her eyes. “I’m also going to find a new litter of kittens, and I don’t want to hear anything about it.”

“You won’t hear a word from me. Even if you have a hundred kittens.” His hand stilled on her back, and he added, “That was hyperbole, you understand.”

She lifted her head. “And in a few weeks, or maybe months, I want to start planning a wedding. The biggest, grandest wedding Mayfair has ever seen. The guest list will fill the society column for weeks.”

“I hope I’m invited.”

She gave him a teasing pinch. “You will not be invited. You’ll be the groom. And it’s going to be the best wedding in the world.”