“At the first shot?”
“Yes.”
“And you watched to make sure nothing dishonorable happened?”
Connor pressed his lips together. Nathaniel feared the young man might retch. “Yes. I watched.”
“And the other man. Was he injured?”
“No, I don’t think so, sir.”
Dash it.
“In any case, he and his second rode away. And when I saw how bad Mr. Upchurch was, I ran to the road and hailed the first wagon that passed.”
“And I thank you for doing so.” Nathaniel inhaled deeply. “You didn’t recognize the man, but do you have any guesses? Know of anyone with a grudge against my brother?”
“I don’t know, sir.” Connor’s face puckered in thought. “I’m not thinking very clearly at the moment.”
Nathaniel sighed. “Of course you’re not. Sorry to push you so.” He stood. “Very well, Connor. That will be all for now. If you think of anything else, do let me know.”
“Yes, sir. I am sorry, sir.”
“So am I. But don’t despair; he may yet recover.”
“There is hope, then?”
“There is always hope, with God. Though the surgeon holds out little. I have sent for a physician, a friend of my father’s. Until he arrives, we can do little but pray.”
Killing in a duel had long been outlawed by the
beginning of the 1800s, but the practice of dueling continued
to be found through the late 19th century, though by
this time duels were rarely fought to the death.
—Caliburn Fencing Club
Chapter 26
Nathaniel had not seen Mr. Saxby all day. But he did join Nathaniel and Helen for a somber dinner that night. Nathaniel asked him nothing during the meal, but when Helen excused herself to return to the sickroom, Nathaniel lingered in the dining room while Lewis’s friend sipped his port.
“Do you know anything about the duel?” Nathaniel asked.
Saxby’s eyes were steely. “What should I know about it?”
“Did you see Lewis last night after he left the ball?”
“No.”
“Where did he go, do you know?”
Saxby shrugged. “The only thing that would draw Lewis from a room full of ladies is a female more fair—or more willing—somewhere else.”
Nathaniel’s anger flared, and Saxby must have seen it. “Come, take no offense, Nate. You know your brother as well as I do. There is no need to saint him while he yet breathes.”
“Do you know the identity of thisfairlady?”
