Griffin’s second held his cane in the air to indicate the end of the fighting.
The baron, breathing heavily and backing away, glared at Flavion.
Flavion laughed. “Next time, old man, you might wish to at least make a fight of it.” Turning his back on Griffin, he sauntered toward Stephen and Marcus to receive his congratulations.
As relieved as Stephen was for his cousin, he was once again disappointed in him and worried.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Flavion said jovially. He had thoroughly recovered his swagger and confidence. “I wish to fight the colonel with swords as well. You haven’t yet arranged for pistols, have you?”
“I spent all of yesterday with Griffin’s second. I will be meeting with the colonels second this afternoon.” Stephen had not arranged for pistols, yet. He wasn’t certain which weapon could be most favorable for Flave. From all he’d heard of the colonel, the man would have an advantage regardless.
Taking a few swipes at the grass with his blade, Flavion was quite full of himself suddenly, like an overgrown puppy, exuberant and rambunctious. “Swords it is then!”
Stephen could not help thinking that such an easy victory had not been a good thing for his cousin. He also had a grudging admiration for the older man, for making the challenge in the first place. He did not like Flavion’s attitude upon winning. Griffin had been defending his daughter. Flavion had been in the wrong.
As Stephen easily swung into his saddle, he sought the right words to contain Flavion’s celebration. “Your fitness did well for you, cousin. Yourrepostewas efficient but you were slow with yourredoublement. You will have to be quicker with the colonel. The man has been a killer all his life. You would do well to remember that.”
“The colonel is old,” Flavion said. “I should not have been so worried this morning. I shall have to find Daphne and assure her that all is well.” Steering his horse away from Stephen, he tipped his hat jauntily. “I shall see you late this evening at Nottinghouse then. Wouldn’t it be a coup if the colonel called off upon hearing of my victory this morning?” With a wink and a laugh, he turned his horse and headed off to God knew where.
A cold knot of fear took hold of Stephen. Overconfidence was the last thing in the world his cousin needed. Flave had shown some proper technique and a good amount of fitness and strength with Lord Griffin, but that would not be nearly enough to defeat the colonel. In addition to these concerns, Stephen was doubtful the colonel’s second would agree to a fight to first blood. The colonel was out to avenge the dishonor Flavion had done his daughter. A nick to the skin was not going to accomplish that.
Fatigue settled on him. He urged his horse onward in the hopes that he could catch a few winks before his scheduled meeting that afternoon. He’d only managed to lie abed a few hours before it had been time to alight that morning. And much of that time had been spent conjuring up his memories of a night spent with Cecily.
If he found her awake when he arrived at Nottinghouse, Stephen would inform her of Flavion’s success that morning. It would have been unlikely for her not to have heard of it, what with all of the servants privy to the information. It was nigh impossible to keep word of a duel quiet. In fact, he was surprised more of an audience had not shown up to gawk this morning.
Yes, a meeting with Cecily was called for. She would wish to be informed that she was not yet a widow. She was still a wife.
Unable to liein bed awaiting news of the duel, Cecily summoned Sally to assist her in dressing. She wore one of her new dresses, a floral print on ivory linen with a tight bodice, long sleeves slightly off the shoulder, and a full skirt with a gathered waist. She and Madam Chantal had worked on the design together, and the overall effect raised her spirits.
But not much.
For her imagination would not allow her to rest easy. Until she knew the outcome of the duel she could hardly think of anything else.
What would they do if Flavion got himself injured, or worse? What would Stephen do? She cursed Flavion and then the next moment said prayers for him. Her churlish, ungrateful husband did not deserve her entreaty, but his loyal cousin did.
She sat in the morning room sipping coffee, attempting to pen a few brief notes to Sophia, Rhoda, and Emily when she heard the front door open and close. Pausing in order to listen intently, she heard Stephen’s voice inquiring as to her whereabouts. As he entered the room, she feigned a nonchalance she was nowhere near feeling.
His steps were heavy, his brow stitched with worry. He looked even more strained than usual as he bowed stiffly before her. “My lady, I have news of your husband’s success.”
His words afforded her some relief, but watching Stephen, she could see that his mind was already on the duel scheduled for the following morning. His brow was creased, and there were circles under his eyes. “Please, sit down, Mr. Nottingham,” she said with equal formality. “You need to eat something.“
After a moment’s hesitation, he took a plate from the sideboard and piled on some eggs, bacon, and toast. Cecily dismissed the footman who had stepped forward and then poured Stephen a cup of coffee. She felt the tension from him even more acutely as he sat down beside her.
“This was the least dangerous of the two duels, I take it?” Cecily asked cautiously.
Stephen swallowed the bite he’d taken and set his fork down before answering her. “Every duel is dangerous… but yes, I had deemed it to be the easier of the two. And now… and now Flavion is quite confident in his ability to annihilate the colonel tomorrow.”
“The second duel is with a military man? A colonel? Did Flavion dally with Miss Alice Benning?” At Stephen’s silence, she presumed this to be the case. She’d met the lady in question and her father as well.
Flavion didn’t stand a chance.
Feeling her mouth go dry at this revelation, she could not keep herself from asking, “Is it a duel to the death?”
Stephen picked up his fork again but then seemed to lose much of his appetite as he only took one small bite and sat it back down. “I haven’t negotiated the terms yet. I’ll attempt to minimize the danger for Flavion when I do so later this afternoon.”
He nearly broke her heart all over again when he pushed his plate away, put his elbows on the table, and rested his forehead in his hands.
“He is overconfident now, and I fear he is not…”
