“I’m not asking you to!” Morgan snapped. He shook his head because now the door was crowded with faces. The others in their party had come to the shouting, it seemed. Because all of this had to be played out for all to see.
It was inevitable, in a way.
“I’m not asking you to save me,” he said, this time more gently. He glanced at Brighthollow, who looked sick at the exchange. At Donburrow, who looked confused as he clearly tried to discern what was happening.
Katherine stepped up, setting her hand on Robert’s chest, gently backing him away. “Morgan, what is going on? Why are you shouting? What is Robert saving you from?”
He shook his head. “I did something, I wronged someone last year. That’s why I was attacked a few days ago.” He sighed. “Robert meant well—I know you mean well. I know you…I know you care for me. I know you want to make up for…for our father. For the years all of us bastard siblings were left to fend for ourselves.”
Robert turned his face, but the truth of what Morgan said was plain across his features. “Yes,” he said softly.
“You intervened when Covington wanted a duel the first time,” Morgan said. “You stepped in to save me. But paying him off didn’t end this. It never could because it offers no satisfaction to the injured party, and the injured party isn’t me. Not this time. So yes, I intend to meet Gareth at dawn tomorrow.”
The ladies in the room gasped, all but Elizabeth. She just stood there, her eyes filled with tears, her cheeks pale. She never looked away from him, and her eyes were filled with pain and accusation and fear all stirred into one beautiful, stormy blue sea. He hated himself for causing her this agony, even though he’d always known that was what he would do. He would hurt her. And he had tried not to do so. He’d failed.
“You would die for a mistake?” Robert whispered, and his voice cracked.
Morgan moved toward him and Katherine stepped away, allowing the two brothers the moment Morgan needed. He squeezed Robert’s shoulder. “You don’t trust me. I know you don’t.” Robert opened his mouth, but Morgan shook his head. “Don’t lie to me. You don’t. I haven’t earned it, perhaps. I want to do so someday. But I need you to hear me. I know my friend. I know he won’t shoot.”
Robert rolled his eyes. “He asked for a duel, you have to assume he will fire upon you.”
“He won’t,” Morgan said softly. “I believe that.”
“And if he does?” Amelia interjected.
Morgan cleared his throat and his gaze again shifted to Elizabeth. “Then I’ll take the punishment I deserve.”
She gasped out a sob at that and then rushed from the room. Amelia glanced at Hugh and whispered, “I’ll go after her.”
Katherine and the Duchess of Donburrow followed, too, after sending their own husbands silent looks. And so Morgan was left with the men. All three of the dukes watched him, with equal looks of concern on their faces.
“I’ve never been honorable in my life,” Morgan whispered, and couldn’t help but think of that beautiful night with Elizabeth. He was happier than ever that he had taken it. Earned or not, it was worth it. “Please let me be honorable in this.”
Robert bent his head and acceptance flowed over his face. “Who would you like as your second?” he asked.
Brighthollow stepped forward, his expression serious. “I already offered to do so, but if you would prefer to take that role, I will relinquish it.”
Robert jerked his head up. “You knew?”
Morgan could see the two men, the two friends…the two brothers could easily come to blows in this taut and emotional environment, so he stepped between them. “He knew I was reaching out to Gareth, but we didn’t know if he would accept my offer to fulfill the duel you interrupted last year.”
“I would have told you once I knew,” Brighthollow said softly.
“I wasn’t going to keep you in the dark either.” Morgan met his gaze and held it there. “And if you would stand at my side as my second, brother, then I would be happy to have you there.”
Donburrow stepped forward and pulled out his notebook to write. He scribbled for a moment and then handed the note to Robert.
“He says that both he and Hugh will come as witnesses,” Robert said. “And friends to us both.”
“We will,” Hugh said softly.
Robert turned away from all three men and paced to the window. He stood there for a long time, staring out at the garden. Finally, he turned. “I’ve only just found you,” he said with a shake of his head. “I hope you’re right that I won’t lose you.”
Morgan stepped to him, his heart swelling for this man he had once resented, then tolerated and now…loved. As a true brother and a friend.
“You won’t,” he promised.
Robert embraced him, and Morgan sagged a little with relief. At least he would have friends with him tomorrow morning. But he couldn’t help but think of Lizzie. Her face when she left the room had been…harrowing. And he hated himself for hurting her more than he hated himself for any selfish act he’d ever committed, including the one that would take him to the dueling field at dawn.
