Rov would not recall the challenge with a witness present, especially a woman. It was not in his nature.
“I shall have my seconds contact you before the day is out, Your Grace,” he said as if they had never known each other in their lives. He made a formal bow and left the ballroom, his booted heels clicking on the parquet floor with his departure—and with him may have gone Gavin’s assurances to the prime minister that Rov would move the Military Money Bill expediently out of the Commons. Damn.
Gavin had no doubt Rov had the power to delay the bill and would out of spite. And what of the vote today? The Pensions Duties Act? Gavin had needed Rov’s vote—
A hand waved in front of Gavin’s face. “Hel-lo? Hello?” Sarah said.
He blinked, annoyed, and looked down at her. She’d positioned herself right in front of him, her expression reminding him of nothing less than an angry chipmunk.
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” she said. “You can’t duel over me.”
“Apparently I can.” He walked over to the tray, poured a good splash of sherry into a teacup and drank it down.
“You don’t have to defend me,” she informed him. “I can take care of myself.”
“This isn’t about you.”
Her brows rose. “Oh.”
There was a wealth of meaning in that one word.
He’d heard men complain before how their wives could, just with the tone of their voice, convey a litany of opinions. He’d not understood how that could be until this moment when Sarah Pettijohn decided to school him, and he did not like her disdain. Perhaps she needed to be schooled back.
“It was either accept his challenge or let you go with him,” he informed her, his mind working on the problem of Rov’s vote. Perhaps he could sway another man’s vote in his favor—
“I would never have gone with him,” she answered nobly.
Distracted, Gavin said, “He wouldn’t need your approval, Mrs. Pettijohn. In order to win the wagers he has made, all he has to do is bed you, one way or the other. By force if necessary.”
“He wouldn’t dare.”
“After you kneed him on stage last night, I believe Rov would do that and maybe more to salvage his reputation.” That statement felt good. She did bear a responsibility, albeit an unwitting one, in this new chain of unfortunate events.
“Including shoot you?” she flashed back.
“Or run a sword through me,” he agreed.
He wished the sherry was whisky. Sherry would never have the same mind-steadying qualities as whisky. However, that didn’t prevent him from pouring another as his mind worked over this devilish twist to the many promises he’d made—
“I’m done,” she announced, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m sorry I came here.” She moved toward the chair where he’d placed her cloak. She set down her precious play so that she could throw the wet garment over her shoulders. “Please, forget my request for your help,” she declared dramatically. “It is no longer of importance.”
Her ruined hat fell to the floor. She picked it up, shook it out, started to put it on her head, realized how comical that would appear and tucked it in a pocket of her cloak. She picked up her play. “Thank you for your time, Your Grace. I shall see myself out.” She began walking toward the door.
Gavin raised his voice. “Do you truly believe that if you just leave you will stop a duel?”
Sarah stopped, faced him. “If I had never come here, it would not have happened.”
“How little you know of men, Mrs. Pettijohn. Considering Rov’s irresponsible behavior, sooner or later it must have happened. He isn’t one to listen to reason.”
“But I wouldn’t be involved.”
“Not with the duel. However, Rov would have found you and then who knows what he would do? Certainly he would boast about it. Also consider your noble cause. What of your friends who have been robbed of their wages by this Tom and Clarence.”
“Geoff and Charles,” she corrected. “Why are you arguing this?” She moved back to confront him. “They are not worth your life, Your Grace. None of them are.”
“You touch me, Mrs. Pettijohn. You are worried that I might be killed. There has been a time or two in our short acquaintance when I feared you would be the one to wield the sword.”
“There are times when I do think of doing you bodily harm, Your Grace, such as right now. How can you possibly imagine I would wish you harm? I could pull out your arrogant tongue for even voicing the thought.”
