“Don’t trouble yourself, Norton. I am aware of the duke’s shortcomings. Unfortunately they’re difficult to ignore.” He waved toward the servant in a dismissive manner. “You may leave us now.”
Raphe watched as the flustered butler backed away, apologizing one more time before shutting the door behind him. With a shake of his head, Raphe turned his attention back to Fielding. “You’re an arrogant bastard. Do you know that?”
Fielding’s eyes narrowed. “Which do you favor? Pistols or swords?”
“Neither.”
“Now who’s being a coward?” But Fielding didn’t wait for Raphe to answer. He added swiftly, “My education and upbringing are superior to yours, Huntley. That’s not arrogance—that’s plain fact.”
“And yet, I outrank you.” Raphe allowed a smirk. “Funny, don’t you think?”
“Hilarious.”
Raphe studied him a second. Oh, how he’d love to knock that haughty expression from the blighter’s face. He grit his teeth in preparation for battle. “Break off the engagement to Lady Gabriella.”
“So you can have her instead?” Fielding scoffed, leaned back, and crossed his legs. “That’s never going to happen.”
“No?” Raphe held himself in check. “Not even if I tell the world that you tricked her? What would people say if they discovered that she never agreed to marry you and that you’re holding her hostage—using her fear of scandal and her family’s misfortune against her in your greedy attempt to acquire her fortune?”
A muscle twitched at the edge of Fielding’s mouth. “It would be your word against mine.”
“True. But are you really willing to take that risk?”
“I repeat: pistols or swords? We’ll meet at dawn. The winner gets Lady Gabriella.”
“You seem fairly confident of the outcome.”
“I’m aware of my skill with both weapons.” His mouth twisted with disdain. “You’ll lose.”
Tilting his head, Raphe finally smiled. “Arrogance, Fielding. It’ll be your downfall.” The earl’s face darkened to a shade of uncomely red. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Raphe went on. “The worst mistake you can ever make in a fight is to underestimate your opponent. But the truth is that I have the advantage.”
“How?”
“You challenged me, Fielding. That means that I decide how we go about this. But we won’t be firing pistols or dueling with swords. We’ll be using our fists.”
“What? That’s preposterous, Huntley. Nobody duels with their fists!”
“There’s a first time for everything, Fielding.” Raphe’s smile spread until he was practically grinning. He’d suspected that goading the earl would lead to this, and so it had. But the earl no longer looked as self-assured as he had a moment earlier. “And since you’re the one challenging me, I get to choose the terms, and I choose fists, tonight at Gentleman Jackson’s. Unless of course you wish to renege.”
“Renege?” Fielding’s eyes had taken on a look of distinct panic.
“Think about it, Fielding. I’m taller and broader than you are. I train on a daily basis in order to keep myself physically fit while you look like the sort of man whose idea of sport is going for a ride in the park. I’ve fought against hardened laborers, men who wanted to knock my head off my shoulders, and I’ve won—every time. Don’t make the mistake of facing me in the ring on account of pride.” Leaning back, he held Fielding’s gaze. “Either way, you lose Lady Gabriella, but you can choose to avoid the humiliation of losing to me in front of a crowd by simply walking away.”
It took ten more minutes for Raphe to convince Fielding that the odds were too great against him, and for the stubborn earl to finally agree to back down. He didn’t shake the hand Raphe offered him, and he didn’t respond when Raphe bid him a good day, the glower in his eyes following Raphe like a black shadow until he left Fielding House with the hope of never having to deal with the earl again.
But the pleasure his victory over Fielding had brought was swept aside and replaced by a new concern the moment he returned home and Richardson handed him a letter.
Sighing, Raphe dropped down onto his chair and read the ugly scrawl. He then asked, “Is Lady Gabriella still here?”
“She is in the music room with your sisters and Lady Victoria,” Richardson told him.
“I’d like to give her an update on my visit with Fielding. And I’ll need to tell her about this.” He jabbed the letter with his finger as he leaned back in his seat. “Can you please ask her to come and see me?”
She arrived moments later with a wary smile about her lips. “How did it go?”
Rising to greet her, Raphe strode around his desk and clasped her hands between his own. “You’re free of him. He’s letting you go.”
A whoosh of air escaped her. “How?” She stared at him as though he’d performed a miracle, and he realized that in a way, perhaps he had.
