Page 30 of The Dueling Duchess

“It would be impossible to avoid knowing about your antics since they are noised about everywhere.”

“If by everywhere you mean gossip columns and print shop windows, then you are correct.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps you need to spend your time and attention pursuing more elevated subjects, Miss Tremblay.”

“I could say the same about you, Lord Carlisle.”

“Please tell me you don’t believe everything you read in the newspapers?”

“I am not so gullible. However, I think where there is smoke—as there is in your case—there is probably fire.”

“By fire I assume you mean that I encourage women to be unfaithful to their husbands?”

“I’m not so sure who does the actual encouraging, but I do believe you have an exceedingly, er, elastic notion of what is moral behavior.”

He chuckled. “Well, it may surprise you to know that I am not so debauched as I’m painted.”

She gave him a saucy look and then said. “How disappointing.” And then she pivoted on her heel and sauntered off, leaving Guy alone to ponder what she meant.

And what he should do about it.

Chapter 6

Lille, France

March 5, 1815

Guy was not, by and large, a praying man. But as he held the playing card a mere inch above his head, he offered up the most heartfelt plea he could muster.

Silently, of course.

“Should I use a blindfold this time?” Cecile called out in French to the loud and raucous crowd.

“Blindfold!” the crazed audience yelled in almost one voice.

“Oh God,” Guy muttered under his breath.

This next part of the act was not one he’d been relishing, even though they’d practiced it often during the month of rehearsals.

But this was the first time he’d been on stage during an actual show, and there was something about being dressed like a bloody court jester in front of two hundred screaming Frenchmen that made the experience infinitely more harrowing.

Cecile grinned at the yelling audience in a way that caused Guy’s cock to perk up. And why shouldn’t it enjoy itself? It wasn’t his cock that she was going to shoot at, was it?

She pulled the black silk scarf from the extremely low-cut bodice of her gown, causing the theater to thunder with shouts and wolf whistles.

Guy swallowed as she tied the blindfold on.

He knew the bright lighting behind and above him would help to throw him into relief and make him a clearer target, but knowing that didn’t stop him from worrying every time they got to this part of the act.

“Quiet now!” She had to raise her voice to be heard above the crowd. “I need complete silence to concentrate. I cannot miss this shot—Monsieur Darling is my third assistant this year and I don’t want to have to hire another one.”

The audience thought that was hilarious.

Once the crowd grew silent, she lifted the pistol and took aim with one heart-stoppingly smooth motion.

Guy barely had time to be terrified before she squeezed the trigger.

Thank God the report of the pistol was too loud to hear the high-pitched squeaking sound he made when the hat flew off—as if a fierce wind had streaked through the theater—and exploded in midair, showering him with bits of glitter and foil.

The crowd erupted in cheers and Cecile turned and took a bow, as did Guy, but far more shakily. Thankfully the blindfold shot was her encore so he could wobble off the stage.