Page 78 of Much Ado about a Widow

Travers’s mouth dropped open, though no sound of protest came out.

“You may have found your way into my bed by nefarious means, but merely lying in one does not cause a woman to have a child. And I can swear before God, you did not touch me in such a way that a child could be conceived. In fact”—she leaned toward him, and he swayed back—“I may have made sure that you can never produce a child.” She held her hand up before his eyes and clenched her fist.

The earl shuddered and shuffled back.

“If that is the case, I am sorry.” She didn’t want to have been the cause of his line’s dying out, certainly. But neither had she wanted him in her bed. “I did not mean to affect you thusly. But I did wish to save my virtue, and that was the only way for me to do so.” Nodding her head, she found herself staring into the furious face of her father.

“You freely admit to this wanton behavior?” Father stared at her, disbelief plain on his face.

“I . . .” To admit this in public would be shameful beyond belief. But if it was the only way for her and Rob to be together, then so be it. “Yes, yes it is true.”

“I demand satisfaction.” Barreling back up the dock, Lord Travers drew himself up to face Rob. Georgie believed he would punch her beloved in the face, but instead he ripped off one of his Yorkshire-tan gloves and threw it at Rob’s feet. “Meet me now, sir, or else be known forever after as coward.”

Leaning down to pick up the offending glove, Rob chuckled.

Why on earth would he laugh about such a serious challenge?

He snagged the scrap of leather and straightened. “It will be my pleasure, Travers, to put a ball through your black heart.”

“Travers.” Her father’s frown said he did not approve of this turn of events. “Don’t be a fool. He’s trying to draw you out so he can kill you and marry my daughter.”

“How can I not answer that slap, my lord?” Travers was stumping toward the end of the dock, moving toward the beach where several more men were milling around. “I’ve been waiting to bed Lady Georgina for nigh on five years. And St. Just has just told the world he’s cuckolded me before I am even her husband. Cole.” He called, and one of the men on the beach trotted toward him. “Bring me my set of dueling pistols.”

The man nodded and headed toward one of the carriages sitting on the crushed shell road that led up to the castle.

“You carry dueling pistols with you all the time, Travers?” Rob had taken Georgie’s arm as they and the rest of the company moved toward shore as well. “That speaks to your sense of preparedness at least. I suppose a man of your reputation never knows when he may be accosted by an irate husband.”

“Rather disconcerting to have the shoe upon the other foot now, is it not, Lord Travers?” Georgie spoke as sweetly as she could manage while biting back her fear. Under her voice she whispered to Rob, “You’re not really going to duel with him, are you?”

The wretch laughed aloud and patted her arm. “Of course I’m going to duel with him. This is my God-given chance to get Travers out of our lives for good. You cannot marry a dead man.”

“I know. So make certain he is the dead man and not you. Have you dueled before?”

“No, but I’m a good shot.” He raised her hand for a kiss. “And I’ve got excellent motivation to succeed. Our future together.”

They reached the hard-packed sand of the beach, still waiting for Travers’s man to bring the weapons.

“Will you fight here?” She cast a doubtful look around. The beach was very rocky, not the best place if one needed sure footing.

“I’ll suggest the front lawn instead.” His cheerful confidence did not reassure her overmuch. This was a dangerous gamble, with stakes incredibly high for them. “The good thing about living so far removed in the country is that one does not have to go about trying to hide such things.”

“Georgie, you must stop this.” Elizabeth reached them as Travers’s servant returned, a thin wooden box in his hands.

“I do not think I can, my dear.” Her friend’s worried countenance fed her own fears. “Rob assures me that—Oh, oh! There, that’s him.” She tugged on Rob’s sleeve, Elizabeth completely forgotten. “That’s Odd Fellow!” She pointed at Travers’s servant as he handed his master the box of pistols. “Kidnapper! Kidnapper!”

Again all eyes turned to Georgie, but she paid them no mind. She ran forward to Travers’s side, sticking an accusing finger in Odd Fellow’s face. “You didn’t think to see me again, did you, ruffian? Rob, Father, this is the man who abducted me, Clara, and Lulu. I know him well because of his very odd features. That’s why I called him Odd Fellow to myself and Clara.”

“What are you talking about now, Georgina?” Her father turned from speaking with Jemmy, frowning once again. “You are certainly proving more trouble than you are worth. How can you accuse Lord Travers’s servant of abducting you? Why would he do such a thing?”

Grasping the pistol case, Travers jerked his head toward them, then back to the servant. “Go. Now,” he hissed at him.

“Hold!” Rob shouted, striding forward. “Stay right where you are, sir.”

The man stopped, his gaze shifting uncertainly between his master and Rob.

“I have no idea, Father,” Georgie continued, “but I know that is him. All you need do is let Clara see him, and she will tell you as well.”

“As can I, Lord Blackham.” Eyes narrowed, Rob joined them. “That”—he pointed at the man, now trying to shield his face—“is one of the men who was guarding your carriage and Lady Georgina’s trunks. I sent him off chasing after a boy to lure him away from the carriage, then my men and I secured her property and took it back to my ship.”