Page 33 of Pride of Lyons

Instinctively, she clutched the arms that held her, as if trying to keep him safe.

“I thought you were asleep.”

His breath, warm in her ear, made her squeeze him tighter, then she turned toward him, staring into his warm eyes. “I dozed, I think.” She wrapped her arm over his shoulder. “But I’d rather be awake. With you.”

That lazy smile emerged, going straight to her heart. What if after tomorrow she never saw that charming smile again? Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes, and she dropped her head down, hoping he didn’t see. She might as well have hoped for pigs to fly with their tails forward.

“What is wrong, my love?” He put a finger under her chin and tipped her head up.

“Oh, Thomas.” Her cheeks were now flooded with tears. “I don’t want you to die. And I don’t want you to have to live with Lord Danford’s blood on your hands. Please, please stop this duel.”

Although his look was kind, it was also firm. “You know I cannot do that, Honoria. And you also know why.”

“But if you are here, alive, and with me, Lord Danford would not dare touch me again. He’d be mad to do so a second time.” Surely the man had learned his lesson by having to undergo this challenge.

“He was mad to do it the first time, my dear. Do you truly believe he will stop his pursuit of you if I leave him alive?” Thomas stared at her until she must look away. In her heart, she knew he was right. “Besides, do you give your husband’s skill with a gun so little credit? I believe I am the better shot. If you wish, you may come watch the target practice in the morning. Geoffrey and Rochdale will be shooting, as well.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her against his warm chest. “Perhaps it will help allay your fears to see that I am well capable of winning this duel.”

Shaking her head, Honoria burrowed it into him. “No, I don’t think I could stand to watch.” She drew in a hitching sigh and managed to stop her tears. “But I am glad you are well-skilled with the weapon. I will have to trust that and to God’s mercy to see you safely through this ordeal.”

“My love,” he pulled her face up and gazed lovingly into it, “the very last thing I wish to do is leave you. Trust in me. It will be all right.”

Oh, how she wished to believe him. She must believe him, for his sake at least. Seeing her fear might somehow shake his confidence. “I do trust you, Thomas, and I will pray for you to come home to me safe and sound.”

“I can ask for nothing more, sweetheart.” He rolled onto his back, bringing her with him to pillow her head on his chest.

They lay silent for a time, him idly stroking her arm, until finally, he cocked his head, his gaze turned toward the tapestry of Adam and Eve. “Does that ancient tapestry look different to you?”

Suppressing a giggle, Honoria nodded. “I hope it does. I’ve been working on it for the past week or more.”

“You’ve been working on it?” He sat up and then mended the candle so the flame burned brighter. “Why did you do that?”

Honoria sat up as well, pulling the sheet up over her chest. There was no fire this time of year, so the chamber was chilly without Thomas’s warmth. “Because you said it needed mending.” Perhaps she needed to reassure him. “I’ve done needlework for the church since I could hold a needle, so I knew I had the skill, even though the fabric was very delicate with age.”

Thomas grabbed the candle and slid out of bed, giving her a wonderful view of his firm buttocks as he padded to the wall hanging. He held the candle up, appraising her work. “This is excellently done, my dear. I had no idea you were such an exceptional needlewoman.”

“When we first came here, I wanted to show you that I could be a good wife to you, even if we didn’t share a bed.” Honoria smiled when he turned toward her. “I had no idea we would take so little time to become lovers, so I wanted some other way to prove I was worthy to be your countess.”

“You have been worthy since the moment we wed, my love. From that moment, I never doubted your worth.” He strode back to the bed, set the candle on the table, and slid under the sheets next to her. Seizing her lips, he kissed her with all the passion she could have ever desired from a husband.

Swiftly, Thomas climbed atop her and plunged into her, filling her completely. Making them as one.

“I have a great debt to pay, and many people to whom I am indebted. For had Rochdale not dragged me to the Lyon’s Den that day, I would never have found you, my love.” He glided in and out, the exquisite feeling of being filled time and again banishing her fears for the time being.

All she could think about was her husband loving her, bringing her the greatest of pleasures, time and again.

When they lay exhausted, again in each other’s arms, Honoria’s mind drifted back to her earlier concern. Should Thomas not live to see his child—if they had indeed created one just now—perhaps that would also be part of God’s plan, as it had been for his ancient ancestor. She gazed at the man’s face in the tapestry, so like her husband’s, and was strangely comforted. Perhaps, as Thomas had said, everything would, in the end, be all right.

Chapter Sixteen

Faint streaks of pink heralded the dawn as Thomas walked the dueling ground for the third time that morning. As the duel was taking place on private property, they technically hadn’t needed to set the appointed time for dawn. No one would disturb them, no constable or Bow Street Runner was going to storm in and break up the proceedings. Thomas had, however, wanted to maintain the traditional time of dawn for the duel, mainly because he simply wished to have the whole affair over with. For all their sakes, but especially for Honoria. He didn’t want her worrying one minute more than she needed to.

Geoffrey and Rochdale had duly met with Danford’s seconds yesterday afternoon in the neutral town of Cocking. As a point of form, Geoffrey had issued the challenge to Lord Danford’s seconds, even though Thomas himself had issued it directly two days before. Lord Brill and Sir William Knight had assured Geoffrey of Lord Danford’s sincere apology and shown them a sworn statement that he would henceforth abstain from all contact whatsoever with Lady Braeton. Thomas’s answer, however, to the question of his satisfaction had been a loudly resounding, “No.” He would discharge this matter only with the firing of his pistol.

Their shooting practice yesterday morning had gone a long way toward helping him make that determination. They had shot at the targets for more than an hour, and Thomas’s had been in tatters by the end. Each shot had scored a hit, only a few having strayed from the center of the circle. If he cleared his mind and focused on his opponent’s body, he doubted he’d miss.

As a result, Thomas’s peace of mind had risen to the point he’d been jovial at dinner and wildly aroused by Honoria’s charms in her bed last night. If all went well today, tonight he’d ask her to remove to the master chamber with him. If it did not, well, then he would sleep in a colder bed than previously. But he’d go to his grave knowing he’d done the best he could to put an heir in his nursery and leave some sort of comfort for his wife.

“Have you checked the pistols?” he called to Geoffrey, who stood to the side with Rochdale. Mr. Pratt had elected to wait in the carriage until Danford arrived. He’d join them all at the last moment so he could claim deniability should the matter come to trial.