Page 37 of The Ruin of Miss Amelia Burrowes

“He doesn’t know me or my nature, my love.”

“And likely judges all other men by his own proclivities.” Lord Haversham came forward, having retired to the window seat while Nathan broke the horrible news to her. “But now he has been hoisted by his own petard.”

Amelia frowned and cocked her head at her husband’s friend. “I beg pardon, my lord?”

“A phrase from Shakespeare, my lady.” He grinned at her. “It means to be caught or harmed by a plan you’ve made to hurt someone else. In this case, Burke was trying to hurt you and Nathan but had no way of knowing his conversation with Fanon had been overheard by someone—he swears up and down he didn’t intend for that to happen—and subsequently published in the paper.”

“Burke’s face became pasty white when he opened the door on us. I suspect he’d expected me to appear the day after he spoke to Fanon, but he chose his vehicle badly. Fanon’s not a gossip, by any means. He either believed the lie to be just that or supposed if I was fool enough to have taken up with a woman with a reputation, I got what I deserved.” He kissed Amelia’s hand, and the familiar warmth his touch always brought finally resurfaced. “And in that, he would be totally correct.”

“And did Mr. Burke accept your challenge?”

“He was…reluctant, my lady.” Haversham chuckled. “But in the end, he couldn’t quite stomach the idea of being branded a coward and did indeed agree to the duel.”

“I will say I am surprised he did.” Amelia set her lips in a thin line. She’d had her fill of Mr. Lawrence Burke, especially now he was threatening the life of the man she loved so deeply. But much as she understood and feared the possibility of a truly horrific outcome—one she could scarcely allow herself to contemplate without going to pieces—she must let her husband know, with an unequivocal certainty, that she trusted and supported him in this decision. “Although I cannot say I’m sorry.”

Her husband jerked his head toward her, as did Lord Haversham, astonishment on both their faces. “Amelia, I thought you’d be more distressed at the prospect of my fighting in this duel.”

“Oh, but I am, my dear.” She clutched his arm, the fear she’d experienced the moment he’d announced the challenge returning full tilt. “I would be devastated if anything untoward happened to you.” Especially at the hands of that worm, Burke. “But knowing the circumstances, I have to say that I agree with you,” she swallowed hard, “wholeheartedly.”

Nathan and Lord Haversham exchanged puzzled glances. “Agree with what, Amelia?”

“That you must meet Lawrence Burke on the field of honor.”

She appreciated the shocked look on their faces—she was shocked to hear herself say it. But she also knew Nathan well enough now to understand he would consider himself a coward if he did not challenge the man. And Mr. Burke certainly deserved his fate at her husband’s hands for what he had done to her and her family. If this scandal was not laid to rest quickly, not only her own reputation, but those of her sisters, Nathan, and any children they might have would be in jeopardy.

“I love you, Nathan.” That was a difficult admission to make in front of Lord Haversham, but she must make her husband understand. “More than I have ever loved any other person. Were the stakes in this not so high, I would never wish to put your life in danger. But as you are the most honorable of men, I know you are making the right decision for us and our family.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “You fight on the side of right, my love, so I believe with all my heart you will prevail.”

With reluctance, Amelia let him go. She gave herself a little shake, then, in need of a distraction, she felt the teapot and rang the bell for the footman. “Some more tea, George. This has grown cold.”

But not as cold as the current state of her heart.

****

The dawn sky had just turned a warmer shade of pink when Nathan and Marcus arrived in Marcus’s carriage at the secluded area near the duck pond in Hyde Park where most duels were fought. His friend had insisted they use his conveyance in the event they were discovered by the constabulary, as it might make it a tad more difficult to ascertain who the combatants were if his coat of arms wasn’t emblazoned on the black lacquer door. Nathan had not put up a fight. He’d been too focused on the one about to commence.

He’d never been one to dwell on the unpleasant thought of death—until now. Not that he had any premonition about the upcoming duel nor any doubts about the necessity of it. However, now that he literally had everything to live for, in the back of his mind was the very real worry that he was about to lose it all for the folly of a weak man who should actually be horsewhipped rather than accorded the dignity of a clean and honorable death.

What had made the past three days bearable—the interminable waiting had threatened to drive him mad—had been Amelia’s steadfast belief that he was doing the correct thing. She never expressed a single doubt, never begged him to turn from the challenge, never gave him cause to doubt that his decision to call out Mr. Burke was anything but just and right. Her presence in his bed had, as well, soothed and assured him that should the worst come to pass and Burke’s aim prevailed, there was every hope he’d be leaving an heir to carry on in his place. They had seemed to spend every waking moment in each other’s embrace and if his delightful wife wasn’t currently increasing, it was certainly not for the lack of trying.

Nathan sighed at the memory of their last joining, just before midnight, when his very spirited wife had managed to roll them so he was suddenly underneath her, gazing up at her beautiful face as she proceeded to pleasure him in ways he could scarcely describe. The image of her sitting atop him, her long hair shimmering around her shoulders, her magnificent breasts bouncing every time he thrust into her made him hard this instant. He shook his head, trying to get that erotic picture out of his head. If he didn’t focus on the coming battle, that exquisitely fulfilling encounter would be his last.

“Burke’s arrived.” Marcus nodded to a non-descript hack that had pulled over onto the grass not far from them. “Shall we?”

With a curt nod, Nathan rose and exited the vehicle, breathing in the fresh morning air and setting his countenance into stern lines. Never give your opponent the slightest idea that you had doubts. Confidence was your ally.

Marcus stepped down beside him, the rosewood box that held Nathan’s matched set of dueling pistols in his hands. He’d never had cause to use them until now, although he’d practiced with them regularly for years. One never knew when the skill would be needed, and that instinct to be prepared for just this eventuality might be the advantage that tipped the whole thing in his favor. “Go do your duty as second.”

He nodded to a gentleman accompanying Burke, who looked around, wide eyed as an owl.

“Ah, that is Mr. Franklin. We met day before yesterday when I gave him your demands for satisfaction.” Marcus chuckled. “I’m not certain whether he was more appalled by your list or his position as second. I rather believe he may flee the scene before we can commence.”

“Burke doesn’t seem much better.” The gentleman who’d caused so much grief to Amelia stood there, pale as pastry, staring at him as though Nathan were the devil himself. Well, there was nothing wrong with that. “Good morning, Burke. Mr. Franklin.”

Nathan’s voice, loud in the calm morning air, made Burke start.

“Good morning, my lord.” The challenged man bowed to him then turned toward Marcus, growing more nervous by the moment. “My lord.”

“Good morning, Burke.” Marcus sounded as loud as the last trumpet. “Mr. Franklin, a word, sir, if you please.”