Lord Rakehell (13 page)

She believes my father was the queen's lover! No wonder she avoids going to his country estate in Leicestershire.

“I was in love with a young man who was just a little older than me. I should have listened to him when he begged me to elope. He warned me that my mother would conspire with Queen Adelaide to marry me to the lord chamberlain, but I refused to believe him.”

“Who was he?”

Her mother hesitated. “He was a young officer in the army. He was immediately posted abroad, and I realized the queen and her chamberlain had a hand in it.” She shook her head sadly. “Darling, I've always regretted that I did not have the courage to take my happiness in my own hands and marry the man with whom I was so deeply in love.”

I wonder if you were lovers? I certainly hope you were.

•   •   •

At dinner, Anne noticed that Montagu looked preoccupied. His eyebrows were drawn together in a deep frown, which was unusual since her brother had a sunny nature.

She refrained from asking him questions in front of their parents, and decided to wait until the meal was over and she could get him alone.

After dinner their father went into his library, and their mother withdrew to her sitting room. Anne decided to question Montagu before he left the dining room.

“Did anything happen between John Claud and Fitz Kerry after I left?”

“No! Absolutely nothing. Why do you ask?”

Her brother's denial had come quickly . . . too quickly . . . and it raised a red flag. “Oh dear, they didn't come to blows, did they? John Claud hates my being friends with Fitz.”

“They didn't come to blows.” Montagu pressed his lips together.

“Well, something happened. You might as well tell me.”

Montagu hesitated, then blurted, “John Claud told Fitz that he was wasting his time dangling after you because you were going to be his wife. Fitz Kerry laughed at him.”

“That was the end of it?” Anne pressed.

Montagu said quickly, “Yes!” He bit his lip. “No.”

“Good God, it's like trying to get blood from a stone!”

When she said
blood
, her brother blanched.

“Anne, when Kerry laughed at John Claud, all hell broke loose!”

“So they
did
fight.”

“Not yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“They're going to fight at dawn tomorrow. John Claud challenged Fitz to a duel.”

“Don't be ridiculous!”

“It's true. John Claud asked me to be his second.”

“You may be an expert with a rifle, but you don't know anything about pistols.”

“It's to be rapiers,” he explained.

“Sword fights went out in the last century, you dolt.”

“No, they didn't, Anne. The three of us attend fencing classes together. Tempers get pretty hot sometimes. John Claud and Fitz have been sparring over you all summer. They are going to fight it out at dawn.”

“Where?” she demanded.

“The Round Pond in Kensington Gardens.”

“Idiot boys! They must be stopped.”

“I tried to talk sense into John Claud, but it's gone too far. Neither of them will back down.”

“I shall go to Kensington Gardens and stop the fools,” she said decisively.

“Your presence would make it worse. It would be like throwing oil on flames. If you were there to watch, their rivalry would intensify and their pride of manhood would demand satisfaction.”

“Well, someone must stop them. I shall go to John Claud's father.”

“You can't tell Abercorn. Think of the shame it would bring to John Claud to be forbidden by his father. It would make him feel like a child!”

“Think of the guilt that I'll feel if either of them wounds the other. You'd better get over to Hampden House and talk some sense into him.”

“I'll try, Anne. That's all I can promise.”

She walked to the top of the stairs with him and watched him descend, but the moment he closed the front door, she knew that her brother would fail to deter the dominant John Claud.
I'll go and tell Lady Lu what her son is up to. She will soon put a stop to his nonsense!

Anne hurried to her mother's sitting room. “Montagu and I are going round to the Hamiltons'.”

“Have a lovely evening, darling. Say hello to Her Grace for me.”

The minute Anne stepped out onto the pavement of Grosvenor Square, her steps faltered.
Telling John Claud's mother would be worse than telling his father.
It would reduce him to a naughty little boy.

She thought of James and knew immediately that if anyone could dissuade John Claud from his recklessness, it was his older brother.
Frances said he was going to Brussels.
Instinctively, she shied away from an encounter with James.
He's not going until September. It's only the end of August—he won't have sailed yet.

Anne knew it would take courage to go to Lord Hamilton's town house in White Horse Street and ask him to intervene. Her reticence had nothing to do with the impropriety of visiting a bachelor alone, at night. She didn't give a fig for proper rules of behavior. It was the thought of going to him as a supplicant that was distasteful.

Since the shame of being a coward was far worse than swallowing her pride, Anne stiffened her backbone and walked briskly toward Hanover Square, where she knew there was a hansom cab stand.

•   •   •

Anne's pulse began to race when the cab turned off Piccadilly onto White Horse Street, and stopped in front of the Georgian house on the corner. She stepped out and spoke to the driver. “Would you be good enough to wait for me?”

The cabman touched his cap and Anne walked up to the door and lifted the brass knocker. After three taps the door was opened by a male servant.

“I'm here to see Lord Hamilton,” she said breathlessly.

He opened the door wide. “May I tell his lordship who's calling, mistress?”

The servant, who had an Irish accent, gave her a knowing glance, and she was suddenly reluctant to give him her name. “I . . . I'd rather tell him myself.”

He rolled his eyes. “Have a seat, while I see if himself is free.”

James was in the library. He looked up from his desk. “Who is it, Grady?”

“Mrs. Currant Bread with a toffee on her head.”

James laughed and stood up. “You irreverent sod. I take it it's a lady.”

“Do ye know any ladies, m'lord?”

“Very few, thank God! You may show her up and make yourself scarce.”

“Don't I always, m'lord?”

James followed Grady from the library, and went into the drawing room to await his visitor. When he saw who his guest was, his eyes widened with surprised pleasure. “Anne! You finally came. My precious beauty, I am absolutely delighted.” He strode to the doorway where she stood tentatively and ushered her into the room.

Her mouth was dry and her heart was beating wildly at the sight of him. She licked her lips. “My lord . . . James . . . you won't be delighted when you know why I came.”

She looked so forlorn he wanted to enfold her in his arms. He resisted the impulse, took her hands, and searched her face. “Something's wrong. Tell me.” He could feel her hands quiver. “Come and sit down.”

He led her to a comfortable sofa and moved across the room to pour her a glass of claret. He handed it to her and sat in a leather chair facing her. “Drink up.”

Anne had two good swallows, then took a deep breath. “This will sound utterly preposterous. I want you to stop a duel.”

“A duel?”

“John Claud has challenged Fitz . . . Henry Fitzmaurice to a sword fight at dawn tomorrow. Montagu said they are meeting at the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens.

“I sent my brother to Hampden House to talk some sense into him, but John Claud is far too dominant and determined to listen to Montagu.”

James felt a pang of resentment that the two young men obviously fancied themselves in love with Anne. Yet he was the one she had come to for help.

“How did it start? Were you there when they quarreled?”

“After church, your sister and I were riding in the park when John Claud and Montagu arrived. Next thing I knew Fitz Kerry rode up and their rivalry started immediately. Your brother suggested a race, and when Kerry won, John Claud was furious. After I left, Montagu told me that John Claud informed Fitz that he was wasting his time, because he was the man I was going to marry. When Kerry laughed at him, that's when John Claud challenged him to a duel.”

“You fear that John Claud will be wounded?”

“I would be guilt-ridden if
either
of them were wounded! I came to you, because I believe you are the only one who can overrule John Claud.”

“You did the right thing, Anne.” His dark eyes caressed her face. “I'll take care of it.”

“Thank you so much, James. I was afraid you wouldn't take me seriously.”

He smiled. “John Claud's a Hamilton. There's a bit of a mad streak that runs through all of us.” Suddenly, James couldn't bear to see her leave. “I'll take you home.”

“I have a hansom cab waiting.” She flushed slightly. “I have no money to pay him.”

“I'll take care of it.”

They went downstairs and James opened the cab door and helped her inside. He told the driver to take them to Grosvenor Square, then climbed in and took the seat across from Anne.

In the enclosed cab, his compelling presence was overwhelming. They sat in silence until the driver turned off Piccadilly onto Park Lane; then James spoke. “Will you marry John Claud?”

I don't want to marry him. I want to marry you.
“He often talks about marriage, though he has never formally proposed to me. He simply takes it for granted that I will be his wife.”

“And will you be his wife?”

“I don't know. My parents totally approve of John Claud, but I refuse to let their choice influence my decision. He's a good friend, and I feel great affection for him, but his proprietary attitude exasperates me. Most likely that's because I have always vowed that I will choose my own husband.”

In the darkness, his mouth curved. “You are a free spirit. You don't want the man to do the choosing. Yet it's a man's world, and most accept that it's a man's choice.”

“It certainly was in my father's case. Mother had no say in the matter, but I intend to have a say. My husband will be
my
choice.”

When the carriage stopped, James jumped out and held the door open while she alighted. “Good night, Anne. You mustn't worry, I really will take care of the matter.”

“Thank you, James.”

•   •   •

When Fitz Kerry left his house in Berkeley Square an hour before dawn, James Hamilton was waiting for him. “Good morning, Lord Kerry. I'm here to save you the trouble of meeting my brother at the Round Pond.”

Kerry's brows drew together. “Lord Hamilton—did John Claud send you?”

“On behalf of my brother, I offer his apologies. The duel has been called off.”

“Perhaps by you, my lord, but not John Claud. He will be there, and so will I.”

“Do you not realize that if a duel were fought during the mourning period the queen has declared for her beloved Albert, it would bring the wrath of the monarchy down upon your head?”

Kerry raised his chin. “I'm willing to take the risk.”

Fitzmaurice had played his card and James had no option but to trump it. “Lord Kerry, it is considered bad form to accept a challenge from a man of lesser rank. Need I remind you that you are an earl of the realm?”

“Damn and blast!” The wind went out of Kerry's sails.

James nodded his thanks. “Good day, my lord.”

•   •   •

Dawn had just begun to lighten the sky when James Hamilton arrived at the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens. He saw his brother was there before him. He watched him remove his jacket and hand it to his friend Montagu. Then James stepped from the shadows. “Good morning.”

“What the devil are
you
doing here?” John Claud demanded.

“I came to tell you that Fitz Kerry won't be meeting you.”

“Damned coward!” He lowered the tip of his rapier to the ground. “Too bad the duel has to be called off. I was in the mood for a sword fight.”

“The duel hasn't been called off. You'll be fighting me.” James took off his coat, dropped it to the ground, and unsheathed his small sword.

“I'm not going to fight my brother.”

James's eyes narrowed. “You owe me, John Claud.” He brought the blade to his nose in the traditional salute. “First blood.” He advanced one step.
“En garde!”

Both brothers were tall and had a long reach, but James had a skill and quickness that John Claud lacked. As James began to thrust aggressively, his sibling was forced to parry. The blades slid against each other with a slithering, metallic sound, and John Claud retreated a step. He recovered, extended, and lunged. James caught his brother's blade and knocked it wide. Strong legs moved the men back and forth with agile speed. Then James began to advance, and a panting John Claud faltered for one split second. In a flash, James saw his opening and slid the tip of his rapier across his brother's forearm. He disengaged immediately as the sleeve of his brother's shirt turned red with blood.

“Are you satisfied?” John Claud demanded.

“I'll claim satisfaction when you stop bandying Lady Anne's name about.” James sheathed his sword, picked up his coat, and departed without a backward glance.

John Claud turned to Montagu. “I never thought Kerry would go sniveling to James.”

Montagu wasn't sure it was Kerry, but he decided not to confess to his friend that he'd told Anne about the duel. “Why on earth would James take Fitz Kerry's place?”