Rogue's Honor (39 page)

"On a whim, and warned by a note I received
this morning—" he glanced at Pearl with a smile— "I thought to
bring these along. A good thing, as it turns out, is it not,
Uncle?" Luke asked almost pleasantly, taking the case from Marcus
and opening it to reveal a pair of antique duelling rapiers.

"Indeed. I've always been a traditionalist
—it's why you found these at Hardwyck Hall. A pity your generation
no longer trains with the sword as a matter of course." Knox seized
one of the rapiers and swung it expertly over his head, then
practiced a few feints.

Luke's dangerous smile never wavered as he
picked up the other sword. "Perhaps that advantage will help to
compensate for your advanced years —the years you denied my
father."

Pearl watched the proceedings with growing
horror, sorry she had spoken before. A fistfight would have been
far preferable to this! "Luke, please." Somehow she had to stop
this.

"I'm sorry, Pearl," Luke said, never taking
his eyes from his adversary. "This is something I have to do. One
way or another, the past must be put to rest."

Lord Marcus closed the sword case and stepped
back. At his word, the two antagonists saluted each other with
their weapons, and then the fight began. Not a person there doubted
that it would be to the death, could either of them achieve that
end— though Pearl was the only spectator who fully understood
why.

The two men circled each other slowly, each
feeling out the other's defenses, taking the time to prepare a
strategy.

"Even if you best me, Uncle, you won't regain
the earldom, you know," said Luke conversationally, feinting to the
left, then the right, watching how the other man parried. "The Duke
of Oakshire knows of your crimes, as does the Prince Regent. To
allow you to profit might encourage other ambitious younger
brothers."

Knox parried again, then thrust low— an
illegal stroke, but one that Luke easily diverted with his own
rapier. "If I cannot profit, neither shall you," he said. "Robbery
sets a poor example as well, wouldn't you say, Saint?"

If he expected the accusation to startle Luke
into a mistake, he was disappointed. Luke waited his chance, then
thrust high, forcing Knox back a pace as he parried.

"Who is the more guilty?" Luke asked
musingly. "A man who steals, or the murderer who drives him to it?"
He was watching Knox's eyes now, as well as his chest. Both
telegraphed his next move, a vicious lunge that would have impaled
Luke through the heart had he not stepped aside at the last
moment.

"So you admit your guilt?" Knox demanded, his
exertions now limiting him to shorter sentences.

Luke was quick to take advantage of the older
man's inferior conditioning. "I admit nothing," he replied,
circling and feinting, forcing Knox to move more and more rapidly
to avoid the tip of his blade. "However, it ill behooves a man who
kills his brother and leaves his brother's wife and child for dead
to show such belated concern for how that child made his way in an
unfriendly world."

"Concern? Hardly that." Knox was breathing
heavily now, beads of sweat tricking down his brow. He attempted
another vicious thrust, this time at Luke's throat, as his temper
overcame his judgment.

Luke brought his own blade across and down,
nearly snapping the tip of Knox's sword as he forced it toward the
ground. "No concern from my nearest relative? Uncle, you wound
me."

"I'll wound you and more." Knox took a pace
back, then lunged forward, madness again raging in his eyes. "I
spent twenty years and more building the name and fortune of
Hardwyck to what it is now. No upstart street thief is going to
destroy that."

As he spoke, he drove his rapier straight at
Luke's chest, ignoring everything else in his determination to kill
the man he blamed for his humiliation. Unable to dodge, Luke
brought his blade up, deflecting the deadly thrust even as Knox's
own momentum drove Luke's sword home.

Knox stared down in shock for a moment at the
crimson stain spreading across his white shirt and embroidered
waistcoat, then dropped to his knees. "Damn you, and damn your
father before you," he gasped. "You're not worthy of the Hardwyck
name."

Luke withdrew his blade and watched
impassively as his uncle crumpled to the ground. "No, you have
damned yourself. My father and mother are finally avenged. I may
not be worthy, but I am Hardwyck, and I will uphold the honor of
that name for as long as I live." He spoke it as a vow, and was
stunned to realize he meant every word.

The surgeon hurried forward now, and Luke
stepped back to allow him to do what he could. Marcus handed him a
handkerchief, and he used it to wipe first his brow, then his
blade. Finally he turned to Pearl, who still stood with one hand at
her throat, so pale that he thought she might faint.

"He's dead, my lords," the surgeon
announced.

"Is it true?" Marcus asked, glancing down at
the fallen Knox, then back to Luke. "Did he actually kill your
father?"

Slowly, Luke nodded. "He did. And as you can
see, he was unrepentant to the last."

Marcus, of course, did not mention Knox's own
accusations —nor did the others, to Luke's relief.

"We'll have to notify someone, I suppose."
Now that it was all over, Luke felt a wave of weariness wash over
him, weighing his limbs and numbing his brain. He swayed, but Pearl
was suddenly at his side, supporting him.

"We'll go to my father," she suggested. "He
will know what steps must be taken."

No one had any objection to this plan, so
leaving the surgeon to tend to the body and Lord Ribbleton to tend
to Bellowsworth, Luke followed Pearl and Marcus to the horses.

"Can you ride?" asked Pearl in obvious
concern when they reached their mounts.

Shaking off his weariness with an effort,
Luke nodded. "I am unhurt. I won't deny that it has been a long
morning, however." Nor was it over, by any means. The full
implications of what had happened here had yet to be sorted
out.

Pearl smiled up at him, and he felt his
strength returning. "Come then. Let's go home."

* * *

Riding back to Oakshire House, Pearl watched
Luke anxiously. Whatever life he had led, whatever duels he had
fought in the past, killing his own uncle must have affected him
profoundly. She had never seen him look so weary as he had when the
surgeon pronounced Knox dead.

Now, however, he sat his horse well, handling
the reins with perfect competence. By the time they halted, his
color had returned and he looked much as he always did, if rather
more serious than usual.

The Duke was at home, to Pearl's relief. She
had never had a chance to speak with him yet, as he had returned
too late last night for an audience with her. This promised to be a
lengthy interview —and a startling one, for her father. She hoped
he would not be too upset.

"Now, what is all this?" the Duke asked,
joining them in the library after only a few minutes. "Upwood gave
me to understand that there was a matter of some urgency?" He
pinned Luke, Lord Marcus and Pearl alternately with his keen gray
eyes.

"Yes, Father, it's—" Pearl began, but Luke
stood and silenced her with an upraised hand.

"Your grace, I have just killed the man who
previously styled himself Lord Hardwyck —my uncle." His voice was
nearly emotionless, but Pearl, alert to his every nuance, could
hear an undercurrent of sadness and resignation.

"Indeed!" the Duke exclaimed. "Are you
confessing to a murder, lad?"

Pearl started to her feet, but again Luke
waved her to silence. "There was a duel, your grace, and though its
beginning was somewhat unconventional, it was conducted before the
usual witnesses. Whether or not the circumstances exonerate me, I
will leave it to you— and perhaps a jury —to decide."

The Duke now turned his eye on Lord Marcus.
"You were his second?" he asked.

Marcus nodded. "I was, your grace, and I can
state unequivocally that Knox gave Luke— Lord Hardwyck —no choice
in the matter. He had already attempted murder on his own account,
and threatened your daughter, the Lady Pearl, as well. Lord
Hardwyck acted from the highest motives, to protect her as well as
himself."

"Is this true?" Her father regarded Pearl in
obvious alarm. "Knox involved you in this?"

"Yes, Father." She tried to speak calmly, but
her voice trembled at the memory of those few terrifying moments.
"Mr. Knox held me hostage with a pistol in an attempt to lure Luke
close enough to murder him. Luke— Lord Hardwyck— goaded him into a
challenge to induce him to release me unharmed."

The Duke turned back to Luke. "Then I have
much to thank you for, it appears. Not only have you rid the land
of a dangerous criminal, something I'd have preferred to have done
when the truth first came to light, but you have kept my most
precious possession from harm. You have my gratitude, Lord
Hardwyck, and I will do everything in my power for you."

Luke still stood, facing him. "Everything,
your grace?"

"I have said so. What is it you wish me to
do?"

"Grant me your daughter's hand in marriage,"
he replied without hesitation, "should this current matter be
settled to your satisfaction."

The Duke blinked, looking from Luke to Pearl
and back. "You have discussed this with her, I presume?"

Though nearly as startled as the Duke, Pearl
rose to stand beside Luke, placing her hand in his. "Yes, Father.
It is my dearest wish as well."

"I won't deny I have suspected a partiality
for some time," the Duke conceded. "But what of Bellowsworth?"

"He has relinquished his claim on my hand,"
Pearl replied. "He has no wish to make me unhappy by persisting in
his suit. I know it will occasion some trouble, as well as much
talk, as the papers have been drawn up and announcements published,
but—"

Her father waved that aside with one large
hand. "Paperwork and gossip are of no consequence if your happiness
is at stake, my dear. I only wish to be certain that it is what you
really want."

"It is," she assured him fervently. She
squeezed Luke's hand, and he returned the pressure, sending a wave
of warmth and security through her.

"Then let's settle this other matter as
expeditiously as may be, so that we can move on to more cheerful
concerns. Who were the other witnesses?"

Luke replied, "In addition to Lord Marcus and
Lady Pearl, there was a surgeon, Mr. Carter, as well as Lord
Bellowsworth and Lord Ribbleton, who acted as his second."

The Duke's heavy brows rose. "There is quite
a tale connected with this, I perceive. Tell me all, from the
beginning, and then we will summon the others to corroborate your
story. If they are able to do so, I see no need to bring this
before the magistrate.

Luke and Pearl took their seats, and Luke
proceeded to recount the chain of events leading up to Knox's
death. He omitted only the circumstances that had led to his
challenge of Bellowsworth, instead implying that his emotions had
bested his judgement during an argument.

By the end of the day, all was settled.
Bellowsworth, who had suffered a mere scratch on his forearm,
formally renounced his claims and fully corroborated Lord
Hardwyck's story, as did the other witnesses. The Duke wrote
everything down, including his opinion that the matter be
considered closed.

Before Luke took his leave late that
afternoon, Pearl led him out into the garden for a few private
words, though the day had become overcast.

"A fit setting," Luke commented, looking
around him at the roses. Then he took Pearl by the hand, his
expression serious. "Well, my love, save for the formalities, it
appears our future is all but assured. If you are having second
thoughts about wedding a man with my history, now is the time to
express them."

"No second thoughts," she replied with a
smile. "Unless, of course, you are only marrying me to buy my
silence? Now that the others have given their statements, it
appears I am the only one you need fear might identify you as the
notorious Saint of Seven Dials." Though she spoke playfully, a tiny
doubt, a remnant of earlier fears, arose as she spoke.

It appeared he was aware of it. "I would turn
myself in at once rather than risk you believing that, Pearl. Would
you like me to confess it to your father?"

His seriousness alarmed her. "No! Of course
not." Not caring how brazen she appeared, she moved closer, putting
her hands on his shoulders, tilting her face up to invite his kiss.
"I know I have always sought to control everything in my sphere, to
include you, Luke. But I want you to know that I am trying to
reform. My recent attempts at control have had some rather
disastrous consequences."

He lowered his lips to hers for a lingering
kiss that promised a lifetime of delights. "And some rather
charming ones, as well," he reminded her a moment later. "I have no
wish to change you, Pearl. Your strength of will and your quick
mind are among the things I admire most about you."

"How curious. I was about to say the same
thing of you."

Now he grinned. "As long as we share common
goals, we should deal very well indeed, don't you think?"

"I do. Right now, my goal is to be wed as
soon as may be, so that we can pursue other, ah, goals freely. Dare
I hope you share it?"

He answered her with another kiss,
demonstrating his desire in the only way he could, given their
surroundings.

* * *

Nearly three weeks passed before Pearl and
Luke exchanged vows in the ivy-covered chapel at Oakshire —the day
after her twenty-first birthday. In drawing up the marriage
settlements, Luke himself had insisted on the date, to safeguard
Pearl's holdings. The Duke had been surprised at a second request
he had made, but had agreed readily enough.