Virginia Henley (25 page)

“Someone’s shooting at us!”

Charlotte gave a squeaky scream as Tony grabbed the girl’s reins and dug her heels into her horse to make it gallop. They thundered off in the direction of the river and didn’t slow until Georgiana’s party came into view. The girl looked as frightened as Tony felt inside. To reassure Charlotte she said, “Probably someone poaching game. Stay close to the others and I’ll go and report the bloody fool.”

Tony’s fear diminished as her anger grew. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind who had been shooting at her. She had to make Adam Savage believe that Bernard Lamb was trying to kill her. How dare he put her at risk by inviting the evil bastard to Edenwood?

Tony clattered into the long stable and turned the horse over to a groom. She was just about to go in search of Savage when she heard a low, deep laugh coming from one of the box stalls. She recognized it immediately. It was followed by a seductive feminine voice and an intimate laugh.

Tony strode to the box stall, almost blinded by a red mist of anger. What she saw over the top of the half-door stopped her dead in her tracks. Savage, his back covered in bits of straw, was offering his hand to Angela Brown, who reclined brazenly in the hay. Savage helped her to her feet and drawled, “I told you we’d be discovered. I suppose we should be thankful it was Tony and not Bernard.”

“My cousin was too busy stalking me in the woods!”

Adam did not believe for one minute that Bernard posed any sort of threat to Tony. His ward was a little spoiled because of his money and disliked Bernard simply because he was poor. Tony was almost preoccupied with the notion that his cousin was out to harass him.

“Tony, for God’s sake, you’re obsessed,” Savage said with disgust.

Tony swept the actress with an angry look of contempt. She was wearing the most flamboyant outfit of red and yellow. If anyone else had dressed this way, she would have been carted off to Bedlam. On Angela it looked stunning.

“How’s the ankle?” Tony asked sarcastically.

With a straight face Adam replied, “Having just examined it thoroughly, I can assure you it’s good as new.”

Angela gave him a saucy sidelong glance and dusted the straw from her skirts.

“Good,” Tony flung, “she won’t have to spend so much time on her back!”

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Savage demanded.

Bernard Lamb strolled toward them with an amused look on his face. “Silver spoon he was born with got lodged in his throat, perhaps.”

Adam and Angela laughed at the cruel remark.

Tony was incensed that Adam Savage stood with her enemy against her. She rushed at Bernard Lamb and slashed him across the face with her riding crop. “You son-of-a-bitch, if you want to shoot me, meet me at Battersea Fields and we’ll finish it! My seconds will be in touch with you.”

Tony turned on her heel and quit the stables.

Bernard Lamb held his neckcloth to his torn cheek, hurling vile curses after his titled cousin.

Adam Savage narrowed his eyes in thought, but he did not interfere. Something deeply disturbing was between these two young men and he would have to discover what it was. At the moment Tony’s rancor had boiled over and Savage knew he wouldn’t see reason until he’d had a chance to cool down. He was certain of only one thing. There would definitely be no duel!

He said to Bernard, “What’s between you is none of my business, but I regret he assaulted you while you were my guest. Come up to the house and have it tended.”

“It’s nothing … just a scratch,” Bernard insisted, and Savage couldn’t help but be impressed.

Tony went straight back to London with Roz. She sat up on the box with Bradshaw to avoid her grandmother’s questions. No hint of this trouble must reach Roz’s ears or she would forbid Tony from taking her revenge. She clenched her fists and shoved them deep into her pockets. She was certain of only one thing. There would definitely be a duel!

Antonia awoke in a deep sweat. It was the third night this had happened and the third night she had had the recurring dream. It took her a moment to realize that the time was nigh.

She threw back the covers and shivered as the cool predawn air touched her fevered skin. An autumn chill was in the air that she welcomed, for she would of necessity wear a long cloak to conceal her identity.

She moved silently in the dark so she would disturb no one. If Mr. Burke heard her, she was lost. Before she retired last night she had laid out her garments with care and even poured her wash water from the jug to guarantee silence.

She removed Anthony’s damp nightshirt, then buried her face in it as if she could gather strength from a garment he had once worn. She stood naked and shivering and whispered, “Tony, help me.”

A measure of calm resolve descended upon her. She was doing this to avenge her twin and also in sheer self-defense, for she knew with every fiber of her being that
Bernard Lamb was going to kill her if she did not take his life first.

With determination she lifted up the sponge to wash away the memory of the vivid dream that still clung about her tenaciously. It was always the same. They were on the dueling field just as dawn broke, counting, counting. Bernard Lamb always turned and fired on the count of nine.

Tony pulled on shirt, breeches, stockings, and boots with such steady hands, she surprised herself. She felt predestined to do this thing. It all had such an air of inevitability about it that she was calm even though she was afraid. She knew with a knowledge as old as time that her fate rested in her own hands. The conclusion was foregone. If she did nothing, she would lose. If she acted, she would win. That was the secret of everything, really. The secret of life and death.

Tony was grateful to Adam Savage. He had shown her that the most precious quality in life was courage. He had set out to make a man of her and he had succeeded. Tony had the guts of a man, the fortitude and the resolution of a man. Though she lacked a man’s strength she made up for it with a woman’s quick wits and intuition. Bernard Lamb didn’t stand a chance.

She had taken advantage of the fact that Adam Savage was tied to Edenwood and his weekend guests. She knew he had an appointment with the Prince of Wales and could not return to London until His Royal Highness had been entertained.

Tony had called on young Southampton and Colonel Dan Mackinnon, knowing their addiction to guns and shooting. They had been involved in many duels and of course Colonel Mackinnon had that superb collection of firearms. She swore them to secrecy and watched their excitement grow. Both were avid for risk and danger. Each time they acted as seconds their reputation grew, and now they were known as the Hellfire Bucks.

There was a set ritual that must be observed in the code
duello. So far, all was as it should be. The opponent holding the higher rank must issue the challenge. They would now call upon Lord Lamb’s opponent with the time and the place and allow him choice of weapons. There was little doubt it would be pistols; duels hadn’t been fought with swords in the last fifty years.

Mackinnon tucked a pistol case under Tony’s arm and recommended he take a little target practice at Charles Fox’s
tir.
Southampton gave him the address of his favorite brothel in Covent Gardens and told him to ask for Mrs. Cole. Every man should experience Jassy Cole before he died. Southampton was only having his dark little joke; it was understood that the opponents would not aim to kill, but merely try to render each other hors de combat. Tony took the colonel’s advice and ignored Southampton’s.

Sleep had been most elusive mainly because she dreaded the dream, so she had burned her candles late into the night pouring out her suspicions and her fears onto the pages of her journal. Upon rereading it she discovered she had catalogued more grievances against Savage than she had about her hated cousin. The ridiculous thing was that she admired almost everything about Adam Savage. The sticking point was his legion of women.

She finally faced it and admitted the truth. She was envious down to her very bones. She coveted him as she had coveted nothing before. She wanted him to make love to her. Longed for it; pined for it. Sex was slyly referred to as the Game and everyone she knew was a player. Men flaunted their mistresses while married ladies took secret lovers.

Society had an inexhaustible appetite for pleasures of the flesh and indulged in liaisons at any and every hour of the day or night. Every amusement was designed with coupling in mind. Brothels and bawdy houses stretched from Covent Garden to Shoreditch. Pleasure Gardens such as Vauxhall and Marylebone were specifically designed to pander to assignations in their grottoes, groves, and yew
walks. Then there was Ranelagh, up the river and up the social scale, but its theater continually staged sexual romps to titillate its audience before they slaked their appetites in private, recessed little supper alcoves.

Fireworks displays, badger baiting, and cock fighting were merely fashionable excuses to gather, pair off, and mate. It seemed to Tony that everyone was a club member but herself. Posing as a male had given her glimpses of what she was missing, but sex was still by and large a dark, mysterious temptation that left her wildly curious and deeply dissatisfied with her lot.

Rereading her journal shocked her into realizing she was obsessed with sex. Each night, she had blown out her candles convinced her dreams would be sensual fantasies; instead, each night she refought the duel.

Tony picked up the long black cloak and folded it over her arm. She would not wrap herself in it until she was on the flagstones of Curzon Street, just in case she tripped upon the stairs.

She crossed the street to avoid the light from the street-lamp on the corner. As she cut through Green Park it was still pitch-black. She heard men’s drunken laughter as a group of bucks left White’s Club in St. James’s, and she quickly crossed Stable Yard Road where Southampton was to pick her up in a hired hackney.

She glanced about but saw no waiting carriage. She pulled the cloak about her dry throat and swallowed her apprehension. Were they late or was she early? She had never been abroad at this hour before. The empty street seemed to have an eerie, echoing quality. Noises from the river carried to her on the damp air and she jumped as a cat slunk around the corner. Perhaps they wouldn’t come. Her imagination took flight. Savage had discovered her plans and put a stop to the duel! No, she assured herself, he didn’t suspect a thing. He had called upon her the moment he’d returned from Edenwood. His cutting words still echoed in her mind: “I haven’t time for your childish
theatrics, so I want your word as a gentleman you won’t carry this duel nonsense any farther.”

She had solemnly given him her word as a gentleman!

A black carriage turned the corner and Tony stepped out to the curb as Dan Mackinnon drew up the horses. Her heart pounded inside her ears as the door was flung open and an arm dragged her inside. One of the colonel’s polished pistol cases lay on the black leather seat and next to it sat a case holding flasks and small silver goblets.

“This is Keate, His Highness’s surgeon.”

Tony gave him a look of alarm. “I begged you to keep it secret.”

“Damn it, common sense demands the presence of a surgeon. Could save your life, Tony. Here, have a tiger frightener,” Southampton said, pouring whiskey.

Tony shook her head. “My hand is quite steady,” she gritted between her teeth.

Southampton shrugged and drained the silver cup himself.

The carriage ride was of such a short duration, Tony thought time had suddenly speeded up. In fact everything had a surrealistic aura about it and she caught herself wondering if she was still dreaming. As the carriage drew up with a sickening lurch she knew this was no dream.

Southampton thrust a black domino mask at her. “Here, put this on before you open the door and make sure you can see through it.”

“Why the devil do I have to wear this thing?” Tony demanded.

“Dear boy, it’s a necessary precaution. You do realize we could be arrested for what we do today? Though duels are tolerated, they are highly illegal.”

As Tony stepped out upon Battersea Field, a feeling of dread washed over her. Patches of mist swirled about in the darkness and the masculine smells of horses and leather made her nostrils pinch with distaste. She closed her eyes and wished … nay, she was damned if she
would wish that Bernard Lamb mightn’t show up. He would come. It was his big chance, his throw of the dice to take everything he wanted in one fell swoop. She would dispatch him to Hell!

In her heart she felt he had murdered her twin in cold blood, and in cold blood she would now murder him. In the open clearing a group of men were milling about and Tony strode toward them without hesitation. With steady fingers she undid the fastenings of the cloak and allowed Southampton to take it from her shoulders.

As in her dream the first fragile hint of dawn was lighting the sky as she waited for her seconds to finish their whispered consultation with the other masked men gathered. Mackinnon came to her and asked if she wished to withdraw. She was momentarily thrown off guard before she remembered it was all part and parcel of the code duello.

There was now sufficient light for the opponents to see each other. Mackinnon opened the gun case and the other second confirmed that they were loaded.

Two figures stepped forward to select a pistol. Two pairs of glittering eyes met through the slits of their masks. Their hatred for each other was palpable. Then they were being turned back to back. The Lamb cousins pointed their pistols skyward and cocked the triggers.

The drill was so familiar to Tony, she saw it all as if she watched herself from afar. She had lived these same few moments so often in her dream, she knew exactly what to expect. She paced off while the seconds were counting, counting. She turned on the count of nine and fired. Her opponent did the same. She smiled grimly as she saw that he faced her and shot at her exactly as she had known he would.

Tony had the deep, dark satisfaction of seeing him fall to the ground. Suddenly out of the dawn a big man was striding up to her. She blinked rapidly as a powerful hand
grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and propelled her to a waiting carriage.

A deep, furious voice promised, “I’m going to thrash you within an inch of your life.”

She was thrown against the fine calfskin squabs so hard, the wind was knocked out of her. Savage flung himself into the seat opposite and swore, “Your word as a gentleman isn’t worth a pinch of bat shit!”

Tony began to tremble uncontrollably and her teeth began to chatter. Reaction from the duel had set in. A filthy oath dropped from Savage’s lips as he pulled off his warm cape and flung it across at Tony.

“If you’ve killed him you’ll go to prison or possibly the gallows, you reckless young fool!”

Tony didn’t answer him. She hoped with all her heart that she had killed him, and yet prison would unmask her identity and the scandal would sweep London. She fiercely told herself that arrest would be worth it, at least she’d have the satisfaction of knowing Bernard Lamb would never take what rightfully should have been Anthony’s.

“You callous young devil,” Savage muttered.

Tony’s temper flared. “Don’t be a hypocrite! I acted exactly as you would act if someone threatened to take everything you owned. Every chance you get, you hammer home to me to be a man. Must I fight you too? Damn you, I will! I’ll take on the whole bloody world.”

Savage heard the righteous indignation, the determination, and the total conviction in Tony’s voice, and realized he was convinced that his actions had been necessary, even justified. Savage at least admitted that facing an enemy upon the field of honor took courage.

“I’m putting you aboard the
Flying Dragon,
then I’ll find out if your cousin is dead or just wounded. In either case you’ll have to leave the country for a while. I wasn’t planning to sail to the Continent until the end of the week, but you give me no option.”

The silence stretched out between them. Tony was
thankful for Savage’s strong presence. She had never felt more like crying in her life. If only she could cry on his shoulder and have him enfold her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. Her throat ached unbearably with unshed tears. Finally she managed to murmur huskily, “Thanks for standing by me, even though you’re not convinced of my motives.”

“Your father was my friend. I shall try to take his place.”

Tony wanted to scream at him that she didn’t want him for her father, but fortunately they were at the docks and the carriage drew to a stop.

When they boarded the clipper, the smell of tar filled their nostrils. The ship had been recaulked but the cabins had not yet been refurbished.

Savage told his crew they would sail for France on the evening tide and bade his storemaster victual the ship. Tony eyed the evil-looking seamen and repressed a shudder. Some she guessed were Lascars, some Genoese, others were English. She also guessed they were villains to a man.