Chapter Eighteen

Rebecca awoke alone. She sat up in her bed and turned her head to look out the window. Heavy drapes blocked her view, so she slid out of bed and padded naked across the room. She pulled on the cord, and the drapes opened to reveal a deep-gray sky. Dawn was less than an hour away, and he was gone. She had no doubt as to where her errant groom had hurried off. Any discussion of the future she had been so optimistic about would have to wait.

“Damn him,” she whispered. Rebecca hurried to her dressing room and threw on a gray and pink morning gown. She didn’t bother with her hair or morning ablutions. After slipping her feet into slippers and grabbing a shawl, Rebecca hurried from the chambers. She surprised Bentley as she came down the stairs. “Where has he gone?”

The butler’s eyes slid from hers. “Lord Hanover will return later in the morning, madam.”

“Bentley, tell me where he has gone.”

“I do not know.”

She snorted. “Where do men do their dueling?”

His brow furrowed. “I was instructed—”

She stamped her foot. “Tell me, Bentley.” Tears streamed down her face, and she let them, seeing his concerned expression.

He sighed. “Plouder’s Field is where these things usually happen.”

“Fetch Henry.”

“Yes, m’lady.” He bowed and hurried to the servants’ quarters. It was close to ten minutes before he reappeared.

Rebecca paused in her frantic pacing. “Well?”

“The coach awaits you.”

She pulled a pelisse from the rack on her way out the door and ran to the coach. Henry clambered down from his perch and opened the door for her, tipping his hat. “Plouder’s Field,” she said in a rush.

“Yes, Lady Hanover.”

“And quickly. You will be handsomely rewarded if we arrive before dawn. I shall see to it personally when we return home.”

His tone was more energetic this time. “Yes, ma’am.”

* * * * *

Henry must have driven the horses close to their breaking point, for they arrived at Plouder’s Field less than fifteen minutes later. He climbed down and opened the door for her. “This journey usually takes thirty minutes, m’lady.”

She nodded, unable to speak because of the nausea churning in her stomach. Their hell-bent ride over rough streets and rougher paths had left her feeling close to death. She stepped down from the carriage to scan the field.

It was more a glen than a field. A lush growth of mature trees surrounded a cleared area of squelching mud and thin grass. Birds chirped from their perches, unaware of the feel of death surrounding the place.

Her eyes fell on a coach and its horse beside two saddled horses tied to a tree nearby. Rebecca lifted the skirt of her morning dress and rushed across the clearing. The mud sucked at her slippers, but she pulled her way through.

As she approached, she saw four men, divided into pairs, standing several yards apart. An older gentleman, wearing a dark suit, stood off to the side. He held a black bag. Rebecca watched as Alex and the young man from his office lifted what appeared to be a box from the ground. Alex took something from inside and then turned to face the other two men, who were engaged in something she couldn’t see from this angle.

“Alex,” she called out as she ran toward him. His head whipped around, and even from the distance between them, she could see the anger in his eyes. She ignored a shiver of trepidation and hurled herself forward. She would have fallen into the mud if Alex’s arms hadn’t been there to catch her. She touched his face. “Oh, Alex. Please do not do this.”

He pushed her away, causing her arm to return to her side. “I have issued a challenge. I cannot back down, Rebecca. You should not be here.”

She shook her head. “I beg you not to do this.”

Alex’s brow furrowed. “Why is it so important to you? Do you know what will be said if I do not uphold my honor?”

Rebecca twisted the ruby ring on her finger. “I would rather have them call you a thousand names while you live than have them admire your bravery while you molder in the ground.”

He sighed. “I shall be fine. You will return home now.”

She shook her head. “I shan’t leave without you.”

“Do not defy me, wife.”

“Do not widow me, husband,” she retorted in an equally angry tone. Tears came to her eyes. “I could not bear to lose you.”

His expression softened. “What?”

Rebecca bowed her head. “I love you, Alex. Please come home with me.”

Alex sighed again. “I cannot.”

She lifted her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I see.” Rebecca turned from him to walk toward the doctor.

“Wait.”

She turned around, quirking a brow.

“Where are you going?”

“To watch your duel.” She tilted her chin. “Though it is evident your honor means more to you than I do, I cannot leave until I know the outcome.” She turned her back on him again, walking with her spine stiff. She jumped with surprise when his hand fell on her arm. She stopped walking and looked up at him through the veil of her ebony lashes.

“Very well.” Alex took her in his arms. “If it truly means that much to you—”

She threw herself against him, burying her face against the scratchy wool of his brown jacket. “It does, m’lord.”

“Bradleaf,” Alex called across the field. “I will not fight you.”

He snickered—a cruel sound that carried across the distance, sending shivers down Rebecca’s spine.

“Have you turned to a coward as well as a fool, Hanover?”

She felt Alex stiffen, and she clutched handfuls of his coat. “Walk away, darling.”

He relaxed a bit. “I have promised my wife not to partake of this foolishness.”

“What will they say of you?” Bradleaf and his companion laughed harder.

“I care not.” Alex looked down at her, smiling. He brushed a lock of hair off her face. “I have made my choice,” he shouted back.

Rebecca heard footsteps behind them and turned partially to see Bradleaf approaching. He held a pistol, but at his side, with the barrel pointed toward the muddy ground. She glared at him as he stopped a few feet from them.

“If she is that important to you, of course I release you.” He bent forward slightly at the waist. When he straightened, he turned and started back to his companion.

Rebecca turned back to Alex, cupping her hands around his face. “Thank you, m’lord.” She frowned as she realized his tender expression was vulnerable, plainly revealing his emotions. “Alex?” Could it be true? Was she reading love in his eyes?

“Do you love me, Rebecca? Truly?”

“Aye, I have since I found the necklace.”

His mouth twisted into a strained smile. “I lied to you, dearest. Your father’s debts exceeded the value of the cargo by several thousand dollars. I was within my rights to claim your heirloom too.”

She frowned up at him. “Why did you not, husband?”

His arms tightened around her, and he dropped the pistol on the ground. “I had already claimed the most valuable prize onboard the Margaret.” He lowered his head to kiss her, whispering against her lips, “You.”

Rebecca melted against him, returning his kiss passionately. A loud bang rang through the early morning air, interrupting their embrace. Suddenly, she stiffened and cried out. “Alex?” She frowned at him in confusion as a terrible pain in her shoulder swept through her body. Her head spun, and her legs refused to support her.

“Rebecca?” He sounded frantic as he spun her around in his arm. A choked sound emerged from his throat.

“What is it?” She felt light-headed and numb. If not for the aching in her arm and shoulder, she might have thought it was all a dream.

“He shot you,” Alex said in a thick voice.

She felt him lower her to the ground and saw him reach for the pistol lying near his shoe. Her mouth formed the words to ask him not to, but she lost consciousness before she could speak them.