Page 91 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke
“And ifIam the victor?” Charles asked.
“Our apologies in public to you,” Jacob declared.
“And a signed letter, forgiving all of my debts to you and your brother,” Charles added boldly.
There was a moment's pause during which the brothers looked at each other.
“Very well,” Isaac said while Jacob nodded curtly.
Emma felt Damien take her arm, pulling her back from the sphere of the duel. She reached for Charles and managed to pluck at his sleeve before she was pulled away.
“No!” she hissed fiercely, “I wish to be with my brother!”
“And you would only hinder him and probably get him killed!” Damien whispered furiously, “Be still and let him do his duty!”
Emma rounded on him, putting her face close to his.
“This is not duty! It is something men have contrived and calledhonor. Something to do with proving that they are men. Duty is marrying a stranger to save one's family. Duty is caring for one's brother even when his wishes are that he be left in a cold tower to die!”
Anger bubbled within her like the throat of a volcano. It was stoked by the conditions that Harold Fitzgerald had ended up in, whether or not of his own volition.
Damien glanced around and Emma realized the danger of speaking the wrong words in front of Isaac and Jacob. Fortunately, they had not heard. Both men watched Charles with the expression of snakes observing their prey. For his part, Charles was absorbed in carefully loading his pistol and cocking it.
“I obeyed my brother,” Damien whispered fiercely, “I did not want to leave him in that place but he would have it no other way.The Duke of Redmane must be strong,he said.A man of such poor health and sickly frame as I would never be accepted by the Regent, he said. I wanted no part of it. All I wanted was to be free to...”
His mouth clamped shut and he looked away, jaw clenched.
“Free towhat?” Emma demanded. “Live the life of a rake, perhaps? Free of yourdutyand responsibility?”
“I have never shirked from duty!” Damien snapped. “My only wish was to seek justice in…”
Again, he seemed to realize that he had said too much. He gritted his teeth and then ground them when Isaac turned to them.
“I would ask for silence or that you withdraw if you must chatter so.”
Emma flushed. Charles stood with his back to his opponent and eyes closed. Sir Thomas seemed to be praying.
And Damien and I stand here quarreling. I am a terrible sister.
She stood in silence and felt the icy talons of fear digging into her flesh. She wondered if this were not the reason she had continued to argue with Damien, an effort to fill her mind with something other than what was about to happen.
“Let us be about this business without further delay,” Charles said in a quavering voice.
“We cannot until our referee arrives,” Jacob noted. “It cannot be me or any of your seconds. It must be someone who is neutral in this disagreement.”
Emma closed her eyes, feeling sick. She went to clasp her hands together and found Damien reaching for one. Opening her eyes, she looked up at him. Their quarrel was forgotten as he squeezed her hand. There was strength there and resolve. She bit her lip and squeezed back.
“Who is to be the neutral referee?” Damien asked.
“Why, His Royal Highness the Prince Regent of course,” Isaac replied.
At that moment, the rattle of horse hooves reached them. Many horses. Emma turned to see a procession arriving bearing torches to dispel the mist and light the pre-dawn twilight. In the middle of these riders was the Prince Regent. Turning away his escort, he approached the last few yards alone and dismounted, waving away the bows and curtsy that greeted him.
“I say, we all have things we'd rather be doing this morning, so let us get this show on the road, eh? Either the rapscallion debtor will pay with his blood for his behavior or the insult ceases to be and all is forgiven, yes? On with it.”
There was a moment of awkward silence during which the Regent looked around expectantly. Then, Damien broke the silence.
“Your Highness? You are to start the duel, as the referee.”
