Page 29 of The Duke's Price
“Haven’t you heard, El Diablo?” Perry taunted. “IamDeath. I am, in point of fact, your death, for you threatened my wife.”
Another rush from Carlos. Another clash of arms. Another pause to examine the enemy and to breathe. Perry might just win this. Carlos had experience in sabre fighting, but little science. Furthermore, Carlos was out of practice and he had lethis fitness slip while lolling around on a throne pretended to be the ruler of Estrellas.
“You’ve grown podgy while you were planning to take over Estrellas as your own personal kingdom,” Perry observed. Carlos reddened and rushed him again. Perry met him, sabre crashing against sabre, feeling the sting through his hand but holding on as Carlos fell back, almost giving Perry an opening.
Almost. Not quite. Perry was saving the rapier move until he was certain he could connect.
“How did you find us?” he asked. “I thought we’d covered our tracks.”
Carlos drew off again, putting a distance between them so he could crow. It was a hopeful sign that he couldn’t fight and talk at the same time, so Perry let him. “It was easy. Iago found a canal man who was happy enough to sing like a little bird, and so he followed the canal, and sent me a messenger to bring me here, too.”
Poor canal man. El Lobo had a reputation for the methods he used to make people sing. The man was unlikely to have survived the experience. This time, Perry rushed Carlos, letting a little of the anger he felt past the barrier that allowed him to remain calm.
Carlos fell back, driven blow by blow around the circle that the watching crowd had formed. There! He had exposed his side with that swing.Watch for it, Perry. Watch for it. Four of five more loud rings as the swords met, and then Perry’s chance came, and as Carlos’s sabre swung in a great arc, he leaned out of its way then leapt forward, sabre point first, and thrust the weapon into Carlos’s chest.
Carlos dropped backward dragging Garcia’s sabre with him. Perry stood there, unarmed, and at that moment, Garcia gave a huge shout and flung the dagger he had been holding to Ruth’s throat. At the same moment, gunshots sounded.
Perry looked at the knife, standing out of the flesh of his shoulder.There should be pain. Is there pain?His knees suddenly folded, and he was lying on the boardwalk. Ruth was holding him, begging him to live. No. Scolding him. That was more like it. He chuckled. “Ruth, my dearest love, never change,” he said. “Even if I die.”
“You shall not die, Perran Albert Kendrick De-Ath Frampton,” she admonished. “You have called me your wife in front of all these people, and now you have to make good on it.”
He chuckled again. “I love you very much,” he said. “I never expected that to happen, Ruth.”
She had tears in her eyes. “And I love you, you impossible man.”
“Mrs. De-Ath, please move over while I see to your husband,” said the doctor, and Perry had little thought to spare for anything for the next short while, beyond Ruth’s hand in his and what the doctor was doing.
“You’ll do,” the doctor said, once he had checked that the knife appeared to have missed everything vital and had stitched up the wound. After that, Walter and Bella reported.
Bella and Walter had both shot at Garcia—and both had found their target in the man’s head. “A moment late, DeAth,” Bella said. “But we killed him.” After that, the Estrellasan men had turned on the Spaniards, with help not only from the canal men, but from a small troop of Bella’s soldiers, who had come from Las Estrellas, and the gendarmes to whom they had taken their story of a princess running from a usurper and a gang of guerillas loose in France.
Carlos’s remaining men were under arrest. And Carlos had already lost the kingdom. When Carlos left with his Spanish bullies, the bishop had sent for Madre Katerina, who had returned to rally the countryfolk behind their princess.
“Las Valle des Estrellas is mine again,” Bella said. “Will you come home with me to finish your recovery, Your Grace?
Ruth wanted to do so. Perry could tell. “Perhaps we could get married in your church,” he said. “Ruth would like you to be at her wedding, princess.”
“You, sir, are travelling nowhere until those stitches are out,” scolded his duchess, his darling, his dear delight.
EPILOGUE
TWO YEARS LATER, SHARDMORE BURKENSTONE, ENGLAND
“How did I not remember that this is awful,” Perry grumbled to those waiting with him in his library at Shardmore Burkenstone. Caspian raised an eyebrow in question. One of the best parts of returning to England was meeting his son, and discovering a mature and responsible young man who claimed not to blame Perry for a lifetime of running away.
“Childbirth,” Perry explained. “They throw us out and we do not know what is going on.”
“Just as well,” said Haverford, with a shudder. His old friend had been cautious at first, but once he’d come to see that Perry was truly a different and better man, he had welcomed Perry back to England. The duchess was initially polite to him for Ruth’s sake, and because Haverford asked her to give him a chance, but even she had warmed up to him in the past few months.
“When Sally was born, I was there,” Haverford explained to Caspian. “I do not recommend it. And they say that women are the weaker sex!” After seven years of marriage, Haverford’s wife had presented him with a daughter. Haverford was besotted.Perry would be happy with a daughter. Perry would be happy with any result that included Ruth safe and well.
“I will keep it in mind,” said Caspian, who was still unwed. Since he was twenty-seven, it was time for him to begin considering a wife, but Perry, who had made a mess of his first marriage and had not married again until he was forty-three, did not feel qualified to recommend the marriage mart to the young man.
Indeed, their relationship was more friendship than father-son. If Caspian had a father, it was Perry’s brother-in-law, the Earl of Garrick. Garrick, or Uncle Garrick, as Caspian called him, was cradling his brandy and saying little. Morwenna, Perry’s sister, was upstairs with the other women, attending Ruth.
“How long does this take,” Perry complained, striding across the room in another restless circuit.
Those who had children—Garrick, Haverford, and the Earl of Chirbury—all looked at him with pity. Chirbury—who had put his poor wife through this experience not once, not twice, but eight times—said, “As long as it takes, Richport.”
