Page 57 of The Duelist for the Ton
“Have a care,” she whispered. “Say nothing, lest you reveal yourself.”
“Steady on, Foxton, old chap,” Sir Heath said. “The Farthing may be a whore, but he’s a damned useful one. His aim is as useful as Lady Francis’s cunny, which we’ve all enjoyed to the full. I’d rather he were left unscathed.”
“But perhaps not anonymous,” Adam said. “We should reveal his identity.”
Portia’s gut tightened with knots of fear, and she stepped back.
“I say, old chap,” Lord Francis said, “there’s no call for that sort of talk. A gentleman would never act so dishonorably.”
Despicable creatures, all of them! They thought nothing of making bawdy remarks about Lady Francis and sharing her among themselves as if she were a cut of beef—but the notion of unmasking a duelist was considereddishonorable?
It would serve them right if she revealed herself, let them know they’d been bested at their own game by a member of the so-called weaker sex.
Adam paused, his gaze fixed on her. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to one side.
“Do I know you?” he said.
Portia dug her nails into her palms to stop the tremors in her body. Then her brother let out a snort of derision.
“Most likely you’re some footman eager to earn a few extra coins. Does your master know where you are?”
Portia shook her head. Her brother grinned, revealing sharp white teeth. She’d always known him to be a rake, but how had she not noticed until now how much of an air of menace he carried about him?
Heaven help the women who fell for his charms.
As to the woman who became his duchess, whoever that unfortunate soul would be… Not even the Almighty and all His angels would be able to helpher.
Was this how all men behaved? Whitcombe, Staines…
Surely not Stephen?
No…
Adam gave a slow, lazy smile, his savagely handsome face giving a predatory air that women found irresistible, though it was a manifestation of the blackened soul within.
“Do I discompose you, Mr. Farthing?” he sneered. “Perhaps my friends and I ought to rouse our households on our return tonight to see who’s missing?”
Using her fury to conquer her fear, Portia stared her brother straight in the eye.
His eyes were the same shape and shade of blue as hers, enough to cause a jolt of recognition, as if she were looking into a mirror. But the similarity ended there. In them she saw a predatory air and degree of confidence that only a man of his rank could possess—the confidence that came from knowing that the world would bow to him in everything, that he had the power to destroy the livelihoods, reputations, and souls of others at the merest word or casual flick of the wrist.
A thread of ice rippled through her veins as he continued to glare at her, his eyes glittering with dominance.
Sweet Lord!Many times had she been on the receiving end of his anger, his disappointment, but never before had she faced such ice-cold fury, delivered with such control.
The corner of his lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, as if, like a predator, he relished the terror in his prey at the moment before he tore her apart. But, as Stephen had once told her, the best generals only stepped into battle when they were assured of victory—sometimes the battle was won before a single shot had been fired. By staring down his opponent, Adam was attempting to triumph even before he made the first move. Doubtless he expected her to turn tail and flee.
Her fingers itched with the urge to challenge him, and she curled her hand, imagining what it might be like to aim apistol at her brother’s head. Would he blubber like a toddler, as Viscount de Blanchard did when he faced the end of the Farthing’s pistol, or soil his breeches like Dunton?
“Challenge me, Your Grace, if you dare,” she whispered. “But you don’t have the balls.”
His gaze faltered, then he looked away and laughed.
“Waste of bloody time coming here tonight, Francis,” he said, clapping his friend on the back. “You don’t have the balls to face this fellow in a duel.”
He glanced back toward Portia, and she grinned.
Yes, brother. Sometimes the battle is won before a shot is fired.
