Page 7 of The Duelist for the Ton
Sweet Lord.
“Ah!” Sir Heath continued. “I see a glint of fear behind that mask of yours.”
“I fear no man, Sir Heath.”
“Then you’re a fool.” Sir Heath cocked his head to one side. “A young buck fresh from Oxford, perhaps, desperate to show his prowess with a pistol to make up for his deficiencies in the bedroom—or perhaps a younger brother overlooked in favor of the elder and suffering from not being the heir.” He gestured through the open door. “Perhaps you frequent this establishment, or aspire to if only your older brother would permit it?”
Older brother—heavens!Did the man possess an instinct like a pig sniffing for truffles?
“I have no desire to set foot in White’s.”
“Spoken with such vehemence, Mr. Farthing,” Sir Heath said. “And the contempt you have for Dunton here makes me think that you’re acquainted with dukes. The Duke of Foxton’s residence is nearby—Number Eight St. James’s Square. Perhaps you’re familiar with the address?”
Sweet Lord!Sir Heath may not be the most intelligent man in Society, but he possessed a degree of acuity that came hand in hand with a vicious character.
“Are you attempting to ascertain my identity, Sir Heath?”
“Now who’s lacking in wits?” Sir Heath grinned, revealing perfectly even white teeth. “Perhaps not ayounger brother, then.”
Oh Lord—I’m done for.
“A footman, mayhap—dissatisfied with his lot and resentful enough of his master, and his master’s social station, to take pleasure in shooting at his betters.”
“You take equal pleasure, Sir Heath, in paying another to risk their life in a duel as a result of your dishonorable behavior. Of all my clientele, you are the one who, without exception, finds himself facing a protective husband, father, or older brother as a result of the women they love falling prey to your—ahem—charms.”
Sir Heath stepped forward. “I ought to rip that mask off you right now.”
“And where would that leave you, Sir Heath?”
“Very satisfied.”
“And exposed to the risk of a bullet in your heart. You’d have to fight your own duels from now on each time you compromised an innocent. And let’s be honest, sir—given that the chances of you being called out within the next month, or even the next week, are virtually guaranteed, it’s a risk that a coward such as yourself is unwilling to take.”
“Why, you…”
Fear flared as Sir Heath approached, hands outstretched, ready to rip off the Farthing’s mask.
Then, with a cry, he pitched forward and fell onto the pavement.
“Bugger!”
He’d tripped over Dunton’s prone form.
“Come on my…I mean, sir,” Gerard whispered. “It’s time we left. The house will be awake soon, and we don’t want to be caught.”
“Very good…Gerard. I’d be at a loss without you.”
They resumed walking along St. James’s Street, quickening the pace as Sir Heath yelled after them. “I’ll have you yet, Mr. Farthing!”
“Aye—only next time I’ll charge one hundred guineas.”
“You bounder!”
“What will you do, Sir Heath?” the Farthing cried. “Call me out? I’ll gladly accept the challenge.”
Sir Heath let out another curse. At the turning into King Street, the Farthing glanced back to see him struggling to his feet, the Duke of Dunton clinging to his leg.
“You shouldn’t rile Sir Heath,” Gerard said.
