Page 75 of The Duelist for the Ton
“At least…that’s what I’ve heard. My brother speaks of him.”
“He shouldn’t discuss such matters with you, Lady Portia.”
“Why not? Is it not deception to conceal information?”
“But why should you want to know about such a despicable creature?”
“Perhaps he’s just earning a living,” she said. “He might use the money he earns for good, to support a family or to help others.”
“By risking lives?”
“He might be proficient enough to leave his opponent injured just enough to satisfy everyone’s honor, but not so much as to cause permanent damage,” she said. “You might argue that he’ssavinglives, not putting them at risk.”
“And you think that justifies taking up a weapon and shooting at an innocent man?” he said, his voice rising. “Not only is dueling illegal, it’s morally reprehensible. Men who take part in duels do so to satisfy their inflated opinions of themselves, and nothing more. This Farthing fellow is profiteering off that and placing their lives at risk.”
“But—”
“No, Lady Portia,” he said, his eyes bright with emotion. “He does not deserve our understanding. He deserves our censure, and…”
He hesitated, and the emotion in his eyes turned to hatred.
“He deserves to be hanged.”
“Surely such a punishment should be reserved for the very worst crimes imaginable.”
“I cannot imagine anything worse than what the Farthing does,” he said, his voice almost a snarl. “I would gladly place the noose around his neck myself and see his body dance in agony while he draws his last breath!”
The breath left Portia’s body as nausea swelled inside her stomach and she let her arrow fly. It sailed over the top of the target. Her eyes misted with moisture and she blinked. As her vision cleared, Stephen’s concerned face swam into view.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to upset you. Perhaps the footman in attendance will permit you to take the shot again.” He tilted his head upward. “Hello there!”
A footman emerged from behind a tree. “Yes, sir?”
“Would you be so kind as to let Lady Portia—”
“There’s no need,” she said. “The damage has been done.”
At that moment, a shot rang out in the distance. Stephen winced and glanced about, fear glazing his eyes.
“No need for alarm, sir,” the footman said. “That’s the signal for the end of the game.” He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and wrote in it, before slipping it back in his pocket. “Shall I escort you back to the lawn for tea? There’s strawberries and cream.”
“No need,” Portia said. “I know the way.” She hooked her bow over her shoulder and set off on the path, not bothering to see if Stephen followed.
Before she reached the edge of the woods, she caught sight of Alice and Lavinia. They turned as she approached.
“Portia, darling!” Lavinia said. “Did you find all ten targets? We only found nine.”
“Did you see the one hidden among the holly near the lake?”
Alice nodded. “Oh yes, I almost hit the center of that one. And we found the ones hidden in the rhododendrons.”
“What about the one up a tree?”
“Up a tree?” Lavinia raised her eyebrows. “Are you jesting?”
“No, it was up that large oak tree in the center of the woods.”
“Oh, we walked right past that,” Alice said. “I’d have thought you’d have spotted it, Lavinia, given your penchant for climbing.” She let out a giggle. “Though, of course, you prefer to climb into people’s bedrooms and steal their treasures.”
