Page 22 of Beth: A Regency Romance Novell

Ramsey would duel to the death, Marcus realized. In his twisted mind it would be a gentleman’s death. Why hadn’t he just shot the man? But to do that would make an appalling beginning for himself and Beth. Such an inauspicious start would stand between them. He didn’t fancy appearing like a coward in her eyes.

Aware of how vulnerable he was without a mask or protective gear, Marcus raised his foil and moved across the floor. He considered his tactics. He would need to distract Ramsey, put him off balance.

“Allez!” Ramsey lunged, the point of his weapon aimed at Marcus’ chest, revealing his intentions.

With short and fast steps, Marcus parried with a riposte driving Ramsey back with a clash of steel. “Enjoy your last moments on earth,” Ramsey cried, the lust for revenge darkening his eyes.

They danced around each other, their feet scuffling across the floor. Their blades locked together, and Marcus could smell Ramsey’s sour sweat. Sweat dripped down his own brow as he disengaged and twisted to attack Ramsey’s left side. Panting, Ramsey parried.

“Why do you wish revenge on the Duke of Harrow?” Marcus asked as their blades clashed again.

“He accused me of cheating in a Paris gaming house. I was banned from them all.” Ramsey was gasping, breathing hard. “I had a good life there. He destroyed my livelihood.”

“Andrew would not have done so had it not been true,” Marcus said, parrying a vicious attack.

“As his friend you would say that.” Riled, Ramsey attacked wildly again. Marcus felt the bottom step of the staircase behind his feet. Before he could stumble, he attacked with a series of thrusts driving Ramsey back.

“What good would come from taking Beth to France?” he asked when he could gain his breath.

“As Harrow’s sister-in-law, she will restore my credibility in the gaming houses. I could take up my life there again,” Ramsey huffed out. “Harrow could be persuaded to part with a goodly sum of money to have her back in England. If I should agree to part with my bride.”

“Sounds like a crazed scheme with no chance of success.”

“It would have worked perfectly had you not interfered. Once the girl was despoiled, her only option would have been marriage.”

Furious, Marcus forgot his plan and attacked with reckless force. He drove Ramsey back against the refectory table, jolting the lamp. It rocked and threatened to fall. It distracted Marcus for a moment. Ramsey recovered with a laugh, and struck, pinking Marcus’ arm.

Marcus cursed as blood dripped down his sleeve. If it wet his fingers, he would be lost.

They battle

d back across the flag stones, until Ramsey stumbled over a piece of armor. With an angry cry he lunged again only to be blocked by Marcus. “Who was the dead woman in the cupboard?” he asked Ramsey.

Ramsey parried vigorously. “I told you. My aunt!”

“Which one?” Marcus fended off another frenzied attack. It had been a long night, and they were both tiring.

“Agnes. She disappeared some years ago. It’s likely her sister Gertrude killed her. A lot of spleen between them.”

“Madness runs in your family?”

With an almost inhuman growl, Ramsey attacked ferociously darting forward with quick steps. He breathed heavily, his face crimson, and sweat coursed down his forehead. His anger made him careless. As he darted forward, Marcus’ epee slid off Ramsey’s blade, and struck deep into the man’s shoulder.

The sword flying from his hand, Ramsey sank down with a groan. He clutched the wound where blood gushed. “Finish me off, Nyeland.”

Marcus kicked away Ramsey’s sword. He pulled off his cravat, folded it and tucked it into Ramsey’s coat. “I’ll send a doctor to you.”

“Don’t bother,” Ramsey muttered.

Pulling on his coat Marcus left the house. There was no sign of the women. He hoped they were on their way to the village, but a few yards down the driveway, they emerged from the still dripping foliage.

“Thank God!” Beth hurried over, her voice shaking. “But you’ve been wounded.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Is he dead?” she asked.

“No, he’ll live,” Marcus replied.

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