Page 39 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

“No!” James repeated, shouting this time.

“I’ll come back later,” said Henry.

Listening to his friend’s retreating footsteps, James decided to run.

***

Cecelia watched James stride away from the fencing debacle. He was moving fast; clearly, to her eyes, running away. He disappeared into the house at the front of the garden and was gone.

The crowd erupted like one of her aunt’s beehives overturned. Exclamations flew back and forth. Eyes gleamed with scandalized delight at this unprecedented happening. Prince Karl stood at the center of a commiserating group, taking full advantage of their sympathy and outrage. He’d recovered from James’s blow quite quickly, but he preened under the attention. A man brought his coat and helped him into it as if it was a privilege.

Cecelia knew that society was plagued by boredom. The progression of the season tended to be the same, year after year. Any unusual occurrence was avidly welcomed and talked over until every ounce of novelty had been extracted. This public contest had provided such an outlet, and now the outcome was even more thrilling. People would be chattering for weeks. Those who’d seen it would lord it over those who hadn’t. The latter would languish under their pity.

The prince came toward her, his new entourage trailing after him. He moved like a victor coming for his prize. He was the former, she supposed. But she wasnotthe latter.

“That was too bad,” he said, claiming a place beside Cecelia as if by right and forcing her friends to step back. “He saw that he could not match my skill, of course. But that is no excuse for dishonorable behavior.” His tone was complacent. He was enjoying this very much.

“Dishonorable,” said Cecelia. She hadn’t meant to speak, but the word popped out. Because it seemed unfair. Gentlemen were always hitting each other at their boxing club. James and the prince had been exchanging blows with actual weapons, though blunted. Should one punch make such a difference? The prince had hurt James, too. She’d seen the blow to his wrist and his flinch. No one seemed to be mentioning that.

“We had set rules for this encounter,” Prince Karl replied, speaking as if to a simpleton. “He broke them.”

It was true. Cecelia understood rules. She also understood how much James hated losing. Loathed it, despised it.

“He should have conceded defeat like a gentleman,” said the prince.

Cecelia wasn’t sure James knew how. He was so accustomed to winning. She looked around at the chattering crowd. They were used to seeing James best his rivals at everything he tried. James was a nonpareil. But now, all at once, he’d been beaten andthenexposed, his humiliation made obvious when he’d snapped and hit the prince. A number of people here were delighted at his fall from grace. She could see them. Certainly James knew that, and she could imagine his chagrin. The terrible depth of it made her cringe.

That didn’t mean James was right. It was only a sporting contest. He should have been gracious. Winning was not everything. Except that it had been, to a youngster who had no other power.

She saw Henry Deeping depart and hoped he might be going to James. A male friend was probably what he needed now.

“I require refreshment after my efforts. Shall we explore the buffet?” Prince Karl’s tone was lofty. He offered his arm as if there could be no question that she would take it.

Cecelia felt a spark of anger. She wasn’t a bauble to be acquired in some mock battle—not by him or anyone else. “I’m not used to witnessing violence. I think I shall go.” Let him think her missish. She didn’t care.

“Go? You cannot go.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You must help me celebrate my victory.”

“Must?” He could not miss the edge in her voice. Cecelia did not understand why it made him smile, however. The prince’s hazel eyes positively sparkled. “Youmustexcuse me,” she said. He bowed. She turned and walked away. Many eyes followed her. She didn’t care.

“That was unusual,” said Charlotte Deeping.

Cecelia realized that her four friends were with her. They’d moved up to help her make a way through the crowd. It was rather like being a small vessel cresting the waves. People gave way slowly, with stares and whispers. The company was a comfort.

“The prince is an outstanding swordsman,” said Sarah.

“He did make it look rather easy,” replied Ada.

“One can see why the duke wished to hit him,” said Harriet quietly.

“Harriet!” exclaimed the others.

“I didn’t say he was right to do it,” Harriet replied. “Of course he was not. I simply said I understood. Prince Karl was so very smug about his victory.”

They reached the house and traversed the hallway toward the front door.

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