Page 76 of A Kiss Of Lies

Christian didn’t give him the opportunity to decline. In a raised voice he stated, “Choose your second. At six tomorrow morning I shall expect you at Kenwood. If not, I will assume you are the coward Lady Serena Castleton says you are, and you will never see her again.”

“Haven’t we jumped a step? Where’s the 'choose thy weapon’?”

A hint of unease settled low in his stomach. He grew uneasy recalling the smirk of triumph on Dennett’s face as he’d uttered the challenge. It was as if Dennett had been expecting it, as if he was eager for it.

“For your information,” Dennett went on, “Lord Carthors will be my second. Won’t you, Arthur?”

“Indeed,” the drunken buffoon at Dennett’s side muttered.

“And, the weapon I choose is the rapier.”

A gasp ricocheted around the gathered crowd. Spencer’s eyebrows knitted together in a frown, and Christian understood Dennett’s glee at the challenge. The damage to his shoulder from the burns made his flexibility almost nonexistent. Christian would not be at his fighting best.

Someone in the crowd called out, “I say, old chap, that is not very sporting of you. Lord Markham carries an injury.”

For once Christian gave thanks for the Markham temper. He could use it. He would need his anger to fight through the pain. Having to duel with a rapier leveled the skills of the two men. So much for thinking killing Dennett would be easy.

The angry hum was growing audibly in the crowd, as Dennett had not withdrawn his choice of weapon. Christian held his hand up for silence.

“Rapier it is, then.” Under his breath he added, “I’ll enjoy skewering you with it. I knew you were no gentleman when I saw the whip marks you left on Serena’s skin.”

“If you’ve seen those marks, then it would appear my wife needs another lesson in discipline. When you’re dead, I’ll make her pay. I’ll have her down on her knees, screaming my na—”

Maitland had to intervene as Christian lunged for Dennett’s throat. But Christian shrugged his friend off and reined in his anger.

“You’ll keep until tomorrow. If anyone’s going to be down on their knees begging, it will be you. You’ll be begging for your life and I’ll show you the same mercy you showed Serena—none.”

Dennett’s laugh followed him as he made his way back to his mount.

Maitland uttered dryly, “Apart from the fact you might now lose, that went rather well. We have plenty of witnesses, and not a one of them will care if you kill Dennett, not after his cowardly display of dishonor. Rapier indeed!”

With ice-cold certainty Christian said under his breath, “I’ll defeat him. I have too much to lose.”

“When we get home, we need to get that shoulder seen to.”

Maitland and Hadley spent the rest of the afternoon working on his shoulder and testing its strength.

Hadley stood back and dropped his sword. “Better. The liniment has helped, and if you stretch it out beforehand, the arm should actually loosen the more you fight. We can’t do any more today. I suggest I arrive an hour before the duel and we work further on the knots.”

“Serena’s treatment throughout the voyage back to England has definitely helped. It’s in much better shape than it’s ever been.” He toweled his chest and drew his shirt back on. “Speaking of Serena, has anyone told her about Dennett?”

Both men looked at each other and the floor. Hadley cleared his throat and spoke up. “I thought it best to wait until the duel was over.”

“In case I died?” He eyed them both. “I’m going to see her, so don’t try to stop me.”

“As if we could,” Maitland stated dryly to his departing back.

Christian worked hard to make certain he wasn’t followed when he left the house. He wanted—no, needed—to see Serena to tell her the news, and make sure she was safe.

He didn’t know how she’d react to the fact her husband was still alive. With relief that she wasn’t a murderess, most likely, followed by the awful realization that she was still his wife and therefore his property.

Taking Serena to his bed had made her an adulteress.

Yet he couldn’t seem to care. She belonged to him, and no one was going to tell him otherwise, especially not a fiend like Peter Dennett. Dennett didn’t deserve her.

He sent his carriage out as a decoy and then shimmied over the neighboring walls and through a series of back gardens to reach Sebastian’s house, a block to the north.

He entered the house through the servants’ entrance and noted Arend’s men guarding the house. He still couldn’t get the tension in his stomach to unfurl. Until Dennett felt his blade, Serena was not safe.

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