Page 81 of A Kiss Of Lies

Christian removed his coat and waistcoat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He swung his arm in an arc, rotating his shoulder in wide sweeps. Thankfully it was more mobile than it had been in a long while. However, in order to win, he’d have to finish Dennett off quickly. His shoulder would tire sooner than Dennett’s.

Although he’d not had much practice with the rapier, the war had seen to it that he’d used a sword. The feel of steel in his hand once more was comfortable, like a friend he’d not seen in a long time. He practiced with a few thrusts and parries.

Soon the call came for the two men to take their places. Christian shook hands with Hadley and Arend, closed his eyes and prayed for victory, and tried to put all thoughts of Serena from his mind. Totally focused, he turned and walked to face the man who had the one thing he wanted more than life itself. Serena.

He would not fail her.

“Ready to die, Markham?” Although Dennett’s words were spoken confidently, there was a line of sweat beading his upper lip and forehead.

Christian performed a mocking bow. “Only one of us will be dying today, and it won’t be me.”

“Pretty confident for a man who up until a few days ago had limited use of his arm.” He barked a harsh laugh. “I knew you’d be stupid enough to issue a challenge, and you fell into my trap.” He took his stance, whispering so that only Christian could hear, “How long do you think Serena will survive once you’re dead? So easy to lose someone at sea, but we’ll have a chance to reacquaint ourselves before she is washed overboard.”

Christian flexed his blade. “You really are a bastard, Dennett. I hope once I’ve skewered you, you die a slow, agonizing death.”

With that, Dennett came at him with a flurry of thrusts. Christian immediately went on the defensive. Usually, defending adequately won the duel. Very rarely did an aggressive attacker win, but Christian didn’t have the luxury of a long battle, and by the looks of it, Dennett knew that. He knew if he kept Christian in a defensive pose he’d wear him down.

Keeping his body centered and upright, Christian parried each of Dennett’s thrusts. His strategy was to wait, defend well, and seize the opportunity when it came.

And it would come. If he pretended to tire, Dennett would become overconfident and an opening would present itself to thrust directly into Dennett’s black heart.

Only flaw was, he might actually tire first. Remorselessly, Christian parried each of Dennett’s thrusts. Dennett pushed him round, forcing him back.

The fight raged, and it didn’t take long for his shoulder to start burning. He pushed the pain from his mind. Dennett must have sensed weakness, and his thrusts became more aggressive. Serena’s face smiled at him from behind his eyelids, and suddenly rage overtook Christian. He moved from defense to attack, his thrusts imbued with the strength of a man fighting for the woman he loved. He used his feet well, lunging to his left while forcing his sword up and under Dennett’s sword arm. Christian’s rapier’s point touched bone; he’d sliced Dennett’s armpit.

“Now we’re even—your shoulder’s damaged too,” he snarled to his nemesis.

Dennett let out a roar, his teeth bared, his eyes burning with hatred. He renewed his attack, blood dripping down his side from his injured armpit.

Up until this point Christian had ignored the rumblings of the crowd, but now they rose to a roar. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a horse, or pony barreling toward them. His lack of concentration cost him as Dennett’s rapier grazed his scarred cheek. He could feel blood flow.

At the scratch, a feminine scream rent the air and the pony barreled into the fighters, sending Christian flying one way and Dennett the other.

“Don’t you hurt Lord Markham, you horrid man.”

Oh, my god, it was Lily. And Jack! He’d kill Thomas for allowing his ward near the fight.

Christian scrambled to his feet, desperately looking around for Arend. Dennett was on his feet and moving toward Lily’s horse. Fear clenched in his gut. If Dennett tried to hurt her . . . But then Lily moved her horse closer and belted him over the head with her crop. “You leave Lord Markham alone. I’ll not let you kill him, you bully.”

Her words saw the fifty-plus men around the dueling field burst into raucous laughter.

Just then two more horses arrived with Serena and Maitland riding upon them. Maitland grabbed the bridle of Lily’s horse and began to lead the child from the field.

Serena saw the trail of blood running down Christian’s cheek, and her face paled. She jumped down and ran to his side. “Please don’t do this. Please . . . for me. I couldn’t bear it if you were killed.”

They stood staring at each other, both breathing heavily.

“I won’t lose, sweetheart. I have too much to live for. You.” He nodded. “Lily.” And then he covered her stomach. “And our children.” She made to speak, but he lifted his hand to cover her mouth. “I know his moves and I know how to kill him. Let me end this. Have faith in me.”

He watched her swallow hard. “I do have faith, but I’m so scared.”

He moved closer and was drawing her into his arms when a gunshot rang out across the field and Serena slumped into his arms.

Christian’s heart leaped into his mouth. Serena!

Lily screamed and the crowd stilled. Everything happened slowly. Serena began to sink to her knees, as Christian tried desperately to deny what he’d heard, what he was seeing.

There was always a doctor present at a duel, thank God. “Get the bloody doctor,” Christian yelled to the men standing openmouthed behind him.

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