Devil's Embrace (47 page)

Cassie flicked the reins, and her mare broke unwillingly into a trot through the courtyard and onto the road. She shivered in the chill early morning air and thrust her free
hand into the pocket of her cloak. She clenched her teeth against a bout of morning sickness that raised bile in her throat.

Curious eyes followed her progress through the near-empty streets, but she paid them no heed. The sky was overcast and Cassie found herself praying for a violent downpour, anything that would put a stop to this madness.

“It is a matter of pride.” Scargill’s quiet words floated through her mind. She had lost hers during the long hours of the night as she lay huddled in her bed.

She guided her mare onto the Commons, a stretch of barren ground surrounded by naked-branched trees. She saw them at the far end of the Commons; Scargill and Major Andre standing together, the earl and Edward apart, stripping off their overcoats. She heard the whinnying of their horses, tethered to scraggly bushes. She sucked in her breath at the sight of a silver rapier cutting through the air. Edward was testing the flexibility of his blade. The earl stood quietly, his fingers caressing the razor edge of his sword.

She slipped off her mare’s back. She ran quickly toward them, her footsteps noiseless in the dew-soaked grass. She froze in her tracks at Major Andre’s cold command,
“En garde!”

The earl and Edward, both stripped to their frilled white shirts and tight, dark, knitted breeches, circled toward each other, slashing their rapiers in front of them. She ran forward, her cloak billowing out behind her, as the sound of clashing steel rang in the heavy air.

“Lady Delford.” Major Andre’s shocked, reproving voice rose above the raging foils, and she felt his hand grab her arm.

“Let me go, you fool. I am not Lady Delford, and this madness must be stopped.”

“Madonna, it is too late.”

Cassie turned stricken eyes to Scargill. “You said it was a matter of pride. Dammit, I cannot let this happen. Let me go, Major, else I shall do something very unladylike to you.”

“But—” Major Andre sputtered, taken aback by her unexpected ferociousness. He dropped his hand.

Cassie knew that both the earl and Edward were aware of her presence, but neither of them paid her any heed. She heard a growl from Edward as he lunged forward, his foil a blur as it whistled toward the earl. The earl deflected his blade and drew him into a wild flurry.

Cassie jerked the small pistol from her cloak pocket and dashed forward. She was close enough to see beads of perspiration upon Edward’s brow, and hear his rasping breathing. He was defending himself with poise and swiftness, but the earl was easily the more powerful, and his body moved with deadly grace, the foil an easy extension of his arm.

“Stop it, both of you.”

“Leave, Cassandra,” the earl shouted, his eyes flitting toward her for a brief instant, “else I promise to thrash you.”

Slowly, Cassie raised the pistol and pressed it against her temple. “If you do not cease your madness this instant, I swear I will pull the trigger.”

“Cassie.” Edward stared at her, drawing in his foil. The earl turned slowly toward her, and dropped his rapier to the ground.

“Put that pistol down, Cassandra,” he said. She could hear fear in his voice.

Cassie tightened her grip on the butt. “I mean it, my lord. Damn both of you. Edward, leave go. Forget your wretched honor. I love him, do you hear? I could not bear it if you harmed him. And you, my lord, do you wish to destroy our lives by being the cause of Edward’s death?”

Her eyes were pleading on Edward’s face, and he looked at her uncertainly.

The earl strode toward her. She lowered the pistol from her temple, and aimed it at his chest. “I shot you once, my lord,” she said in a voice of deadly calm. “Do not doubt that I would do it again.”

He stopped abruptly, his eyes boring into hers. “Cease this nonsense, Cassandra. You interfere where you do not belong.”

“Do not belong?” she shrieked at him. “Are both of you
so lost to reason? I swear to you that I will put a bullet through you if you do not promise me you will stop.”

She thought she had won, for Edward nodded his head at her. As she looked at him, her hand was suddenly borne violently downward. A sharp explosion rent the silence, and the bullet tore into the cold ground.

The earl grasped her shoulders and shook her.

Cassie stared stupidly down at the useless pistol dangling from her fingers. She raised her face to his and whispered brokenly, “Please, no, my lord. Please do not do this. I lied to you last night. It is you I love, you must believe me.”

He pulled the pistol from her fingers and tossed it aside. “So you will do anything to protect your lover,” he said coldly. “Even though he does not want you, you plead for his life.”

“No. You must listen to me, Anthony. Please, listen to me.”

“Are you ready to continue, my lord?” Edward asked, his face a set mask.

“Certainly, Lyndhurst. Scargill, take her away from here.”

Just as Scargill’s hand closed over her arm, the sky rumbled with grating loud thunder and rain burst through the thick gray clouds.

“En garde!”
Major Andre’s command rang out once again.

“Major, you cannot allow this. We must stop them.” Cassie felt impotent tears sting her eyes and wet her cheeks, mixing with the raindrops.

“Honor must be satisfied,” he said sharply. He stared straight ahead at the earl and Edward, refusing to meet her eyes.

Through the heavy veil of rain, Cassie watched the earl and Edward, their clothes plastered to their bodies, their movements tentative on the slippery ground. Suddenly Edward slipped on a muddy clot of earth, and he clutched frantically at the empty air to regain his balance.

“Damn, the earl could have had him,” Major Andre said.

Cassie drew in an appalled breath. The earl had held
back. God, what was he trying to do? Did he seek to kill himself?

Cassie suddenly went limp against Scargill’s arm, and her head lolled back against his chest. “Dear God,” she heard him cry. “Help me, sir, she’s fainted.”

The instant he released his hold upon her to lift her into his arms, Cassie whirled about and drove her heel against his shin. Scargill gasped more in surprise than in pain and stumbled backward.

“Madonna, don’t!”

Cassie rushed toward the earl and Edward, jerking off her sodden cloak as she ran. Their figures were indistinct through the thick haze of rain, and even the loud clashing of steel against steel was muted in the downpour.

The earl saw her rushing toward them and quickly drew back from Edward. In the next instant, she threw her cloak between them, and flung herself against the earl.

Edward did not see her until the moment she covered the earl’s body with her own. His foil caught in the sodden cloak, but his momentum carried his thrust forward. The tip of his blade sliced through the cloak and sank with sickening ease into her shoulder.

He jerked the foil free and gazed, horrified, at the bright red blood covering the tip.

Cassie felt nothing, save a sharp prick high on her shoulder, near her left arm.

“Please,” she cried, her face buried against the earl’s wet shirt, “no more.” She clasped her arms tightly around his neck and sobbed softly against his chest. “Please, if there must be more fighting, let me be the one. I cannot lose you. I would rather die than lose you.”

She felt the warmth of his breath against her forehead. “You are forever a surprise, Cassandra,” he whispered, as his hands ripped through the bloodied material of her gown. He drew a relieved breath. The foil thrust was not deep.

“Please take me home, Anthony.”

“That will be in large measure up to Edward Lyndhurst,
cara.
Well, Captain? Has your thirst for honor been slaked?”

“Cassie, you are hurt,” Edward said, “My God, what have I done?”

Cassie turned slightly in the earl’s arms. “It is nothing, Edward. All that matters is that you and he are safe. Please tell me, Edward, that you no longer wish his blood.”

“Dammit, Cassie, think of what he has done to you. How can you want such a man?”

“I do not know, Edward, but the fact remains that I do. It is true, you know I would not lie to you.”

Edward blinked the rain from his eyes. He stared blankly as the earl lifted Cassie into his arms.

“I believe, Lyndhurst,” the earl said quietly, “that the die has been cast. I, for one, certainly have no wish to be impaled on your foil.”

Slowly, Edward nodded. “Your shoulder, Cass,” he said, staring at the red stain that was spreading over her gown.

“If you wish, Lyndhurst, you can accompany me back to
The Cassandra.
I will take care of her there.”

“But you cannot. It’s I who must—”

“She has made her choice. Enough, let us leave this place before we all succumb to an inflammation of the lungs in this blasted rain.”

Cassie raised her head from the earl’s shoulder. “Thank you, Edward. You need have no more fears for me. I am going home.” She was smiling.

“It’s but a scratch,
cara.
I will give you two days before I lay you over my knee.” The earl straightened and pulled the bedcover higher on her back.

“Do you wish some laudanum, my lord?” Scargill asked as he handed the earl the basilicum powder.

“Nay, if she suffers any pain it will serve her right. I have had enough of your dramatic antics, Cassandra, to last me a lifetime.”

“He is cruel, Scargill, but I shall make him pay, never fear.”

Her grin became a wince as he gently bound the wound with a light bandage. He pulled her damp mass of hair away from her body and tucked the covers more tightly around her.

“We will give her a glass of wine for her breakfast, Scargill.”

“Yes, my lord, right away.” Scargill sprinkled a goodly amount of laudanum into the red wine.

As the earl helped her onto her back and puffed the pillows behind her head, she eyed the wine warily. “I really don’t wish any, my lord.”

“Nonsense, it will put you in a better frame of mind, and, I trust, calm your shrew’s tongue.”

“Oh, very well,” she said, and downed the wine. “I do wish that you would give me a nightgown.”

Before the earl answered her, he turned to Scargill, who sported a beaming smile. “Thank you, Scargill. I believe I can well handle our patient now. Go remove those wet clothes. I want none of us to become ill.”

“Now about that nightgown, Cassandra,” the earl said after Scargill had let himself out of the cabin. The smile disappeared as he gazed down at her white face. “For God’s sake, what is the matter?”

“It is the wine,” she gasped, and looked wildly about for a basin. “Please, my lord, I am going to be ill.”

He got her the basin with not an instant to spare. When at last she lay against the pillows, pale and blown, he said gently, “Lie still, love. This time we will try some water, no wine.”

After she had sipped at the water, she became aware that he was looking at her oddly. She thought of the child in her womb, but decided that now was not the time to tell him of her pregnancy. She stared up at him, and set her jaw.

“Should you not remove your wet clothes, my lord?”

His odd, assessing expression gave way to a grin. “Only if you will promise to spare my male modesty.”

“I assure you that anything you do will leave me unmoved.”

Indeed, her words were true, she thought. She started to feel very drowsy and the pain in her shoulder seemed to be easing. She heard his boots drop to the floor, but she was no longer paying attention.

*   *   *

The earl laid down the hairbrush and surveyed his handiwork. “You are presentable now, Cassandra.”

“What is the time?”

“Late afternoon, near four o’clock. You slept a long time, little one.”

She sighed and pulled the dressing gown more closely over her breasts, a dressing gown that he had put on her whilst she had slept.

“Are you hungry?”

Cassie consulted her stomach and discovered that she was ravenous. “Is Arturo aboard? I think I could eat three horses.”

A light knock came upon the cabin door.

“Enter.”

Scargill’s smiling face appeared in the open doorway. “The viscount and a young lady are here, my lord.”

“Well, Cassandra?” The earl’s gaze was questioning.

“Yes, Anthony. I believe proper good-byes are in order.”

Edward stepped awkwardly into the cabin, a radiant Jenny at his side.

“My lord,” he said stiffly, bowing to the earl. “I would like you to meet Jennifer Lacy. Jenny, Anthony Welles, Earl of Clare.”

The earl took in Jenny’s flushed cheeks, and her rich auburn hair tumbled artfully about her shoulders. He was aware that she was eyeing him closely. He raised her gloved hand to his lips and lightly kissed her palm. “A pleasure, Miss Lacy. I trust you are fully recovered?”

“I am not certain, my lord,” Jenny said, “to which recovery you are referring. There have been several of late.”

The earl grinned down at her. “Actually, I was thinking of your most recent timely swoon, ma’am.”

“It was, was it not?” Jenny agreed smoothly.

Edward, whose eyes were upon Cassie, turned to Jenny, frowning comprehension dawning. “Jenny. You little wretch. Are you telling me that your fainting was an act?”

“Well, yes, Edward,” she admitted. “But enough of that.” She smiled toward Cassie. “I only wish that I had had the courage to put a stop to your dueling. But what
one lady doesn’t manage, another does. Well done, Miss Brougham.”

“Thank you, Miss Lacy.”

“Well, Lyndhurst,” the earl said smoothly, “it would appear that our destinies have been determined by two chits, barely into petticoats.”

A faint smile replaced Edward’s appalled expression. “I think, Jenny, that you are deserving of whatever fate I choose for you.”

Jenny lowered her eyes to hide their lurking laughter. Her voice was demure. “So long as I do not have to faint anymore, Edward, for effect, you know, I shall be content.”

“You are a minx, Miss Lacy,” the earl said, as Edward turned stiffly to Cassie.

“You are all right, Cass?”