Dancing With A Devil (23 page)

A reluctant surge of gratitude filled her. She offered a sharp nod. “I thank you. And now I must be off, before I’m discovered gone.”

Trent snorted at that. “If you’re worried about your brother discovering you missing, I left him not more than an hour ago on the street in front of White’s. He’d had quite a lot to drink and didn’t appear near in the mood to be heading home.”

Audrey frowned at Trent’s news. “Did you run into Richard or seek him out?”

“
I sought him out in hopes of avoiding the duel for his sake, as well as yours.”

“
Oh.” The large lump now lodged in her throat prevented her from saying more. The fact that Trent had gone out of his way to try to end this mess affected her, and she didn’t want to be touched by him. Or rather she did, and that was the problem. Irritation at herself and Richard made her clench her teeth.
Blast Richard.
It was unseemly for him to be cavorting around Town with Father not even buried in his grave. She understood better than anyone the differing tugs of sorrow and strange nothingness he likely felt in relation to Father’s death, yet Richard owed Father’s memory respect. Tomorrow, after the mess of the duel was behind them, she would speak to him and take him to task on straightening out his life now that he was the new marquess. His drinking simply had to stop.

“
Audrey?”

Trent’s gentle question snapped her out of her musings over Richard. Trent now stood so close to her the flecks of gold in his green eyes were visible. The fluttering of her heart frightened her. Even now, after everything she knew he still affected her―blast him. She turned sharply toward the door, not wanting him to see the longing probably written all over her face. Before he could stop her, she flung open the door and called over her shoulder loud enough for him to hear, “I must be going now that our business is concluded.”

She raced into the hallway and nearly barreled into the butler. “Please see me out now.” Her rushed words got no visible reaction from the man other than his inclining his head and striding at a brisk pace down the hall. Audrey’s heart thundered in her chest. She strained to hear footsteps behind her as she hurried down the hall. Perhaps Trent would call out and demand she stop? When she got to the front door and the butler opened it for her, she was trembling all over.

Trent hadn’t come after her. He hadn’t halted her departure, begged her to stay or even bothered to bid her farewell. It was for the best. She was so hurt and angry she thought she very well might slap him again, and that wouldn’t do. She didn’t want him to know how much he’d wounded her. At least she’d never told him she loved him. He would never know for certain what a fool she’d been for him.

She repeated the thought to herself as she settled herself in her carriage and waited for the door to be closed. The minute it clicked shut and the carriage dipped down with the weight of Mr. Barrett taking the driver’s seat, she buried her face in her hands and cried all the way to her home. Once there, she wiped her tears and took a deep, steadying breath. It was time to harden her heart and forget Trent. The devil wasn’t worth her tears.

Early the next morning, Trent stared across Hamstead Heath Park and tried to force his thoughts to the impending duel. The green grass of the park blurred and Audrey’s anguished face appeared in his mind. The sleepless night had done nothing to fill the hollowness that had taken up residency in his chest since the moment he’d forced himself to let her leave yesterday.

A man who didn’t know for certain whether his wife was dead or not didn’t bloody well deserve to contemplate a future with anyone else, especially when it seemed the woman he’d been considering a future with wanted more than a marriage of convenience. She wanted his love and that was the one damned thing, married or not, he could never give her. Love was for blind fools.

A sharp jab in his side snapped him out of his meanderings. He shot a glare at Dinnisfree. “Why did you elbow me?”

His friend returned his glare. “It’s my job as your second to keep you focused until the duel begins, and you’re hardly focused. Snap out of whatever, or rather whoever, has your thoughts, though I’m sure I know who.”

Heat crept up Trent’s neck. He jerked his head in agreement. “There’ll be plenty of years to question whether I’ve made the right choices.”

Dinnisfree paused in inspecting the pistol that Thortonberry had given them. Trent clenched his teeth. Considering the way Audrey was suffering because of him, it served him right that he had to suffer Thortonberry as Bridgeport’s second. Dinnisfree raised the pistol to his chin and slid the metal back and forth over his beard, an ironic smile coming to his lips. “You need years to figure out if you made the right decisions, you say?”

He hated the way Dinnisfree liked to make his point by leading with questions. Trent was about one second away from smashing his fist into his friend’s too-perfect nose. Instead
,
he held out his hand for the pistol, which Dinnisfree slapped handle-down into Trent’s palm. He curled his fingers around the weapon, weighing it and calculating the distance from himself to Bridgeport and what would be the opportune time to delope. Calculations completed, he flicked his gaze across the dewy grass where Bridgeport stood, pistol in hand and feet spread to shoot. A rush of anticipation surged through Trent. Despite the fact he fully intended to delope once Bridgeport took a shot, Trent couldn’t control his body’s natural defensive reaction. He rolled his shoulders to try to relax.

Dinnisfree clasped him on the arm “Are you sure about this?”

Trent nodded, keeping his gaze on Bridgeport. “The man doesn’t have a chance in hell of hitting me. I’ll delope and it will be over and for the best.”

“
If you say so, but I don’t like the looks of Bridgeport.”

Trent focused in on Audrey’s brother. His features were tight, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

The duke shook his head. “There’s more on that man’s mind than his sister’s reputation.”

“
Likely you’re right,” Trent agreed. “But whatever is weighing on Bridgeport’s conscience isn’t going to make him a better shot.”

“
Take your marks, gentlemen,” Thortonberry called out.

Dinnisfree cleared away from Trent as he raised his pistol for show. There was no need to announce his plans to delope. He wanted Bridgeport to feel as vindicated as possible. Hopefully the man would think Trent considered him a superior shot and was acknowledging it with his actions.

Time to concentrate. He shoved all thoughts aside as Thortonberry called the firing signal. Bridgeport’s pistol recoiled with a harsh bang across the clearing and Trent jerked in reaction. The shot, just as he’d known it would be, was no danger. Trent raised his pistol straight to the sky and fired.

His plan completed, he found Dinnisfree to his left to assure himself the duel was over. Dinnisfree nodded his head in acknowledgement while walking toward Thortonberry to formally agree the duel was completed.

The rushing of blood in Trent’s ears blocked out all sound around him but that of his own heart’s effort to send blood throughout his body. Considering and discarding the best thing to say to Bridgeport, he turned his gaze back to Audrey’s brother.

Odd. He was hunched over, fussing with his ankle like he’d twisted it. When Bridgeport straightened, the hairs on the back of Trent’s neck stood on end. What the hell was the man doing? Bridgeport held a second pistol and strode toward him.

The call for action shot through Trent’s body.
Hell and damn.
His fingers curled around an empty pistol.

Bridgeport’s mouth twisted into a sneer.

“
Bridgeport,” Trent barked.

Audrey’s brother stopped five feet away.
Close enough for the bloodthirsty idiot to hit him.

He pointed the pistol at Trent.

Trent tensed.
Too late to run and nowhere to hide. Hell of a way to die
.

“
Bridgeport,” Dinnisfree roared. “I’ll kill you if you take that shot.”

A spark flashed in the distance.

Powder. Fire.

Trent dived to the right, the pistol shot filling his ears. The ground came hard and fast, forcing air from his lungs in a powerful explosion. He greedily sucked air back in. Rolling into a crouch, he scanned the park. Bridgeport lay prone under a raging Dinnisfree.

Footsteps thundered to a halt by his side. Thortonberry, huffing out air, loomed over Trent. “Lay back, Davenport, you’ve been hit.” Thortonberry said dully.

“
No.” Trent shook his head. “He missed me.”

“
I beg to differ.” Thortonberry pointed, his lips pursing.

Trent could not tell if the man was fighting a smile or trying not to grimace.

“
He got you in the arm.”

Trent glanced down, surprised to see blood dripping on the grass and his shirtsleeve stained dark crimson. Delayed pain exploded, searing a fiery path of agony up his arm. “Bloody fool,” Trent snarled, trying to stand even as the ground tilted in front of him. Above him the physician appeared. Trent frowned. Was he on the ground? Unsure, he set his good palm down. Cool, wet grass caressed his skin. Hell, he’d fallen on his back. Numbness crawled up his injured arm at an alarmingly rapid rate. “Thortonberry,” he growled as the doctor pushed him all the way down and ripped his shirtsleeve to get at the wound.

Thortonberry knelt and quirked his eyebrow. “Do you have some dying words you want me to convey to Lady Audrey?” Unmistakable amusement laced his tone.

Fierce anger surged through Trent. He used all his strength to reach up and grab the man’s coat lapels to jerk him near. The effort caused bright spots of light to pepper his vision before little dots of black appeared. “Keep quiet about this and stay the hell away from Lady Audrey.”

Thortonberry smirked. “I hardly think you are in a position to demand anything, not that you ever were. However, you can rest or die assured, be that as it may, that I would never mention a word of this duel. My every thought is for Lady Audrey and how to protect her.”

Even though most of the man’s words angered Trent, he was satisfied that Thortonberry meant what he said and would never utter a word of the duel. Trent released his hold and thudded back against the grass. He tried to fight the darkness shutting out all the light, but it was hopeless. As blackness started to consume everything but a picture of a brilliantly shining Audrey smiling at him, Trent realized Thortonberry had failed to promise to stay away from her. He struggled to form a proper threat, but his numb lips refused to cooperate.

The moment Audrey heard the carriage wheels rolling across the gravel drive she abandoned her pretense of embroidering and turned to her aunt. “Aunt Hillie, please let me speak with Richard first. He is likely to say more if it is just the two of us.”

Her aunt nodded. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Audrey pressed a kiss to her aunt’s cheek and raced out of the house to meet the carriage. Lord Thortonberry, his eyebrows drawn together in a fierce frown, descended the carriage first, followed swiftly by her brother. She scanned Richard, saw no signs of a wound and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Trent had been true to his word. Clearly, he’d deloped, because otherwise her brother would be injured or dead. Despite the deep hurt Trent had inflicted on her, gratitude swelled within her chest.