The Duke and I (25 page)

 But Colin didn't leave. He just reached over and squeezed his sister's hand. "I'll help you, Daff. You know I'd do anything for you."

 And Daphne just fell into his arms and let out all the tears she'd been keeping so valiantly inside.

 *  *  *

 Thirty minutes later, her eyes were dried and her mind was clear. She'd needed to cry; she realized that. There'd been too much trapped inside her—too much feeling, too much confusion, hurt, and anger. She'd had to let it out. But now there was no more time for emotion. She needed to keep a cool head and remain focused on her goal.

 Colin had gone off to question Anthony and Benedict, whom he'd said were talking in low and intense voices in Anthony's study. He'd agreed with her that Anthony had most probably asked Benedict to act as his second. It was Colin's job to get them to tell him where the duel was to take place. Daphne had no doubt that Colin would succeed. He'd always been able to get anybody to tell him anything.

 Daphne had dressed in her oldest, most comfortable riding habit. She had no idea how the morning wouldplay out, but the last thing she wanted was to be tripping over lace and petticoats.

 A swift knock on her door brought her to attention, and before she could even reach for the knob, Colin entered the room. He, too, had changed out of his evening clothes.

 "Did you find out everything?" Daphne asked urgently.

 His nod was sharp and brief. "We don't have much time to lose. I assume you want to try to get there before anyone

else arrives?"

 "If  Simon gets there before Anthony, maybe I can convince him to marry me before anyone even pulls out a gun."

 Colin let out a tense breath. "Daff," he began, "have you considered the possibility that you might not succeed?"

 She swallowed, her throat feeling like it had a cannonball lodged in it. "I'm trying not to think about that."

 "But—"

 Daphne cut him off. "If I think about it," she replied in a strained voice, "I might lose my focus. I might lose my nerve. And I can't do that. For Simon's sake, I can't do that."

 "I hope he knows what he has in you," Colin said quietly. "Because if he doesn't, I may have to shoot him myself."

 Daphne just said, "We'd better go."

 Colin nodded, and they were off

 *  *  *

 Simon guided his horse along Broad Walk, making his way to the farthest, most remote corner in the new Regent's Park. Anthony had suggested, and he had agreed, that they carry out their business far from May-fair. It was dawn, of course, and no one was likely to be out, but there was no reason to be flaunting a duel in Hyde Park.

 Not that Simon much cared that dueling was illegal. After all, he wouldn't be around to suffer the legal consequences.

 It was, however, a damned distasteful way to die. But Simon didn't see any alternatives. He had disgraced a gently bred

lady whom he could not marry, and now he must suffer the consequences. It was nothing Simon had not known before

he'd kissed her.                  

 As he made his way to the designated field, he saw that Anthony and Benedict had already dismounted and were waiting for him. Their chestnut hair ruffled in the breeze, and their faces looked grim.

 Almost as grim as Simon's heart.

 He brought his horse to a halt a few yards away from the Bridgerton brothers and dismounted.

 "Where is your second?" Benedict called out.

 "Didn't bother with it," Simon replied.

 "But you have to have a second! A duel isn't a duel without one."

 Simon just shrugged. "There didn't seem a point. You brought the guns. I trust you."

 Anthony walked toward him. "I don't want to do this," he said.

 "You don't have a choice."

 "But you do," Anthony said urgently. "You could marry her. Maybe you don't love her, but I know you like her well enough. Why won't you marry her?"

 Simon thought about telling them everything, all the reasons he'd sworn never to take a wife and perpetuate his line. But they wouldn't understand. Not the Bridgertons, who only knew that family was good and kind and true. They didn't know anything about cruel words and shattered dreams. They didn't know the impossible feeling of rejection.

 Simon then thought about saying something cruel, something that would make Anthony and Benedict despise him and get this mockery of a duel over with more' quickly. But that would require him to malign Daphne, and he just couldn't do that.

 And so, in the end, all he did was look up into the face of Anthony Bridgerton, the man who had been his friend since his earliest days at Eton, and said, "Just know it isn't Daphne. Your sister is the finest woman I've ever had the privilege to know."

 And then, with a nod to both Anthony and Benedict, he picked up one of the two pistols in the case Benedict had laid on the ground, and began his long walk to the north side of the field.

 "Waaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiittttttttt!"

 Simon gasped and whirled around. Dear God, it wasDaphne!

 She was bent low over her mare, in full gallop as she raced across the field, and for one stunned moment Simon forgot to be absolutely furious with her for interfering with the duel and instead just marveled at how utterly magnificent she looked in the saddle.

 By the time she yanked on the reins and brought the horse to a halt right in front of him, however, his rage was back in

full force.

 "What the
hell
do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

 "Saving your miserable life!" Her eyes flashed fire at him, and he realized he'd never seen her so angry.

 Almost as angry as he was. "Daphne, you little idiot. Do you realize how dangerous this little stunt was?" Without realizing what he was doing, his hands wrapped around her shoulders and started to shake. "One of us could have shot you."

 "Oh, please," she scoffed. "You hadn't even reached your end of the field."

 She had a point, but he was far too furious to acknowledge it. "And riding here in the dead of night by yourself," he yelled. "You should know better."

 "I do know better," she shot back. "Colin escorted me."

 "Colin?" Simon's head whipped back and forth as he looked for the youngest of her older brothers. "I'm going to kill him!"

 "Would that be before or after Anthony shoots you through the heart?"

 "Oh, definitely before," Simon growled. "Where is he? Bridgerton!" he bellowed.

 Three chestnut heads swiveled in his direction.Simon stomped across the grass, murder in his eyes. "I meant the idiot Bridgerton."

 "That, I believe," Anthony said mildly, tilting his chin toward Colin, "would refer to you."

 Colin turned a deadly stare in his direction. "And I was supposed to let her stay at home and cry her eyes out?"

 "Yes!" This came from three different sources.

 "Simon!" Daphne yelled, tripping across the grass after him. "Get back here!"

 Simon turned to Benedict. "Get her out of here."

 Benedict looked undecided.

 "Do it," Anthony ordered.

 Benedict held still, his eyes darting back and forth between his brothers, his sister, and the man who'd shamed her.

 "For the love of Christ," Anthony swore.

 "She deserves to have her say," Benedict said, and crossed his arms.

 "What the hell is wrong with you two?" Anthony roared, glaring at his two younger brothers.

 "Simon," Daphne said, gasping for breath after her race across the field, "you must listen to me."

 Simon tried to ignore her tugs on his sleeve. "Daphne, leave it. There's nothing you can do."

 Daphne looked pleadingly at her brothers. Colin and Benedict were obviously sympathetic, but there was little they could do to help her. Anthony still looked like an angry god.

 Finally she did the only thing she could think of to delay the duel. She punched Simon. In his good eye.

 Simon howled in pain as he staggered back. "What the hell was that for?"

 "Fall down, you idiot," she hissed. If he was prostrate on the ground, Anthony couldn't very well shoot him.

 "I am certainly not going to fall down!" He clutched his eye as he muttered, "Good God, being felled by a woman. Intolerable."

 "Men," Daphne grunted. "Idiots, all." She turned to her brothers, who were staring at her with identical expressions of openmouthed shock. "What are you looking at?" she snapped. Colin started to clap. Anthony smacked him in the shoulder. "Might I have one, single, tiny, ever-so-brief moment with his grace?" she asked, half the words mere hisses. Colin and Benedict nodded and walked away. Anthony didn't move.

 Daphne glared at him. "I'll hit you, too." And she might have done it too, except that Benedict returned and nearly yanked Anthony's arm out of the socket as he pulled him away.

 She stared at Simon, who was pressing his fingers against his eyebrow, as if that might lessen the pain in his eye.

 "I can't believe you punched me," he said. She glanced back at her brothers to make sure they'd moved out of earshot.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

 "I don't knowwhat you hoped to accomplish here," he said.

 "I should think that would be abundantly obvious." He sighed, and in that moment he looked weary and sad and infinitely old. "I've already told you I cannot marry you."

 "You have to. "

 Her words emerged with such urgency and force that he looked up, his eyes on sharp alert. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice a study in control.

 "I mean that we were seen."

 "By whom?"

 "Macclesfield."

 Simon relaxed visibly. "He won't talk." "But there were others!" Daphne bit her lip. It wasn't necessarily a lie. There might

have been others. In fact, there probably
were
others. "Whom?"

 "I don't know," she admitted. "But I've heard rumblings. By tomorrow it will be all over London."

 Simon swore so viciously that Daphne actually took a step back.

 "If you don't marry me," she said in a low voice, "I will be ruined."

 "That's not true." But his voice lacked conviction.

 "It is true, and you know it." She forced her eyes to meet his. Her entire future—and his life!—was riding on this moment. She couldn't afford to falter. "No one will have me. I shall be packed away to some godforsaken corner of the country—"

 "You know your mother would never send you away."

 "But I will never marry. You know that." She took a step forward, forcing him to acknowledge her nearness. "I will be

forever branded as used goods. I'll never have a husband, never bear children—"

 "Stop!" Simon fairly yelled. "For the love of God, just stop."

 Anthony, Benedict, and Colin all started at his shout, but Daphne's frantic shake of her head kept them in their places.

 "Why can't you marry me?" she asked in a low voice. "I know you care for me. What is it?"

 Simon wrapped his hand across his face, his thumb and forefinger pressing mercilessly into his temples. Christ, he had a headache. And Daphne—dear God, she kept moving closer. She reached out and touched his shoulder, theft his cheek. He wasn't strong enough. Dear God, he wasn't going to be strong enough.

 "Simon," she pleaded, "save me."

 And he was lost.

 Chapter 12

 A duel, a duel, a duel. Is there anything more exciting, more romantic... or more utterly moronic?

 It has reached This Author's ears that a duel took place earlier this week in Regent's Park. Because dueling is illegal, This Author shall not reveal the names of the perpetrators, but let it be known that This Author frowns heavily upon such violence .

 Of course, as this issue goes to press, it appears that the two dueling idiots(
I am loath to call them gentlemen;
 

 that would imply a certain degree of intelligence, a quality which, if they ever possessed it, clearly eluded them

that morning) are both unharmed .

 One wonders if perhaps an angel of sensibility and rationality smiled down upon them that fateful morn .

 If so, it is the belief of This Author that This Angel ought to shed her influence on a great many more men of

 the
ton. Such an action could only make for a more peaceful and amiable environment, leading to a vast improvement of our world
.

 Lady Whistledown's Society Papers,19 May 1813

 Simon raised ravaged eyes to meet hers. "I'll marry you," he said in a low voice, "but you need to know—"

 His sentence was rendered incomplete by her exultant shout and fierce hug. "Oh, Simon, you won't be sorry," she said, her words coming out in a relieved rush. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, but they glowed with joy. "I'll make you happy. I promise you. I'll make you so happy. You won't regret this."