Page 2 of A Lady's Wager
The stranger stopped as Corah’s hand fell to her side. The two men stood toe to toe, Mr. Haltwhistle breathing heavily like a bull ready to charge, and the newcomer completely unaffected.
Mr. Haltwhistle folded his arms. “I thought you were at sea, Mr. Bradford.”
“My ship was paid off and I am on leave until my next commission.”
Corah looked between them, chest tightening. Though fewer people occupied the corridor, the three of them still drew attention. Marriageable women should not draw attention. Not like this. Grandfather had reminded her of that on too many occasions.
“Which ship?” Mr. Haltwhistle’s tone had taken on a skeptic tautness.
“I am most recently of theSt. George, but I am to join HMSAdamantin a few weeks.”
Her brother had just transferred from theSt. Georgeto theAdamant. Corah inched back. Mr. Haltwhistle was right—who did this newcomer think he was? And how did he know so much about Richard?
Mr. Haltwhistle sniffed. “I find it difficult to believe the Royal Navy would stoop to commissioning so offensive a welp as you.”
“Offensive welp?” The stranger snorted. “I see you forgot your wit at home this evening.”
Mr. Haltwhistle drew himself up to his full height. “I thought your family of better breeding than this. How can you bear him, Miss Bradford?”
“She can stand me much easier than she can stand a sweat-drenched, leering cad like you, of that I am certain.”
Corah bit her lips against the bark of laughter that nearly burst from her. Such directness. And truth.
Mr. Haltwhistle’s face flamed, his eyes widening into an unbecoming blend of horror and rage. He sputtered. “I demand a public apology for these offenses.”
The stranger shrugged. “You’ll be dead before you get one.”
“Portland Square. Tomorrow morning,” Mr. Haltwhistle hissed.
A duel. Her heart jumped to her throat. “This is madness.”
“I’ll be there,” the newcomer said with a smirk.
Mr. Haltwhistle turned on his heel and stomped away to the faint announcement that supper was served. Corah clapped her hand to her forehead. What had just happened?
“You’ll have to—” the young man began, but she overrode him, an unintended shrillness in her voice.
“Have you lost your mind completely?”
Derrick Owens couldn’t help a chuckle at Miss Bradford’s bewilderment. She’d paled but for the light brush of rouge on her cheeks and lips, a stark contrast from the flush that had graced her skin in the ballroom. Those hazel eyes caught him as securely as a gale pinning a ship against leeward shore.
Bradford had mentioned her kindness, her excitement, her intelligence, but he had failed to mention how attractive his sister was. Though one could hardly expect more from a new midshipman.
“My mind is steady as ever,” he said, hauling his smile back in. It wouldn’t do for her to think he was mocking her.
“A duel?” She lowered her voice, arms rigid at her sides. “Over a woman you hardly know? We haven’t even been introduced.”
“You seemed distressed by that overdressed louse.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t stand by and watch one of Bradford’s relations get harassed by such—”
“How do you know my brother?” she demanded. “How do you knowme?”
Scenes of dark lower decks splashed with orange lantern light played through his mind. Swapping jokes with the young gentlemen—Bradford, Addison, Brenton, and all the other mids—in evening hours when responsibilities had eased and the sun had drawn most of the worries of the day down with it. Bradford liked talking about his family. And not having one of his own, Derrick liked listening.
“He was one of the midshipmen under my watch aboard theSt. George.”
Her face softened, recognition lighting her features. “You’re Lieutenant Owens.”
“At your service.” He bowed. “I take it he’s mentioned me in his letters.”
