Page 59 of Not Quite a Lady
‘Andhe knows there are six witnesses to his behaviour. Randall will not show his face in town for a while, I’ll wager.’
‘You will do, Lord Allerton.’ The surgeon straightened up. ‘Get your clothes on before you catch the chill. I would not be surprised if you take a fever, even so.’
That was it: business done, scores settled. Nothing to stop him taking the next coach north. Home.
As Jack got to his feet and began to shrug on his shirt with Lord Gledhill’s assistance, Lily sank back away from the bush she had been hiding behind.
I am not going to faint. I amnot.
To have crouched there, silent, through that interminable, formalised, ritual had been a nightmare. It had all seemed impossibly unreal at first as the men stood and talked in their little groups, as though they were striking a bargain over the price of something, or solemnly conferring on a matter of law.
Then the shock of seeing Jack stripping off, the shame of feeling a thrill run through her at the physical power of him and then the terror of seeing Adrian raise his pistol and fire.
To see the bullet strike Jack, tear through skin and muscle, watch him stand there as the blood coursed down his arm...
She had shaken with reaction when she realised he was not killed and was then struck with terror that he would drop Adrian where he stood and become a fugitive – that was worse than she could ever have believed possible.
Swallowing, Lily backed out from her cover and hurried away through the spinney. Before she could reach the carriage nausea overtook her and she clung to a sapling, retching miserably until the fit passed.
She climbed into the carriage with legs that trembled and sank into her corner again. Mr Welch joined her after an interminable wait that had her believing that Jack had collapsed through loss of blood, or that the bullet had pierced some vital organ after all.
Twice she had got up and reached for the door handle, twice she had made herself sit down again to try and wait calmly.
‘What did you see?’ he demanded without ceremony as the coachman cracked his whip. One look at her face must have told him the truth.
‘Everything,’ Lily admitted. ‘Is he all right? Was he badly hurt?’
‘He will live. He is young and tough.’ The surgeon regarded her from under dark brows, sighed, and let the window blinds up. ‘Another scar to add to an impressive collection. Don’t yougo rushing round there disturbing him and weeping all over him – I have told him to get as much sleep as he can, not that that is an easy task at an inn as busy as the Bull & Mouth.’
Lily dropped her gaze to her hands, demurely folded in her lap. So that was where Jack was.
Yes, let him rest for a day and a night, then she would go to him and apologise. For everything. Not that she expected much from that, but at least they might part as friends.
I love you…but you do not want me.
‘Thank Heavens Lord Allerton did not kill Lord Randall,’ she said, recalling her other great fear.
‘Indeed. Although Lord Randall may yet come to wish Allerton had, when word gets out of how he behaved.’ Lily looked her surprise. ‘Did you not realise? Randall should have waited for the second to callFire.Effectively he cheated and did himself more damage than Allerton could ever hope to.’
‘Did Ja…did Lord Allerton deliberately miss? I can see that might be an added insult.’
Men were so peculiar, with their mysterious honour and their rituals. What was the point of all this lethal business if, in the end, you did not try and hit your opponent?
‘Delope.’ The doctor nodded. ‘Yes, it is quite common where one duellist wishes to show that he has no wish to harm the other, merely to make a point. Or sometimes two hot-headed friends find themselves in that position and both delope.’
No, it seemed she would never understand this male pride, and somehow that made it all worse. She did not understand such an essential part of the man she loved, and she had misjudged how to deal with him.
Well, she might not understand honour, but she did know how to apologise when she had been wrong, and she was going to end this with dignity.
Attempting to find a single gentleman in the organised chaos that was the Bull and Mouth at nine o’clock on a Thursday morning proved anything but dignified.
Lily had dressed with care in the most sober and restrained of her walking dresses, studied herself in the mirror and removed half of the items of jewellery she had put on, thought again and removed several more, then had Janet take the plumes out of her new hat.
She was still wrestling with the concept that consciously failing to demonstrate your wealth was somehow more of a sign of class than flaunting it, but that approach had certainly seemed to win her approval from the Society matrons and, to some extent, from Jack. And she wanted him to remember her with approval.
She had deliberately left her footman and her maid with the carriage. It might be highly improper to visit a man in his rooms alone, but she had no intention of having any witnesses to her carefully composed, dignified, speech of regret, thanks and farewell.
As a result she had to use her elbows to make her way through the throng, was narrowly missed by a valise thrown from the top of a stage and knew herself to be both flushed and flustered by the time she reached the interior of the inn.
