Page 111 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke
“This is a mistake, William.”
“Yes, a very big one,” the Duke answered, interjecting into their conversation.
William shook his head.
“And son, do not be deluded. This time it is a fight to the death. Henrietta will not be there to save you this time,” the Duke said.
William said nothing. His grip on Joane’s arm tightened. Joane knew he was angry now.
“I won’t need her.”
The Duke laughed aloud. His laughter was deep in timbre, ringing out loud. William shook his head and turned away. He walked towards the stable and ordered for his mount. Joane ran after him, tapping him from behind.
“You should not have said yes,” she said hastily.
William looked at her like she was a stranger. His eyes were looking into her eyes but were looking past her at the same time. He didn’t respond. His lips remained pursed until his stallion was brought to him.
“Why wouldn’t I accept it? This is my chance to redeem myself,” he said.
He turned to face the horse, setting up the saddle and backing Joane. There was an ignition of a creeping fear in Joane.
He doesn’t want to even look at me.
“You shouldn’t accept it because of the cost.”
She dragged his arm with force, making him turn around. The look on his face was one she had never seen on him; there was pain there. Joane felt like dragging him into her embrace and holding him close to her bosom until he closed his eyes in restful bliss.
“What is the cost, Joane?” William asked.
“I, I am the cost. You do this and you risk losing me. If you lose this fight, William, there is no chance father would even entertain the idea of us being together,” she said.
William shook his head. His mouth bubbled to speak but words did not emit. Joane put her hands on his two arms, holding him tight.
“Or do I mean so little to you? Have you no feeling for me?” she said.
He pulled his arms out of her arms and held her hands, entwining their fingers.
“What option do I have? Your father will not hear of us without the duel. The duel is the only way we can be together,” he said.
Joane looked into his eyes.
Is that really why he is taking this fight?
“If that is the reason you want to take the fight then don’t. We will find a way to convince him to change his mind; if I am the prize in this violent contest, then I ask that you do not partake,” she said.
William managed a stressed smile. His eyes still carried the pained emotion.
“It doesn’t work that way,” he said.
He mounted his horse and rubbed through its thick mane.
“That’s because you aren’t fighting for me. You are fighting for your pride, yourself. Please William, listen to me,” she said.
She decided to try another tactic, to test if he would respond to that.
“So you intend to kill my father, fight to the death?” she asked.
William chuckled.
