Page 13 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke
“Take the doctor to the Duchess,” William told him.
Edward nodded and left the room, the doctor just behind him. Lord James walked to William, sitting beside him on the bed.
“How do you feel?” he asked William.
William looked into Lord James’ eyes and saw what he was really asking. It wasn’t about his arm.
“I lost. I don’t know how that feels,” William answered.
“I feel like a fool. I feel my honour is injured. I have let down the myth of William Marlow. He lost to a man as old as his father,” William continued.
“At least you didn’t lose your life,” Lord James answered him.
“Would it do my honour less injury if I did? I was saved by mother,” William said.
He forced himself to his feet, refusing his friend’s outstretched arm. The pain was ebbing but still palpable. He walked to the wardrobe and fingered the white shirt he had worn that day. The slash was still there in the sleeve, a smooth slice that was ragged at the endings. He fingered the tear and put his hand into it, rubbing it as if to seal up the tear with just his thoughts.
“I’ll be known as the dueler who was saved by his mother,” William said as he turned back to face his friend.
“That would never have come up if you had just yielded,” Lord James said.
William held fast to the wardrobe lest he fell. He couldn’t believe his friend had just said that.
“I should have yielded you say,” William repeated, confounded that Lord James said that.
Lord James rubbed his hand through his blond hair. He looked to William with eyes wide open. William knew his friend had never been as earnest as this with him.
“You could have taken his life many times. You will blame yourself for your looseness and lack of seriousness but the Duke was overmatched and the only reason he didn’t come away with more than a scarred back is because you let him. If you had been as serious as him, he would have been dead from the first stroke. You had no mind of killing the man, you haven’t killed any man in a duel before. You aren’t a murderer but you were fighting one. And that is where you made your first mistake. You cannot kill him, make sure he cannot kill you. You should have provided him greater injuries than a mere scratch, take away his will to fight. Maim him such that he would be unable to keep fighting.”
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking the Duchess saving you was not the right thing to do, we wouldn’t have been having this conversation if she didn’t. Duke Nicholas had no problems with taking your life. A mother will not watch her only son die in a duel, the heir to the throne. Play back that situation as many times as you like, in any form and tell me, in which of them did your mother not throw herself between you and the killer?”
William’s face was tight set as he listened to his friend. He shook his head at the happenings of the last few days.
“I was scared you would die,” Lord James said.
“Die?” William answered.
“You lost so much blood, William. You kept losing blood even till I brought you here,” Lord James replied.
William laughed at his friend, slapping his shoulder with his good hand.
“You speak like a man’s wife. Stop this silly talk,” William said.
Lord James looked like he was about to respond when a steward jumped into the room without knocking. William looked at him with wonder and fury combined. The steward was breathing hard, he had been running.
“What has caused this insolence? And it better be good,” William shouted.
The steward was smiling and nodded his head when William said that, he caught his breath before blurting out.
“The Duke is awake. The Duchess says to fetch you and your sister.”
William was surprised. His father had finally opened his eyes. This was great news. He gestured to his friend.
“Let’s go James. I might need to support myself on you,” William said.
Lord James didn’t look so sure he was meant to be there.
“Isn’t it better I allow the family the first honours? Your father would want to see you and the rest of your small family, not his son’s best friend,” he answered William.
