Page 19 of The Odd Riddle of the Lost Duchess
Lady Alford gasped, horrified at St. Maur’s atrocious behavior. “What appalling manners you have! You, Sir, are in the presence of ladies and such conduct is despicable.”
“You think I care for people who keep company with a Fitzroy?” St. Maur said obnoxiously, without even looking at the ladies.
“I am warning you, St. Maur,” Noah replied coldly, “Do not let me do it again. Apologize to my guests and leave!”
“Now, gentlemen! I shall not have such talk here! Especially in the presence of my innocent niece,” Lady Alford said indignantly.
St. Maur sneered, “How innocent can one be while riding with this scoundrel?”
Now Emmeline was the one to gasp and the red of mortification flushed her face, but Noah stepped in, his voice soft with deadly fury, “That is it, St. Maur. Tomorrow at dawn at the old dairy farm. Name your seconds.”
The man spun on his heel and stalked away, and the Duke looked at the ladies. “I apologize. I could not let that man talk to both of you that way, especially you, Lady Emmeline. To call your virtue into question is reprehensible to me. Please, forget this happened. He is an old enemy of mine, and he revels in making a scene.”
Emmeline was aware of many eyes staring at them, and muttering behind gloved hands and strategically-opened parasols.
“Will you meet him at dawn, Your Grace?” asked Emmeline worriedly.
“Lady Emmeline!” Lady Alford gasped.
“You need not to concern yourself, Lady Emmeline,” the Duke said grimly. “I apologize that our ride was ruined.”
Emmeline was not all that concerned about her reputation, instead, she feared for Noah’s life. St. Maur did not seem like a man to be trifled with.
She briefly wondered how frequently the Duke involved himself in duels, and how easy it was for him to gather enemies. However, her worry about his life outweighed any other fleeting thoughts. She didn’t know how she could sleep that night as her mind was going to be fixed on Noah.
When they halted before Lady Alford’s townhouse, Emmeline waited for her Aunt to enter the house. She knew that attempting to convince the Duke to not face his opponent tomorrow was not an option, as it was a matter of honor. The best she could do was to pray for his safety.
“Be careful, Your Grace,” Emmeline whispered to the Duke. “I do not want you to get injured.”
“Why, I am honored that you are concerned for me, Lady Grant,” the Duke said teasingly.
“This is not a time to jest!” scowled Emmeline. “Promise me you will be careful.”
“Ye of little faith,” he teased, with a knowing glint in his eyes. “I know my way around a pistol, Lady Emmeline–my firing hand is as direct as the sight of God.”
“Your Grace!” Emmeline cried, appalled.
“How about a wager, My Lady?” the Duke offered soberly. “I will promise to come back to you unhurt, if you agree to call me by my given name, from now on.”
“All right, I will, and you’ll do the same…Noah,” Emmeline agreed, after a moment’s hesitation. “Now, promise me.”
“I promise…Emmeline,” he said softly, his eyes a warm gray.
“You will send word to me tomorrow?” Emmeline fretted.
He smiled. “I shall.”
* * *
Watery shades of pink and orange spread through the dusky gray sky, as the sun struggled to peek through the clouds that were collecting on the horizon. In an abandoned field at the outskirts of London, three men waited for their opponents to arrive.
“I do not believe they will arrive, Noah,” Henry said, crushing a cigar stub under his boot.
Lord Croxton and the Earl of Bexley had agreed to be Noah’s seconds.
Lord Bexley, with his shock of red hair flying in the wind, frowned at the dreary sky. “It is about to pour, as well. We have waited an hour.”
“What do you suggest?” Lord Croxton asked Noah.
