Page 69 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
“Write it out while I go arrange for the surgeon.”
“I’ll have one more note to carry to the Duquesa.Have someone stand by to run messages tonight.I fear we won’t get much sleep.”
“We’ve gone sleepless before.”Kincaid plopped his empty glass on the sideboard and walked to the door.
“Kincaid?”
His old friend paused.
“Stop by and roust our apothecary out of his warm bed.I’ve in mind a tonic we used once in Bavaria.Do you remember the one?”
Kincaid grinned and left.
A short while later,Shaldon finished consulting with Lloyd, sent Kincaid off with his first round of formal letters, and made his way to his bedchamber.
Should he change and visit Gerrard Street?
Her words came back to him…she was not too old for their coupling to have consequences.One more document must be prepared.
When he entered his bedchamber, he found Charles there, sprawled in the chair by the dead fireplace, eyes closed.His youngest son would make one last attempt to wrest this obligation from him.
When the door clicked closed, Charles shot to his feet.
“Have you seen to Penderbrook?”Shaldon asked.
“I gave up and left him in the care of a patient footman.He’s still scribbling letters.Morose as hell and determined to die like a man.He’s begged me to help him sneak away in the morning to see Lady Jane.Won’t believe I don’t know where she is.”
“Your wife hasn’t told you?She’s at Hackwell’s vacant townhouse on Gerrard Street.”
He blinked, no doubt absorbing the notion that Graciela had held back the secret.A grin split his face.“Good God.By herself?”
“Jenny is with her.And we’ve added other staff for her safety.”
“Perhaps…perhaps, Father, you should go stay with her tonight.”
Only years of practice allowed him to hide his astonishment.And pleasure.
Charles squeezed his hands into fists.“There’s certainly the chance of danger for her, with Payne-Elsdon bringing up her name.Perhaps the Duque has discovered her connection to the painting.”He cleared his throat.“Sirena said you were…you were out all night last night, and that you’ve, er, asked Lady Jane to marry you.”
He loosened his neck cloth and tossed it aside, suddenly fatigued.Not ready for his bed though.He’d rather catch his second wind in the night air.
A dark jumper and coat had been set out for him.Should he don them, or not?
Charles walked closer and braced a hand on the mantel.“Which we all agree will be capital.Gracie did find it odd that Lady Jane wept so much at our wedding.”He shook his head.“But of course—she’d just met her son.I suppose you’re right though.It would be odd for Penderbrook to call on her in the early morning.She’ll know, the way the ladies always seem to know, that something is wrong, and she’ll winkle it out of him.Then she’ll demand he not fight, they’ll argue, and he’ll go away doubting himself.Best to let her know in a letter he cared for her.”
“He’s not going to die tomorrow.”
Charles huffed.“Father.Youdon’tmean to fight in his place?”
He turned away.He would fight and he would win.
“But…a man of your age?And Penderbrookmustappear.His honor…he’ll be called a coward…you don’t…Father?What are you planning?”
What he was planning needed more thought.He needed Charles to leave.
He needed Jane.He needed her in his arms, in his bed.
And what if shewinkled outthe news of the duel from him?She’d already blasted through years of stoic reserve.She’d turned him into a young fool all over again.
