Page 68 of Rose and the Rogue
“A duel! Against who?”
“No idea. That’s why I want to go and discover who challenged him and what they know.”
“Whoever it is must be desperate,” Rose said, briefly muffled as Alice pulled a dress over her head. “Norbury is known to be excellent at dueling.”
“Well, someone must think they’re better at it. Or they’ve got a death wish.”
“Adrian only fights to first blood,” Rose said defensively.
“What if the other man insisted on pistols? First blood could mean death if it hits the wrong place on the body. Are your shoes on yet? Hurry!”
Rose did her best, and soon the girls were creeping through the silent house to reach the front door, where John had called for a carriage, which was now waiting in the street.
He sounded quite upset. “Mr. Blake will have my head if he finds out.”
“He won’t,” Poppy assured him. “We’ll tell him that we called for the carriage ourselves. You and Alice go back inside. We hope to be back in an hour, well before anyone else wakes up.”
Inside the carriage, Rose could barely sit on the bench seat. She was now awake enough to fret, and she could only wonder what horrors lay in store at Darthmore Abbey. Was it possible that Adrian could die today? She was furious at him, of course, but she did not want him to die! Nor did she want him to kill.
Oh, men were so difficult! All the nonsense about their honor and who had the right to challenge another, and why did they decide fighting was the answer to everything?
“It must be a man of his class,” Rose mused aloud. Adrian would ignore a challenge from a commoner.
“Gentry, at least,” Poppy agreed. “But who else would have an interest in rumors about you? This is something only society cares about.”
“You’re quite certain it is about me? He could be fighting about some other affair.”
“No, de la Guerra specially noted it was about you. I don’t think he would have bothered to send the message otherwise. After all, it’s not as if you could care what happens to Norbury now, correct? You hate him.”
There was something sly in Poppy’s tone, but Rose disregarded it, because she knew as well as Poppy that whatever she felt for Adrian, it wasn’t hate. Fury, rage, hurt, confusion…but not hate.
Aloud, she said, “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt on my account.”
“You’ve been hurt on your account,” Poppy said. “I wish I could fight duels, and then I’d defend your honor myself.”
“Poppy, please don’t say that. It’s bad enough that men act so foolish. Don’t you start.”
Poppy gave a snort. “I wouldn’t be starting, I’d be finishing. Honestly, if women were allowed to defend themselves instead of relying on the nearest male figure who deigns to care, the world would be considerably more peaceful.”
“Or all the men would run away in fear,” Rose suggested, imagining Poppy with a sword, and finding it all too easy.
“Another way to say more peaceful!” There was a laugh in Poppy’s voice, and Rose giggled too.
“Oh, I shouldn’t laugh. This is too serious.”
“Perhaps it won’t be so bad. I know the seconds are supposed to talk just beforehand, and get the parties to come to a resolution before the duel. Something about the prospect of steel in the belly might make the fighters consider their options.”
Rose bit her lip. She doubted Adrian would be swayed by last-minute negotiations. She thought of him dying on the green field as the sun broke over the horizon, and shivered.
Poppy leaned over and put her arm around Rose. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it will work out, somehow.”
“It’s the somehow that worries me,” Rose said. “How far is it?”
“Not far.”
“Is it dawn yet?”
“Not yet. But soon. Very soon.”
