Chapter Twenty
Harry and Mirandawalked back down the grassy slope to the farm side by side. A large part of him wanted to reach out and take her hand, but something held him back. Yes, she’d said she loved him, but she was also angry. Furious, even. And he had to admit she was right to be.
And yet, despite her understandable fears, the thought of the duel to come did nothing to frighten him. It was as if he’d suddenly woken from a long sleep. As if he’d been in hibernation since his injury at Waterloo. And she was not the only reason for this awakening. The idea of fighting for her, for this was what it would be, appealed to the part of him that was still a soldier. The part of him who’d on occasion been moved to seize a gun from a dead rifleman and fire it at the enemy in direct contradiction of his vow to save lives.
He might be a doctor, but he had never been just that. He’d killed. He’d seen at least one enemy soldier fall due his firing of a gun, and he knew he could do it again. Plus, he was as good a shot as he’d claimed. He’d been in the Rifle Brigade and had practiced with just such a weapon, and could hit a target consistently at three-hundred yards. But this would not be a rifle, nor even a musket with which he could perform the same trick at one-hundred yards. It would be a pistol, whose accuracy was no more than twenty yards. And the two protagonists would be standing at that exact distance apart, so neither avoiding being hit oneself or hitting one’s opponent could be guaranteed.
They reached the stile and he handed her over it then climbed over himself. The buildings of Rampton Farm loomed ahead. Dick had turned the horses out in their absence and they were grazing beneath the oak trees on the right. They lifted their heads to inspect their visitors, then returned to the important task of eating.
At the yard gate, he opened it to let her through and followed her across the yard. By the farmhouse door, she turned to face him. He stopped, the mushroom basket still in his hand. This whole walk down had been accomplished in silence.
She wetted her lips. “You are to say nothing.”
What?
She nodded and kept her voice low. “I will not have my daughters placing any confidence in you as a prospective stepfather with the danger of tomorrow hanging over you. Over us. We will not inform them until it is over and done with.” She hesitated but he knew exactly what she wasn’t saying.
“You will only tell them if I’m not dead.”
She nodded. “You have it.” Her eyes had a bleak expression in them. So bleak that regret welled in his chest. For a moment he had to wonder if perhaps he shouldn’t have accepted the madman’s challenge. But only for that one moment. It was all part of his awakening. If he shirked this challenge he would be a lesser man. He would have felt he’d taken the coward’s way out. Even though he’d allowed the insults to wash over him and Sir Julian to be the one to issue the challenge, it didn’t seem to matter. He needed this almost as much as he needed Miranda.
He nodded. “Very well.”
She gave the merest hint of a smile, but there was sadness in her lovely blue eyes. “Then you may come in and Betsey will cook the mushrooms for our breakfast.”
Lissy was awokenby what felt like a heavy weight jumping onto her bed and bouncing up and down. She opened bleary eyes and peered up into Megs’ earnest face. “Wake up,” her younger sister hissed in a loud whisper. “You have to wake up.”
Lissy struggled into a semi-upright position and rubbed her eyes. This felt like a very ungodly time of the morning. “Whatever do you want?” Her words came out in a raspy mumble as her mouth was as dry as she imagined a desert might be. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk so much wine last night. But it had been so tempting and so delicious and she’d been more than a little carried away by the attentions of Robert Skeffington and the good food. She’d found the evening not nearly so bad as she wanted everyone else to think.
“Cousin Harry is downstairs.” Megs jumped up and down a bit more and Lissy felt a distinct inclination to cast up her accounts. That might also be the wine.
She swallowed that down. “Do stop bouncing up and down. I have a terrible headache and feel quite nauseous. And what on earth do you mean?” She glanced at the window where bright, early-morning sunshine was streaming in. “It’s far too early for polite callers. In fact, it’s far too early for me to even be awake. Especially after last night. Go away and leave me alone. Go and bother Mims instead.”
“Mims is sitting on the stairs listening,” Megs said. “Mama and Cousin Harry and Betsey are all in the kitchen, but the door to the parlor is open so Mims can hear them talking. They’ve been out collecting mushrooms together.” She giggled as though this was the most significant of occurrences.
However, the import of her sister’s words began to sink in. Lissy sat up a bit straighter as her brain began to work properly. “Mushroom collecting?” How odd was that. Mama and Cousin Harry at this hour of the morning. Out after mushrooms. No. Megs had to have it upside down and front to back, which would be typical of her.
Megs nodded with vigor. “Mims told me to wake you up. Breakfastsmells delicious, by the way, but we’re not going down because we want to give them time together. For our plan to work. You know.” She gave Lissy a wide grin. “The plan.”
“Oh. The plan.” Lissy rubbed her eyes some more, still not fully grasping what Megs seemed to think was so important about this. Odd, yes, but important? Probably not. “So what do you want me to do?”
Megs heaved a deep sigh. “Get up, of course. Come on. I’ll help you with your stays. Then we can all go down and listen. I think,” and here she waggled her eyebrows up and down, “that our plan might be working. Why else would they both be up so early and out mushroom collecting together? Ask yourself that?”
Lissy pushed the blankets back and got out of bed with a deep sigh. “Mushroom collecting is not quite what I would call a romantic assignation, you know.” Her everyday gown lay on the chair in the corner along with her undergarments. She began to pull them on.
Megs hurried to help her. “On the contrary, I would say any early morning assig…assig…what you said…is romantic. Surely?”
Lissy wriggled into her stays and Megs tightened the laces a little ham-fistedly. “What time is it?”
“No idea. Early though. Dick turned the horses out about ten minutes ago. I heard their hooves in the yard. And then I heard Mama and Cousin Harry talking just by the front door. Outside, you understand. Mine and Mims’ bedroom window is right over the front porch. I heard every word they said.”
Lissy raised her eyebrows. “You did? Haven’t you been warned before about eavesdropping?”
Megs wrinkled her nose. “I couldn’t help it. I’d have had to put my hands over my ears not to hear.”
“And you’d never have done that.”
“Of course not. Do you think I’m silly? I sort of tried not to listen, though. A bit…”
