Page 79 of Maid for the Marquess

“Let us get on with it, then.”

We urged the horses forward, and I took in some deep breaths, settling my nerves. I dismounted, drawing myself up to my full height. I refused to show any hesitancy or worry in front of either man. I glared at Barnett, focusing my loathing in his direction.

Our eyes met, mine angry and determined. His were rheumy, bloodshot, and I noticed he was holding on to the cart, as if to steady himself. He looked even older than he had the day before.

All pluses for me.

As was customary, my physician was present, ready to come to my aid if necessary. I prayed he would not be required. I nodded my thanks to him, and he dipped his chin in return.

The weapons were checked, and Edward nodded in satisfaction. The rules were laid out, clear and concise. Ten paces. One shot.

“Gentlemen, your places.”

Time felt as if it were racing. My pulse beat rapidly, my heart pumping. I reached for my pistol, once again catching Barnett’s eye.

“We can end this peacefully. As gentlemen,” I urged, offering him one last reprieve.

“We will end it completely.” His voice was raspy and thick, indicating his own nerves.

“I have no wish to kill you. Allow me to purchase Milton Manor and erase your debts. Be done with this vendetta.”

He didn’t reply, continuing only to glare at me in distaste.

“As you wish.”

I held my head high as we counted off our steps.

I turned, pausing. I intended on firing my pistol into the air, hoping he would follow suit. But he was determined. His arm shook as he aimed, firing in my direction. As honor stated, I remained in place, his bullet whizzing past me. I felt the heat as it went by, the sound a low, dull hum in my ear.

I pointed my gun, but I didn’t engage until he did the unthinkable, breaking every rule of engagement.

He fired again.

Edward shouted out in fury as I shot my pistol for the first time. In my head, I imagined the bullets passing each other, a fury of heat and steel, seeking their targets. I felt the burn of the bullet as it tore through my flesh, and I stumbled back as the pain exploded in my left arm.

I dropped my pistol, clutching my limb. Barnett fell back on the ground, Leigh kneeling beside him. Instantly, Edward was at my side, grasping my shoulder.

“Alexander, where are you hurt?”

I grimaced. “My arm. His aim is as bad as I thought.” I looked over. “The bastard took a second shot. That was not what was agreed upon. He broke his word.”

“The coward,” he seethed. “He has no honor.”

“Is he dead?” I asked, seeing he hadn’t moved.

“If there is a God.”

Dr. Atwood appeared, pulling off my jacket. “You are lucky,” he muttered. “It’s a through and through.”

“Bandage it and tend to me later.”

“My lord⁠—”

“Check on Barnett,” I demanded. “Now.”

He wound a bandage around my arm and walked toward Barnett.

“What will you do, Alexander?”