Page 24 of Her Passionate Duke

“Months. Years,” said Monsieur Fournier coolly. “It is the only reason I ever came to your filthy country.”

“I suppose that we ought to have known that all of that talk about peace and diplomacy was just cover for your true motives.” The Duke tried to kick to one side, but Monsieur Fournier still held him pinned, with the Duke’s arm twisted terribly beneath him. “I ought to have known better than to trust a Frenchman who claimed to like English food!”

Linnet strangled the odd, almost hysterical spurt of laughter which rose in her throat at those words. Monsieur Fournier did laugh – and it was not a pleasant sound.

“Perhaps in the future you will not be so naïve.”

Around them, everyone seemed frozen, watching with horror, and unable to move. Linnet never knew quite what possessed her to do it, but everything suddenly seemed preternaturally clear. In a room full of people, why was no-one helping the Duke? While the other guests ran for the exit or stood, gaping, Linnet stepped to one side and began walking purposefully, carefully, circling around the fighting men.

The two men paid her little attention - by now they were so busy fighting that they scarcely noticed the people running or the screams of some of the women. In the chaos they had inspired it was easy for Linnet to slip past them unobserved.

She reached the fireplace, feeling the Prince Regent’s eyes upon her, and crouched, reaching for the gun, but only succeeded in pushing it further under the grate. Annoyed and angry, she realised that she would not have been able to use it, anyway, for surely it would require reloading. She glanced around, desperate for a weapon, and snatched up the only thing which seemed at all useful - the fire iron.

She spun, lifting it high, and brought it down hard against Monsieur Fournier’s back, close to his neck – she had aimed for his head, but the blow had gone slightly off target.

Monsieur Fournier, as if sensing the danger, had twisted at the last moment. But in so doing he lost his balance, allowing the Duke to surge up with a desperate effort, and flip the man onto the floor. Fournier cursed loudly in French, and pushed back upwards – but the Duke now had the advantage.

As Monsieur Fournier tried to rise, the Duke, on his knees beside the man, swung his fist in a roundhouse blow which connected to Monsieur Fournier’s chin with a crack. For a moment, the man struggled to recover his balance, wincing, then fell backward, landing very hard on the floor, and obviously winding himself, for he lay gasping, unable to breathe.

The Duke bent, and twisted Monsieur Fournier onto his front, pulled his hands up together, and sat on him. Seeing a footman standing close by, he called out to him.

“Potter, quickly, get me something to bind him with – the curtain ties will do.” The Duke then turned his gaze to Linnet, who still stood, fire poker in hand, somewhat dazed and unsure what to do next. She still couldn’t believe that she had struck a man. “Thank you. But don’t hit him again, whatever you do, or you might kill him. And we need him fit and alive for the hangman’s noose.”

At these words, Monsieur Fournier squirmed again, but a swift blow across the side of his head stilled him, as the footman dropped down beside them and began to tie his hands.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Linnet said quietly. “I could not simply stand there, and let him harm you, as he was trying to do. I just saw the opportunity, grabbed the only weapon I could reach, and attacked.”

“Well, you did the right thing,” said the Duke.

The footman had finished binding Monsieur Fournier, and the Duke rose, turned, and recovered the gun from beneath the grate. Monsieur Fournier, meanwhile, muttered incoherently in French, his eyes full of hatred. Looking past him Linnet could see Lady Caroline, her face now cradled on her mother’s shoulder, sobbing quietly.

Another voice made her turn back to fully face the Duke. The Prince Regent stood beside him – it was he who was speaking

“Yes, you very much did the right thing. And I am most grateful. Those employed to ensure my safety, in both obvious, and less obvious ways,” here the Prince Regent nodded in the Duke’s direction, “do their best, but at times, more is needed. And this evening, you have done as well as I would expect from one of them, trained as they are. In fact, you have done better, for you have succeeded in felling the villain. I will not forget your actions this night, Lady Linnet.”

Linnet nearly fainted away at his words – not only had the Prince Regent spoken to her, he had thanked her… by name! The Duke took her elbow gently to steady her as she wavered in place, the fire poker dropping from her fingers to clatter on the floor.

“Indeed, you have succeeded where I was failing, and I have no doubt that Fournier would have done me severe damage if not for your timely intervention. I must only hope that the Prince Regent can forgive me my inefficiency.”

At this, the Prince Regent waved a hand in a casual gesture.

“This time, Grantsham, you are forgiven. But don’t let such a thing happen again.” He turned, and gestured to a footman, who hurried over. “You, provide me with a private parlour, and substantial refreshments.”

The footman bowed.

“This way, Your Highness.”

The Prince Regent gave a regal nod in Linnet’s direction, then turned, and followed the footman away. Linnet sagged a little where she stood, and the Duke supported her gently.

She looked up at him, smiling.

“So that was what all of those confusing little things were about - all this time you really did have a secret ‘career’, protecting the Prince Regent.”

He nodded, still smiling broadly.

“Yes – but that is not something to talk of here, amongst so many people. Come, let me find you a quiet spot, and some refreshment – you look even more unsteady than the Prince Regent did. Some food and a cup of tea will no doubt restore you.”

Linnet glanced around, only then becoming aware of the rustle of conversation in the room, and of all of the people who stared at her. Embarrassed, she wished that the floor might open up and swallow her. What had she done? Now she would be the talk of the town for months to come. Young ladies of the ton did not, most definitely did not, hit ambassadors, even villainous ones, over the head with fire pokers!