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Ten minutes later the curricle was at the front door, Jackson already in the seat. As Marcus gathered up the reins Marissa appeared on the doorstep, fully dressed, a cloak around her shoulders. ‘Marcus, what are you going to do?’
‘Call on Sir Frederick, find the Colonel, get Captain Cross’s direction – and break his neck.’
'Take me with you. Nicci is going to be in such distress and, if we are seen, my presence may help reduce any scandal.’
‘It makes sense, Marcus,’ Jackson murmured, swinging out of his seat to sit on the Tiger’s perch behind.
‘You’re right.’ Marcus stretched down a hand and almost pulled Marissa up beside him. ‘Hold on,’ he warned, laying the whip across the bays with a snap.
If Sir Frederick Collier was surprised to be interrupted as he sat reading in his study, he was too well mannered to show it. He urged Marissa and Marcus into the room and listened gravely to their frank explanation of why they were there. With a nod he crossed to his desk and wrote an address on a slip of paper. ‘Here, this is Colonel Seymour’s direction. You may rely on my total discretion. Now, hurry.’
The Colonel, fetched from a game of cards by his batman, was less phlegmatic. His florid complexion darkened dangerously, but he was clearly controlling his language in deference to Marissa. None the less Marcus had the distinct impression that the Colonel would be exacting his own price for the Captain’s behaviour. If there’s anything left of him by the time I’ve finished.
‘I will come with you, my lord. Ma’am, perhaps you would be more comfortable here. I will ask my wife to come down to wait with you.’
‘Thank you, no. The fewer people involved the better, I feel, and Lady Longminster may be able to lend some countenance to my sister if she is seen leaving this man’s rooms.’
The Captain’s lodgings, ten minutes away on the edge of town, were in darkness save for lights on the first floor. Marcus, thankful that the house seemed a respectable one, tugged at the bell-pull impatiently and when a manservant answered shouldered past him. Jackson followed, his hand on Marissa’s elbow.
‘Stand aside, my man, and do not raise a noise if you know what's good for you,’ Jackson snapped at the servant. ‘Better wait down here, my lady,’ he added, as the sound of Marcus hammering at an upstairs door echoed through the house.
‘No, I am going up. Who is to say what will happen if we are not there? Go on, Jackson.’ She hurried in his wake up the stairs, her heart in her mouth. From the moment the note had been found her thoughts had all been for Nicci and how she would ruin her life for this single moment of childish defiance. She doubted that Nicci understood the enormity of what she was doing, or the danger she had placed herself in.
But when Marcus had returned her joy and relief at seeing him had turned to cold fear that either he would kill the Captain, and have to flee the country, or that he himself would be injured in the duel that he would surely force.
The scene that confronted them as they entered the room close on Marcus’s heels would have been comic if it had not been so serious. Nicci, whose riding habit at least explained how she had arrived there, sat by the fire, her face a picture of indignation. The gallant Captain, who seemed determined to put as much distance between them as he could, was backed into a corner, a hunted look on his face.
‘Thank God you have come, my lord.’
The heartfelt greeting must have taken Marcus by surprise. He stopped, his eyes narrowed as he looked from the Captain to his sister.
‘I did not ask her to come here, believe me, my lord,’ the Captain said with feeling. ‘I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life as I am to see you.’
‘Andrew! How could you?’ Nicci cried. ‘After all the things you said to me.’
‘What things, C
aptain?’ Marcus enquired dangerously.
Marissa pushed past the men and gathered Nicci in her arms. ‘Oh, do be quiet, both of you! There, there, Nicci. We have come to take you home. You are quite safe now.’
‘She was quite safe before, let me assure you,’ the Captain interjected indignantly. ‘Kiss a girl at the races and the next thing you know she turns up on the doorstep without a handkerchief to her name. I never asked her to come here.’
Marissa thought she detected a slight softening, almost sympathy, in Marcus’s hard expression, but his voice betrayed no such thing.
‘Well, Captain Cross, this is a pretty pass. When are you intending to marry my sister? I am sure we can obtain a special licence. In fact I believe I saw the Bishop of Chichester at the races yesterday. He will doubtless be happy to expedite matters.’
‘Marry her?’ It was almost a squawk. Cross was appalled and it showed on his handsome face, sending Nicci into fresh sobs. ‘Damn it, my lord, I never intended to marry her. And I never intended her any harm, either, upon my word. I did not ask her to come here – I admit I was flirting, stole a kiss, but that is all, I swear it.’ He was now clearly becoming desperate, beads of sweat standing on his forehead.
Marissa had the distinct impression that Marcus was beginning to enjoy himself. She believed that Captain Cross was as innocent of any attempt at seduction as he claimed and that any blame could be laid firmly at the door of Nicci and she suspected that Marcus believed it too.
Even so, she watched with her heart in her mouth as Marcus strolled across the room to stand in front of the quaking Captain. ‘You have had a very narrow escape, my friend,’ he drawled, the Caribbean lilt suddenly strong in his voice.
‘You… you aren’t going to call me out?’
‘No, I’m not, although that was not what I meant. You have had a very narrow escape from finding yourself yoked to probably the silliest girl in England. She would have led you a merry dance, and you would have soon found that kisses come very expensive.’
Marissa, her arm around Nicci, let out her breath in a shuddering sigh of relief. Marcus was not going to challenge him, the man she loved was not going to hazard his life in a pointless duel.
