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Chapter 20
As the two men came upon the duelling grounds, which in this case happened to be a large field on Stephen’s property, Isaac realized that he did not have a second, which he needed in order to duel. Stephen’s valet, Damien, had stepped forward as his second, and a doctor had been fetched in great haste somehow. Isaac looked back to Louisa, who he had just finished reassuring, trying to figure out who he could ask to be his second, when he saw a very familiar figure coming across the field.
Gregory was given the space to approach his brother at once. “Afternoon, brother,” he said when he strode up to him. “Looks like you’ve got yourself into a duel here, is that right?”
Isaac nodded rather shamefully. “I challenged Strandmere, it is true, and while I would not ordinarily do that …”
Gregory let out a grunt of displeasure. “The man’s a cad; he needs to be taught a real lesson by someone who knows what he’s doing, and I see no better man than you. Shall we?” Gregory clapped Isaac on the back twice, which made Isaac cough, but then he nodded to his brother.
“Yes. But I must ask ... why are you here?” Isaac wondered aloud.
“Never mind that for the time being, old chap, let’s focus on your marksmanship,” Gregory responded dismissively, and then walked away from Isaac and went to discuss the challenge with Damien. Isaac watched the two men curiously, for he knew that Gregory was on his side and did not want to negotiate any sort of peace between the two men. However, it seemed that he was discussing the issues with Damien convincingly enough, and Isaac was impressed.
But then it hit him – how did Gregory know enough about what was going on between him and Stephen to be able to negotiate anything with Damien without having discussed things with Isaac first? Had he known about Stephen’s plot before Isaac became aware of it today? Might that be one of the reasons why he had come upon this party?
His questions disappeared, however, when Gregory and Damien parted ways, and Gregory returned to him. “You’re all set to face him, brother,” Gregory reported. “That valet he has as his second is nothing short of an imbecile, and I can only imagine that Stephen isn’t far behind him. Take aim, clear your mind, and just shoot; you have nothing to fear.”
“Thank you, Gregory,” Isaac said gratefully. “I shall see you when this is done.”
The brothers shook hands, and then Isaac took one last look at Louisa. She looked absolutely confident in him, but he could immediately tell that under the surface, her worries were beginning to break through the surface. He gave her one final encouraging smile, and then faced the man who tried to steal her from him.
Stephen snarled at Isaac and danced his fingers across his pistol. “Ready, Quince?” he asked impatiently. “Or have you become too frightened of me?”
Isaac said nothing but shook his head coolly. The two men came together and stood back to back, and Isaac’s hand began to shake in anticipation. His confidence was beginning to desert him. What if he had made the wrong decision, and Stephen was indeed a better marksman than he was? What if he was killed, and Louisa was left to marry that vile man? What if …
“Positions!” The man who was calling the duel shouted, and it jarred Isaac from his thoughts. He straightened up and placed his gun at his side. The man began counting down from ten, and as he got closer to one, Isaac focused on what his brother had said.Take aim, clear your mind, and shoot,he’d said.
As he took more steps away from Stephen, he closed his eyes momentarily, and the crowd of guests, Louisa’s worried look, and Gregory’s watchful eye all disappeared. He was suddenly transported to the woods where he had hunted with his father when he was thirteen years old. He could smell the rotting fall leaves beneath his feet, feel the cool breeze against his skin, and see the elated smile on his father’s face.
“Yes! That’s my boy!” his father had cried upon seeing Isaac’s first shot hit a waterfowl not far from them. “You followed my instructions perfectly – breathe, focus, and trust yourself – and look where it got you!”
His father had run over to collect the bird that Isaac had shot, and while he was not thrilled by the dead animal that now hung in his father’s hands, he was very excited to see his father this proud of him.
“Thank you, Papa,” he said, and the duke pulled him into an uncharacteristic embrace. It was the one and only time that his father hugged him, not because he did not show affection, but just because it was not in his nature to show affection in that manner. The late Duke of Grenfell had preferred to verbally praise his sons to show how deeply he cared for them. But when he felt his father’s arms around him, Isaac felt more encouraged and supported than he ever had before.
Isaac took that feeling with him as he took his final steps on the duelling ground. He opened his eyes and thought that perhaps Stephen had chosen the pistols because he thought Isaac would have had less experience with them. Stephen probably thought that any prowess Isaac had when it came to weaponry would have been something typical that wealthy boys were taught to do, like fencing. However, Isaac was quite comfortable with guns, and so he felt that he would match, if not outdo, Stephen when it came to marksmanship.
“Three ... two ...” Isaac heard the counter saying, and so he focused on the feeling of his father’s support and his brother’s encouragement. And then came, “One.”
Isaac whirled around to face Stephen, and two gunshots went off. Isaac was hit immediately and went down. He could hear Louisa screaming as he felt the searing pain rushing through his arm, but all he cared about was if Stephen had been hit too.
Thankfully, when he looked across the field, he saw he had indeed met his mark. Stephen may have had the upper hand on the speed of the draw, but it seemed Isaac had outdone him on aim: Isaac only suffered a flesh wound on his upper arm, whereas Stephen had been hit straight through the right shoulder. It was exactly the kind of hit he had wanted to give his enemy – he would surely survive, but it would be a long, painful recovery.
“Isaac!” Louisa was suddenly at his side, trying desperately to see where he had been wounded.
“I’m all right; I’m all right!” he reassured her, covering his wound with his hand so that she would not have to see the blood pouring out of it. “Just a flesh wound. Nothing more than a scratch.”
Isaac was so relieved that the duel was over that he simply could not control the big, goofy grin that had taken over his face. Louisa continued looking concerned until she looked at his face, at which point she slowly began smiling. “A scratch, is it?” she asked coyly. “Could it be made less painful with a kiss?”
Isaac barely had to nod, and Louisa pressed her lips firmly against him. After the shock that had come in the last three days, kissing her was like finding water amid a desert – the greatest relief. But then, Isaac remembered himself and gently pulled away from her. “There is one last thing I must tend to.”
Louisa nodded encouragingly and assisted Isaac in getting up. They walked together over to where Stephen lay, writhing in pain and screaming in agony while being tended to by the doctor. “I’VE BEEN HIT! I’VE BEEN HIT. IT BURNS. I SHALL SURELY PERISH IF I AM NOT SAVED AT ONCE!” he was crying, and Isaac had to stifle his laughter.
“Strandmere, do you yield?” Isaac asked him. Stephen stopped writhing instantly and stared up at his opponent.
“Yield?!” he cried. “I shall never yield to a man like you, not while there is breath in my …”
But the doctor had placed some liquid on Stephen’s wound to clean it, and his ‘heroic’ speech was interrupted by another scream of pain. His face was so contorted that Isaac did not even recognize him anymore. “FINE, FINE, I YIELD, I YIELD, JUST GET THIS MAN OFF OF ME!”
