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“Of all the preposterous notions—a music teacher refusing a duke. She’s addled in the head. She’s playing games with you.”
“I was the one playing games. But no more. I’m marrying Viola because I... because I love her.” In that moment he knew it to be true. “And I’m not worthy of her.”
“Pardon me? Not worthy of a music teacher?”
“Your Grace.” Sebastian entered the room. “An urgent note has been delivered for you from a Mr. Jacques Smith.” Sebastian handed him the letter on a silver tray.
West ripped it open. “They’ve found Laxton. Mr. Smith is keeping him occupied until I arrive. I have to go now.”
Great-Aunt Hermione sniffed. “Do be careful, my boy. While I don’t approve of any of these goings-on, I would hate to attend your funeral. And don’t think this conversation is over. I have much more to say on the subject.”
Chapter Thirty
West was sequestered with Laxton in a back room at The Devil’s Staircase. Jax stood guard outside the door, in case West needed him.
“Why haven’t you challenged me yet?” Laxton demanded. He puffed out his chest. “Are you a fainthearted coward?”
“You want me to challenge you to a duel.”
“If you’re a gentleman you would avenge your sister’s honor.”
“Nothing happened to her. She hit you over the head with her reticule and jumped from the carriage.”
“Says she.”
“And I believe her.”
“I should have finished the deed.”
West gripped the edge of the table. “Think carefully about the next words you say.”
“Very well. Maybe I’m glad she ran away. Maybe I let her go because she wasn’t worth the trouble. She lectured me about lace for most of the journey. Maybe I was relieved when she escaped.”
Ha. West could believe that. He leaned backward in his chair. What was Laxton’s angle? “It seems to me that you want me to challenge you toa duel with pistols because you know that you’re a better shot than I am.”
From the guilty look on Laxton’s face, he’d hit the mark.
“You may have bested me with your fists in a surprise and ungentlemanly attack, but I’m a champion marksman.”
“Did you abduct Belinda because you wanted revenge on me for the thrashing I gave you?”
“Among other things.”
“What have I ever done to you before that evening?”
“You really don’t remember, do you.” Laxton sneered. “That makes it all the worse.”
“Enlighten me.”
“The masquerade ball at Beecham’s house.”
“Not ringing any bells, I’m afraid. Wait... yes. I remember it, but only hazily. There were various intoxicating substances involved.”
“You stole my mistress, you drunken cur! Miss Lucinda Whiting. Stole her with a wink and a leer.”
“I’m sorry, still not ringing any bells.”
“You bloody well threw her over your shoulder and carried her away before I could even challenge you. After that night she broke things off with me. Said that I no longer gave her what she needed. I loved her, Westbury.”
