Danice Allen (44 page)

The two men locked gazes. Julian’s expression was grimly earnest; Rob’s was filled with terror. Julian meant every word he’d said, and Rob knew he meant it.

“Well, Rob?” Julian prompted. He tsk-tsked sarcastically. “What
will
you do?”

At twenty-five minutes past the hour of five in the morning, St. James’s Park was deserted. The sunrise was a diffused gleam of gold on an otherwise gray horizon, and fog swirled thickly through the trees that dotted the dew-drenched grass. The damp cold crept into Jack’s blood, mixing with his aversion to the task before him. To protect Amanda and Sam, he was going to have to kill Rob.

He sighed. He wasn’t killing Rob as punishment; judgment belonged to the courts and God, and Jack would never presume to sentence a man to death for his crimes. He was killing Rob as a precaution against injustices the bastard was planning against innocent people. Jack compared it in his mind to killing one’s enemies at war. On the battlefield you were protecting what was near and dear to you: your country. And—even ranking above sweet England—there was nothing more near and dear to Jack than Amanda.

Jack frowned. It was easy to rationalize. He was convinced he was doing the right thing. So, why did he feel so wretched? He kept remembering what Rob had said:
You owe me.
Yes, he owed Rob for saving his life, but he couldn’t let that fact stop him from doing what he had to do. He’d have years to feel guilty about it as penance. For now he must set aside those doubts and regrets and simply do what he considered his duty.

Jack felt Julian’s hand on his shoulder. “How are you, brother?”

Jack looked up into Julian’s sober countenance and forced a smile. “Ready and impatiently waiting.”

“How was Amanda when you left her last night?”

“Resigned, I think. Anxious, I know.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t insist on coming this morning. She’s a strong-willed baggage, eh?”

Jack smiled … this time genuinely. “That she is. I didn’t tell her where or when we were meeting. She was miffed, of course, but I didn’t want her watching when I …”

Jack’s words trailed off. Any vestige of a smile entirely disappeared. Julian squeezed Jack’s shoulder, then let go. He understood Jack’s dilemma and sympathized; it was unnecessary to put his feelings into words.

Presently a black gig pulled up several yards away under a canopy of trees. It was the doctor. As was frequently the custom, a medical man was present when a duel had potential for serious injuries.

“Did you send for the old sawbones?” Jack asked his brother.

“No,” Julian replied. “Must have been Mingay’s idea.”

“Well, that either means Rob intends to mortally wound
me,”
he observed dryly, “or they think I intend to mortally wound
Rob.”

Julian did not comment, and growing more restless by the moment, Jack plucked his watch from his greatcoat pocket and squinted in the inadequate light at the roman numerals on its face. “Where
is
the bastard, anyway? It’s five-thirty-two! However late he shows up for everything else, you’d think he’d be on time for a duel!”

Julian shrugged. “Maybe he’s changed his mind.”

“He has,” came a voice from behind them. They turned and observed Percy Mingay walking toward them through the fog. When he reached them, Jack could see the irritation and exasperation on Percy’s face. “I don’t even like the little sod, but I got up at four-thirty this morning so I could roust him out of bed and stand as second for him at this hellish hour, and he had the gall to cry craven and leave the country! Can you believe it?”

Jack was astounded. “No, I can’t believe it. What proof do you have?”

“When I got to his apartment this morning, he was gone. But he left a note behind saying—” Percy had been in the process of extracting an envelope from his coat pocket when he seemed to spy something over Jack’s shoulder. He froze and stared. “Unless, by God, that’s him coming now on horseback at full gallop. What’s he up to now?”

Jack turned and tensed. He could feel Julian’s tension, too. Just as Percy had indicated, there was a man on horseback approaching at a fast speed. He was small in stature like Rob and shrouded in a billowing great coat. In the dim light it was impossible to see whether or not the rider had a weapon … such as a gun aimed directly at Jack’s heart. Or even at Julian’s heart … God forbid.

It had to be Rob. Who else would be out at this hour? Who else knew of the duel except those directly involved? But why was Rob on horseback, and why was he charging toward them hell-bent for leather? Jack was afraid he knew.

“Hand me the pistol, Julian,” he said quietly, careful not to make a quick movement and alert the rider to his intentions too soon. Julian handed him the loaded gun, and Jack dropped it to his side, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. He wouldn’t shoot—he wouldn’t even prepare to aim—till he had proof there was sufficient reason, like the glint of steel from an upraised pistol or rifle.

“Don’t do this, Rob,” Jack pleaded under his breath. “Don’t let things end like this.”

As the rider got closer, Percy swore vehemently and darted behind a nearby tree, peeking out from behind the thick trunk like a frightened child. But, as Jack knew he would, Julian stood stalwartly beside him. Jack clenched his jaw and held his breath … then suddenly let it out in a hiss of profound surprise and relief.

“Amanda?”

The horse slowed to canter, then a walk. Amanda pulled on the reigns, and the sweating horse pranced to a stop. Julian took the tethers and grabbed the horse’s bit, while Jack set the pistol carefully down, caught Amanda by the waist, and helped her dismount.

“Jack! Jack!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank goodness you’re all right! Is it over?”

Jack let her cling for a minute, then pulled free, grasped her by the shoulders, and looked her over. She was dressed from head to toe like a man, with her long hair tucked inside an old hat Jack thought he recognized as one he’d seen Harley wearing on their trip to Thorney Island.

“What’s the meaning of this, Amanda?” Jack demanded to know. “Why are you dressed like this and why are you riding about London alone at this hour?” Relief and surprise had given way to anger. “Don’t you realize the danger involved in such foolishness?”

“Oh, Jack, don’t be angry!” she pleaded, tilting her beautiful face to look up at him beseechingly. “I was worried sick about you. I couldn’t just sit at home sniffing salts and dabbing away tears while I waited for word!”

Jack was already softening. Amanda was a winsome lass, hard to stay angry with for long. But he deliberately hardened his voice when he asked, “How did you know where to find us?”

Amanda bit her lip, the unconscious gesture making his heart romp and skitter like a frisky pup. “I didn’t know,” she admitted meekly. “I guessed you’d come here because this park is smaller and more remote than the others. And I was right! But I’m late because even this park is large enough to get lost in! I was so afraid I’d be
too
late!”

Jack shook his head with a beleaguered sigh and gave her a slight shake. “You goose! I asked you to trust me, and you said you did! What happened to all that trust, Amanda?”

“I do trust
you
, Jack. But I don’t trust Robert Hamilton. If he’d … he’d
hurt
you, I was going to kill the little sod!” She stepped back a pace, pulled a pistol out of her greatcoat pocket, and waved it in the air.

Jack was so shocked and surprised by her use of vulgar language and her brazen brandishing of a firearm, he laughed out loud. “Amanda! Do you even know what a ’sod’ is, sweetheart? But before you answer, give me that gun just in case it accidentally goes off.”

She shrugged and relinquished the pistol without argument. Jack laid it on the grass with the other weapon. “I don’t know exactly what sod means, Jack,” she admitted. “All I know is it’s something quite despicable. Robert
is
a sod, isn’t he, Jack?”

“And a coward into the bargain,” Percy Mingay said, stepping forward. “Is anyone interested in hearing what Rob wrote in the note?”

“What note?” exclaimed Amanda. “Didn’t he show up?”

“No, and I don’t expect any of us will ever see him again,” Percy remarked with unfeigned satisfaction. “The note reads, ‘Got an offer I couldn’t refuse. Crossing the channel at four-thirty. Won’t be back. Sorry for the inconvenience, Percy. Rob.’ ”

“An offer he couldn’t refuse?” Jack repeated, frowning and turning to face Julian. “That’s odd …. Do you think someone threatened him? The moneylenders from the gaming hells, perhaps?”

“Why would they try to force him out of the country, Jack, if he still owed them money?” Amanda wondered.

“You can’t get blood out of a turnip, Miss Darlington,” Julian observed coolly.

“Who knows what happened to him, and who cares?” said Percy, tossing the note over his shoulder. “He has more enemies than I do! He’s gone, that’s all. And good riddance, I say. Only wish he’d let me know his plans last night. I could have slept to my usual hour this morning instead of rising with the bloody chickens.”

“Watch your language around my fiancée, Percy,” Jack growled.

Percy raised his brows. “Sorry. Forgot she was female in those clothes and … er … with her colorful vocabulary and all. Apologize sincerely,” he added for good measure. He bowed low, then turned to go, apparently eager to flee before he found himself replacing Rob as Jack’s duelling opponent.

“Send the doctor away,” Julian called after Percy as he strode away through the diminishing fog, then muttered,
“Rattle.”

Jack turned back to Amanda and slipped his arms around her waist. “And a blind rattle at that. I don’t know how he could ever forget
you’re
female, Amanda,” Jack said, eying her slim thighs and deliciously rounded derriere encased in tight buckskin breeches. “Especially in those togs. Makes me want to—”

“Good
Gawd,”
Julian interrupted, managing to look bored and offended at the same time. “I have no desire to see the two of you coo and kiss. What you do in private is your concern, but please spare me from being privy to your ’sweet nothings.’ Take her home in the carriage, Jack. I’ll ride the horse. You don’t want anyone to see her dressed like that. If she’s to be your wife, you might want to maintain a
modicum
of respectability.”

Jack grinned. “You’re right brother, as you so frequently are. I envy you your wisdom and perspicacity … not to mention your splendid sense of style. In fact, I’d say you were the luckiest man alive if”—he stopped abruptly and turned back to Amanda, his grin softening to a tender smile—”if I didn’t already hold that distinction. Even with all my faults,
I’m
the luckiest man alive.”

Jack looked into Amanda’s beautiful blue eyes. They glowed with love. Long moments passed while they basked in the warmth of their hard-won happiness.

“Don’t you agree, Julian?” Jack asked at last, turning for his brother’s corroboration. But Julian had vanished.

“He moves like a cat,” Jack said with grudging respect. “And he has impeccable timing.”

Amanda smiled impishly and blushed. “Your timing’s not so bad, either.”

“You minx,” he murmured, growing painfully aroused. “Just wait till I get you alone.”

He bent to kiss her, but she pressed her fingertips against his lips and drew back. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Jack?”

He raised a brow. “My memory
has
had some recent lapses,” he admitted slyly. “What am I forgetting now, Amanda?”

She toyed with his neck cloth, stroking the smooth linen with absentminded sensuality. “I haven’t yet received a proper proposal of marriage from you, Lord Durham,” she told him coyly. “That being the case, all this cooing and kissing—as Lord Serling so aptly phrased it—is quite improper.”

Jack grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against him. Her playfulness and the look of her in breeches was making him as randy as a rooster. But he loved her … oh so much! And he’d give her exactly what she wanted … which was exactly what he wanted, too.

“Amanda, darling, will you marry me? Will you stay with me and love me even when I’m toothless and gray, when I repeat myself constantly and forget where I’ve put my slippers even when they’re on my feet?”

Amanda looped her arms around his neck and stared up into Jack’s mesmerizing amber-brown eyes. “Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said with quiet intensity and a dazzling smile. “And, yes, I’ll stay with you and love you even when you’re a decrepit old man. But promise me something, Jack—”

“Anything, Amanda.”

“Promise me that no matter what else you forget”—she paused, pouted, and poked him in the chest with her finger to underscore each word—“never”—poke—“forget”—poke—“you love me!” Poke, poke, poke.

He threw back his head and laughed; then he sobered fast and dipped his head till their lips were nearly touching. He looked into her eyes and said, “That’s an easy promise to make and keep, Amanda, darling, because you are my love”—he kissed her forehead—“my life”—he kissed the tip of her nose—“and you are quite simply …
unforgettable.”

His breath spilled warm against her lips, and Amanda’s eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. They kissed, forgetting everything and everyone but each other.

Riding past on Amanda’s horse, Julian saw the happy couple embracing. He smiled. He was glad for Jack, but he envied him, too. How would it be to find true love?

He leaned back in the saddle and considered pretty, auburn-haired Charlotte Batsford. So serene, so controlled, so well-educated. Was it possible to stir up that sweet girl’s passions like Jack had stirred up Amanda’s? Could he make himself fall in love with her … and she with him … or did true love just …
happen?

It was an interesting thought, deserving of much rumination. But in the meantime, Julian had a far more pressing challenge at hand. Sam, that hoydenish, kittenish, noisy, and charmingly mobcapped child must be made into a silk purse by spring. He’d turn her into a diamond of the first water if it killed him, then foist the little brat onto some unsuspecting man blinded by her glitter.