Duel of Hearts (15 page)

Sarah's mind was whirling in a desperate attempt to find a way to undo what had happened. She had only one hope (and a faint one at that) to convince Lord North that there was nothing between Edward and herself. She had no idea how she was to accomplish that goal, but the first step must be to tell Edward that they could no longer pursue the little charade they'd begun. She had to explain … without really explaining … that they could not be seen together again.

“But why?” Edward asked in adamant objection after she'd made a lame explanation. “Everything was going so well! You said so yourself.”

“Please don't ask … I can't explain,” she mumbled almost incoherently.

But Edward persisted. “What has North to do with this?” he asked flatly. “You can't deny that seeing him today on the bridle path has upset you. Are you
afraid
of him, Sarah?”

She was truly at a loss as to how to explain. “Well, yes, in a way,” she admitted slowly. “He tends to be … somewhat … possessive.”

Edward studied her closely. It seemed to her that his eyes clouded with disappointment in her. “I see,” he said in a voice tinged with disapproval. “You mean that there is some sort of … understanding between you.”

“Understanding?” She looked away from him in hopeless frustration. His reaction was just what she'd expected. How could she explain … how could
anyone
believe that North's abnormal possessiveness had come about without any encouragement from her? “No, there's no understanding at all,” she murmured, not really expecting him to believe her.

But he
wanted
to believe her. “Then what right has he to be possessive?” he asked reasonably.

Sarah shrugged helplessly. “No right at all. He's a very … strange man.”

“So it would seem. But Sarah, you can't allow your life to be run by his strange whims, can you?”

She turned away and walked to the window. She stood staring out into the street where the rain was now falling in a depressingly heavy downpour. “You don't understand, Edward,” she said dully. “North can be quite … dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” His voice sounded angrily impatient. “To whom? To
you
?” He came up behind her and turned her to face him. “Has he made some sort of
threat
to you?” he asked incredulously.

“No, not to me. To …
you
!”

“To
me
?” Edward gaped at her for a moment and then, surprisingly, burst out into a laugh. A
laugh
! He patted her gently on the cheek, smiled reassuringly at her and said carelessly, “You must let
me
worry about that, my dear.” Dismissing the entire subject, he walked to the door. “Don't tease yourself any more about this, Sarah. I can quite easily take care of myself. I've been doing it for years.” And with that he was gone.

Sarah didn't move for several minutes. Her throat was choked with unshed tears. She'd always dreamed of finding a man who would stand up to North—a man with the blunt honesty and courage to be himself … to follow his own path no matter what threatening obstacles blocked his way. And she'd found him at last. That careless laugh had made her almost tremble with delight … for a moment at least. Until she remembered two things—one, that he
wasn't
hers. And two, that he didn't understand the real menace of the threat that faced him.

She shivered. She must pull herself together, she told herself firmly, get out of her damp riding clothes and figure out a way out of this nightmare. She went slowly up to her bedroom, stripped off her clothing and pulled on a warm, woolen robe. She poked up the banked fire in her hearth and sat down on the rug before it. Hugging her knees to her chest, she stared into the flames abstractedly. Edward's face, with its transforming smile, seemed to be hovering between her and the amber glow of the fire. He was a rare man, indeed, and too fine and good for Corianne Lindsay. If
she
were younger, she would try to win him from that spoiled little chit.

But she was forgetting North. Even if she
could
win him (and she knew that Edward's devotion to Corianne was too deeply ingrained in him to make it possible, even if she were still in her salad days), North would stand in the way. If ever she'd seen murder in a man's eyes, she'd seen it today. She shut her eyes in terror, trying to drive out the memory of Lord North's look. How could she make Edward understand? North had never been bested in a duel. Edward's courage was not enough to stop North's bullet from reaching its mark.

She had to find a way to keep North from challenging Edward. And she could think of only one way: North must be convinced that Edward was nothing to her. But how? Would it suffice to return to her seclusion? Even if she never again appeared in public in Edward's company, would North forget the incident in the park?

Perhaps he would, but Sarah doubted it. Besides, Edward had declared his intention of continuing to call on her. She could scarcely prevent his coming to call, especially while Corianne remained under this roof. North would be bound to learn that Edward was a frequent visitor at Stanborough House. No, nothing would be gained by seclusion.

Could she go to North and tell him in so many words that Edward was nothing to her? Would he believe her, especially when she, in her heart, knew the words to be a lie?

However, she
could
explain that Edward was in love with Corianne—
that
might make a difference. But would North believe that? Anyone observing Corianne's indifference would be sceptical…

But if she could
prove
it … if everyone knew that Corianne and Edward were
betrothed
…! That was
it
! Sarah jumped to her feet and began to pace about the room in nervous excitement. If only she could arrange for Corianne and Edward to become betrothed! Lord North would have no reason for putting Edward out of the way if he were safely betrothed to another. All Sarah had to do was to convince Corianne of Edward's desirability. And she had to do it
soon
.

She sat down on her bed thoughtfully.
Could
she do it? Remembering Corianne's obvious jealousy this morning, she felt a wave of hope. She'd already made an enormous stride in the right direction. The scheme had worked perfectly, so far. Sarah had no doubt that Corianne would come to accept Edward someday, if she and Edward could follow her plan. But it would take time, and there
was
no time. Sarah very much feared that North would act soon.

Somehow, Corianne would have to be pushed
headlong
into a quick change of heart. Sarah would have to concoct a scheme so dramatic, so shattering to Corianne's complacent acceptance of Edward's constant devotion, that the girl would fall into his arms. But how on earth was this to be contrived?

Sarah's breath caught in her throat. There
was
a way … a way so shocking that she blushed to her ears just
thinking
about it. It was daring … and completely shameless … but it
might
work.

Yes, it might work, but how could she propose such a brazen scheme to Edward? Every instinct rebelled against it. no, she just wouldn't tell him. She'd simply thrust it upon him at the proper time.

There remained but one decision to make; she had to decide just
when
that proper time would come. It had to be soon, for even now Lord North might be making plans of his own. If she tried, she might be able to arrange matters for tomorrow evening. But no … by tomorrow, Corianne might well have recovered from the attack of humiliation and jealous rage which had overcome her this morning. Sarah could not afford to permit Corianne's tumultuous feelings to ebb. If the desperate game of hearts was to succeed,
tonight
would be the time for Sarah to play her trump card.

John Philip North, the Marquis of Revesne, had not appeared in public all day. He'd missed an appointment at the boxing club, had failed to make his usual afternoon stop at White's, and had not shown his face at the coffee house where he'd agreed to meet Tony Ingalls. Ingalls was much put out by North's failure to keep the appointment—he'd counted on some much-needed assistance from his lordship. In pique, Ingalls took himself round to Revesne House in Cavendish Square and demanded of the butler to see Lord North immediately. When the butler objected, saying that Lord North was not receiving, Ingalls brushed by him unceremoniously and made his way to the library. There he found North seated at a long table, carefully cleaning one of a pair of ivory-handled duelling pistols.

Ingalls stopped in the doorway in surprised alarm. “Good Lord, Jack,” he gasped, “what are you doing
that
for?”

The butler came chugging up behind him. “Shall I remove the gentleman, your lordship?” he asked, his chagrin showing behind the butlerish imperturbability.

North made a dismissing motion of his hand to the butler. “Never mind, Neames. You may go.” He flicked his eyes over Ingalls briefly and continued to attend to the pistol. Sighting down the barrel, which he pointed at Ingalls, he asked coldly, “Didn't Neames make it clear that I was not receiving?”

“Will you point that thing in another direction?” Ingalls muttered peevishly, entering the room with a show of bravado. “I should think you'd greet me with a little less antagonism, old man. After all, you
did
fail me, you know. Kept me waiting at the Smyrna for almost an hour.”

“There were more important matters on my mind,” Lord North replied indifferently.

“You're not planning another duel, are you?” Ingalls licked his lips worriedly. He had performed as second for his lordship on two occasions, both of which had caused him extreme discomfort because of the necessity of dispatching the wounded opponents and dealing with the magistrates.

“I'll inform you of the matter when I'm quite ready. In the meantime, be a good fellow and take yourself off,” North urged in a voice from which all emotion had been expunged.

Ingalls was not easily put off. “But I've a serious matter to discuss with you,” he insisted. “I must have some advice.”

North was unmoved. “Another time, Tony. Another time.”

“I can't wait for another time. I shall be seeing her
tonight
.”

North put down the pistol and gave his friend a look of annoyance. “Is this to be another outpouring of despair concerning your lady-love? Can there be
anything
pertaining to that subject which I haven't already heard a dozen times?”

Ingalls dropped into a chair. “But the situation grows crucial! My creditors are beginning to hound me, my tailor refuses to extend any more credit, my family threatens to force me into a lengthy ruralization, and—”

North held up a restraining hand. “Spare me, my boy. I will agree that your troubles are mounting.”

“But they can all be avoided … if only I could announce my betrothal to the rich and beautiful Miss Lindsay.”

North shrugged. “Then announce it.”

“How can I announce it, if the girl hasn't
agreed
to it?”

“Well, Tony, be reasonable. If the chit won't have you, it's no good whining over it.”

“I don't know if she'll have me or not. I never get the chance to
ask
her. She's almost never left alone with me these days. And if I
do
manage to a minute with her, she plays this little game…”

North laughed unkindly. “Yes … they can avoid a confrontation while flirting quite outrageously, can't they?”

Ingalls nodded bitterly. “She's marvelous at skirting the subject. Don't know
how
she became so skilled. After all, she's only a country coquette.”

Lord North resumed his work on the pistol. “I sympathize with your problem, Tony, but I don't see what
I
can do about it.”

“There are two things you can do,” the younger man said promptly. “One is that you can come to the Maitlands' ball tonight and distract the aunt long enough for me to get the girl alone. And two, you can advise me on how to pin her down.”

North ceased his polishing and looked keenly at Ingalls. “Your little what's-her-name will attend the ball with
Lady Stanborough
? Not with her
guardian
?”

“You mean Middleton? I don't know. She'll be there with one or the other. They don't permit her to go out under
my
escort of late.”

Lord North's eyes glittered interestedly. “One or the other, eh? But you don't know which?”

Ingalls merely shrugged and slumped in his chair.

“But it
will
be one or the other? You're sure of that? Very well, Tony, I'll be there. I hope she comes under Middleton's escort. I've a
very
strong desire to see him again.”

The coldness of his tone was a warning signal to Ingalls. “You're not still smarting under that card-game defeat, are you?” he asked curiously.

North's lips tightened. “The card game has nothing to do with it.”

“Then, what—?”

“Don't trouble your mind about it now, Tony. Let it suffice if I say that I shall be glad to detain Mr. Middleton while you accost your little game-pullet.”

Ingalls didn't like the sound of this. “But what if it's the
aunt
who's to escort her?”

“I shall be disappointed,” Lord North muttered.

“But you'll still manage to detain her, won't you?” Ingalls pleaded, his suit to win the fair Corianne uppermost in his mind.

“I've already agreed to it, have I not?” was the icy response.

Tony smiled in gratitude. “Thank you, Jack! I
knew
you'd come through.
Now
if you can only advise me on how to make the most of my time alone with Corianne—”

“My advice,” North said, returning to his pistol-care, his interest in Tony's affairs fading quickly, “is simply to refrain from idle talk. In fact, I would refrain from conversation completely. Take her in your arms and overwhelm her. A frontal assault. She'll surrender in short order.”