He didn't pay attention as the seconds did
their job of asking whether there was no other way to resolve their
dispute. John's second was an officer, a lieutenant, and Irish by
his accent. Hugh did not pay attention to his name.
The rapiers were now being shown inside their
long boxes, and offered. John motioned so that Hugh should take his
pick, which he did. Hugh moved the rapier in the air as if to test
it. John took his weapon and did nothing at all.
More things were being said by the seconds
about the rules, and how to proceed.
Finally, Lord Erskine said,
"En
garde!"
The two men assumed the fencing position
while the seconds left the field.
John didn't attack; he waited, and Hugh
was forced to thrust first. The thrust was easily parried, as if
Hugh were a child playing with sticks. After a couple more thrusts
Hugh's blood was up and he began attacking more efficiently. There
was a small smile in John's face, as if he had been waiting for
just that, but still he did not attack with any virulence.
They moved over the snow, back and forth, and
Hugh felt almost warm now. He became a little more confident and
after a good exchange he went forward with conviction. John
suddenly answered with such a swift attack that Hugh started to
walk backwards at high speed, parrying as he could, and feeling
that he could fall down at any moment.
John stopped, smiled again and turned his
back on Hugh, walking away. It was an insult that he should do
this, as if Hugh were so incompetent that John need not fear him,
even with a rapier in his hand.
I could run him through now
, Hugh
thought, except that, of course, he couldn't. There were witnesses,
and he wouldn't put it past John to be doing this on purpose, to be
capable of somehow stopping any attack even against his back.
Yet Hugh still used his supposed advantage
and went forward again. John turned in time to parry and again he
drove Hugh backward with speed and skill. This time, when John had
Hugh at a disadvantage, he delicately flicked the point of his
weapon over the Earl's cravat and cut it open. Hugh's neck was now
exposed, but there had been no blood.
At the end of the next exchange, a more
desperate one from Hugh, John again touched his clothing with the
point of his rapier, this time his sleeve, and slashed it without
drawing blood.
He did it again and again, with ease, until
Hugh was almost in tatters, exhausted and so unnerved by the
suspense of wondering when he would actually be hurt that he almost
wanted to fall on John's rapier to end the duel.
Just do it!
he wanted to cry,
but he didn't.
The bastard kept playing with him, and Hugh's
rapier never went near him.
Finally John said, not at all out of breath,
" I have heard that you said you would throw me out on my arse, if
I should go to your house?"
He didn't wait for an answer: he walked
behind Hugh, who was panting, to deliver a thumping whack to his
buttocks with the side of the rapier.
"Well?" John asked.
He walked away, again giving his back to
Hugh, and this time the Earl would have run him through, if he
weren't so tired that he was almost unable to move.
"I have heard," John continued, "that you
were going to call me a whoreson to my face?"
He turned and with the precision of a surgeon
he reached out and nicked the side of Hugh's face. Hugh hissed in
pain and his hand flew up to his cheek. His seconds took a step
forward. There was a lot of blood flowing, for such a small
cut.
"Well?" John asked again, standing before his
opponent, holding the rapier with both gloved hands horizontally
across his body, as if he knew that the duel was over.
The seconds walked towards them quickly.
"Blood has been drawn!" Sir Henry exclaimed. "Do you consider
yourself satisfied?"
John walked towards Hugh and snatched the
wig, which was now covered in blood, from his head. Hugh could not
help wincing as he did so.
"You are my father's son," John said. "That's
why I won't kill you."
There was shock on the other men's faces, but
not on the Irish lieutenant's. He seemed to be trying not to
smile.
"I am satisfied," John finally said, though
it was not true.
He turned once more and walked away, leaving
Hugh to the surgeon on attendance, who was motioned over by his
seconds. John shrugged into his jacket, patted his fellow officer
on the back in thanks and, reaching his horse, he mounted in an
easy motion and rode off, holding the bloody wig.
The morning's business was not yet done.
"Everything will be all right."
Cecily said this with her face against
Georgiana's neck as she sat next to her sister, her arm around her
waist. Dotty sat on the other side, her cheek against the Countess’
shoulder, and caressed the back of her hand. "Yes, Giana,
everything will be all right, you will see!"
Georgiana wondered again what she would do
without these two girls. She knew that Cecily was outgrowing her
childishness to become a soulful, romantic girl, and that she was
telling her that John would be all right, because she knew how much
Georgiana adored him, in spite of being married to Hugh.
Bess, however, who was standing by the window
on constant lookout, turned to look at them with hard red eyes, "If
that madman kills Hugh, it will be your fault!"
It was a source of deep hurt to Georgiana
that Bess never said a word to her that was not harsh. Georgiana
still loved Bess, deep down, and had thought that their sisterly
rivalry and irritation would end as they grew older, and that Bess
would stop envying her. However, everything had only become much
worse since her marriage. It was clear that Bess was truly in love
with Hugh, and had not only wanted his money when she had expected
him to switch his affections to her.
Georgiana had tired of fighting against her
malice a while ago, but when Bess added, "I hope Hugh kills him!"
she couldn't help a laugh.
Bess walked two paces towards her, "You
laugh? Your husband is in danger of death, and you laugh?"
"I laugh at your idiocy. How could Hugh ever
hurt him?"
"A madman always encounters his match one
day," Bess warned.
"Hugh is no match for John!"
"How can you be so brazen?" Bess motioned
outside angrily, "Your husband is out there, perhaps hurt, and you
sit rooting for your lover!"
Georgiana stood up, "He is not my lover!" she
cried, and managed not to add
, I wish with all my being that he
were!
She was cut short by the thundering of hooves
against the courtyard cobblestones. Bess was rushing to the window
again, but Georgiana didn't need to, she knew who it was, even by
the way his horse sounded.
"The murderer!" Bess shrieked at the
window.
Georgiana was already running, followed by
her sisters. They ran through the large marble hall and through the
front doors, which were quickly thrown open by the footmen.
John sat on his horse outside, and there was
blood on his shirt. Georgiana's hand flew to her mouth: could he be
hurt? Yet, it didn't seem like enough blood for a wound. Had he
killed Hugh?
But he was staring at her with the same cold
fury he had shown before, as his horse, sensing its master's
restlessness, paced to and fro and bit at the bridle.
"Your ladyship," John said. "I am sure you
want news of your husband?"
He turned the horse towards her, and it
climbed the steps. Bess had shrunk in the background, while Cecily
and Dotty kept their arms around Georgiana as if to protect her,
though their eyes were as huge as plates as they stared up at the
angry man on the horse.
"Here is a piece of him!" John cried,
throwing the bloodied wig at her.
The wig hit Georgiana on the chest and she
put her hand up to hold it. She looked at it, hardly understanding
what it was.
"The rest will follow!" John added.
He turned his horse round, urged it down the
steps and rode through the courtyard out of the gates.
"That man is the devil!" Bess was
shrieking.
"Don't stand here," Cecily whispered to
Georgiana. "Come inside!"
Georgiana realized she had been standing
frozen on the steps, holding the wig, and that Bess was still
screaming, "He's dead! That murderer killed him!"
The two younger girls managed to guide
Georgiana inside, and when Bess entered after them and attempted to
take the countess by the shoulder, Cecily suddenly pushed her away
with a violence so unusual in her that it stopped Bess in her
tracks.
Cecily and Dotty helped Georgiana back into
the drawing room, and gently took the wig from her hands.
"Has John killed him?" Georgiana asked
through lips that hardly moved.
"No, no," Cecily said. "Don't be afraid!"
Georgiana didn't know if she was afraid. She
felt as though some heat were burning her insides so that she no
longer felt the cold, though she had been feeling it all morning.
She realized that she was angry, very angry.
When they heard the carriage outside she was
slow to stand up and move toward the hall again, to see what had
happened to Hugh. Bess was at the door as if the husband were hers,
screaming, then exclaiming when she saw that Hugh had climbed out
of the carriage with only a bandage over his face, but able to
walk.
Georgiana watched the scene as if from very
far away, as if from the farthest balcony in the opera, and she
didn't move as Hugh walked into the house.
He saw the girls standing there and shouted
to no one in particular, "Leave me alone! I am fine!"
His eyes, however, went to his wife, and
there was an accusation in them. "Leave me alone!" he repeated,
though she had made no move towards him.
He went up the stairs, presumably to his
room, and Georgiana turned again towards the drawing room with her
sisters. She saw that Hester had been in the room across the hall
all the while, and had probably seen both John's arrival and
Hugh's. Their eyes locked from a moment and there was no expression
in Hester's, and there was none in Georgiana's either.
Bess didn't come back into the drawing room
with them. After a while Cecily asked, "Should you not go to him
now?"
Georgiana saw that Dotty was confused and
frightened, almost crying, and kissed her. "Don't worry, my love,"
she said. "No one has died."
"Why did John do that to you?"
The poor girl, only fourteen, knew John from
the years before India, when he had loved to play with her and
tease her. She had been a little in love with him, but not like
Bess, not wanting him for herself, only happy that he would be her
brother-in-law. Dotty could not understand this change in him.
Cecily could, and looked mournful.
The Countess stood up, smoothed her skirt and
went towards the hall once again. She ignored the servants, just as
they pretended to ignore her. None had had the time or courage to
stop John; they had stood scattered, in shock. She was sure they
would not have stopped him if they had not been taken by surprise,
any more than they had done two nights before.
She climbed the stairs slowly, something in
her waiting like a coiled cobra.
However she knew, even before she reached
Hugh's room, that she was going to see something that would finally
hurl her over the edge. When she pushed the door open, the door
which wasn't even closed or locked, she saw Bess kneeling by Hugh
and kissing his hands, then his face. It wasn't the act of a
sister-in-law. There was no possible confusion: they were
lovers.
Both looked at her, and neither had guilt on
their faces. Bess was defiant, and Hugh sneered. They seemed to be
asking, without saying anything,
What will you do about
it
?
She turned around and left without a word.
She went to her dressing room and took her horse whip, her hat and
her veil, then kept going down the stairs.
Georgiana started crossing the courtyard, and
heard her sisters behind her, asking where she was going, but she
did not reply. They stopped following her, though she knew they
would be anxious – but even that did not stop her.
In the stables, a groom had just finished
exercising a horse, and it was still saddled. It wasn't her horse,
but it didn't matter. She took the reins from the groom without a
word and climbed on a stool, mounting the horse, then she
rode it out of the stables, out the gates, and onto the
street.
She knew where John was, because she had
heard Hugh sending him his seconds. She had been dreaming of that
street and of that number since she had heard them, knowing she
would not go there. Yet she was going there now.
The people who were out so early in the
morning were mostly servants and workers. They turned to look at
the well dressed woman on a horse, her face covered by a veil. She
was riding impatiently, and unaccompanied.
Georgiana rode through the streets, the devil
in her riding along. The devil was freeing her, just as it always
freed John, telling her not to care about anything, because nothing
mattered. All the grief and loss she had endured, all the insults
and the pain were hardening into fury, so that when she arrived at
the house where John was staying, she leapt down from the saddle
and did not even bother to secure the horse.
She walked to the door and marched in, to the
surprise of a servant who stood wide-eyed and silent. She could see
that John was not in the small parlor, so she climbed the stairs
quickly. On the second floor she opened the only door that was
closed, and he was inside, naked from the waist up as he washed the
little of Hugh's blood that had been transferred to him when he had
taken the wig.