Scandal at Dawn (A Regency Rhapsody Novella) (7 page)

Crombie jumped at the words, but recovered quickly. He watched the dice turn up poorly and the stake removed from the table.

He laughed his loss off. “Ah, Lord Norbury. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You seem to have shifted to musicales and knitting circles.”

A number of men within earshot laughed at Crombie’s comment. Then Robert stepped behind Adrian, glaring at the circle in general, and the chuckles quickly died.

“The reason I’ve come, Crombie,” Adrian said in a quiet voice, “is because there’s something in this place I simply can’t find anywhere else.”

“Excitement? Money? A sense of humor?” Crombie snapped, his eyes nevertheless betraying his nervousness.

“A liar.” Adrian looked Crombie over deliberately.

“You are calling me a liar?”

“No. I’m calling you a petty, sniveling, cowardly liar who would spread false rumors about a blind woman simply because you couldn’t make a fool of her after you had bet money you could.” Adrian was guessing, but his instinct was good, and he knew Crombie’s mind.

“You are quite mad.”

“And you are a stupid coward.”

“That’s enough!” Crombie hissed. “I demand an apology!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then you’ll meet me at dawn!”

Adrian felt a burst of triumph. “Very well. I’ll be there. With a sword.”

“A sword?” Crombie echoed, suddenly realizing what he had committed himself to.

“Well, you insisted on the duel. I accepted, and it is my right to choose the weapon.”

“That is correct,” Robert noted in a detached tone. “I will serve as the Baron’s second. Who will be yours?”

Crombie glanced around, eyes wild. His former friends had made a wide circle around him. None looked at him. He cast about. “Eberling! You’ll do it!”

“I will?” a drunken man asked, looking rather chagrined.

“You’ll be my second,” Crombie insisted, looking as if he hoped the drunk would volunteer to fight first.

“Splendid,” Griffin said, grinning. “Hyde Park at dawn. The field by the elms, I trust you know it? We’ll even bring the surgeon. Good night, Crombie. I wish you pleasant dreams.”

Crombie caught Adrian’s feral smile, and feared he’d not sleep at all, possibly for the rest of his life.

Norbury and Griffin stepped out of the gaming hell, breathing in the night air.

“Lot of things to take care of by dawn,” Robert said. “Why don’t you go back to your house and relax for a few hours. I’ll find the surgeon and do what else needs to be done.”

“You’re a true friend, Griffin.” Adrian gripped him by the shoulder. “I’ve never…do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“You mean by ridding London of a snake like Crombie? By defending Miss Blake’s honor? By acting nobly, instead of scorning your birth and your class? Calwell, you’re
finally
doing the right thing.”

“I hope she thinks so. I don’t know how I’ll explain it to her.”

Robert merely smiled. “Get some rest. Leave everything to me. I’ll send a carriage round before dawn.”

* * * *

Emily was roused from her bed by the maid Alice, who was holding a candle.

“Miss, I’m so sorry. A boy just brought this letter round. He said it was a matter of life and death. He
insisted
I wake you. It’s not my fault!”

Emily blinked groggily. “A letter? Shouldn’t you have woken my father?”

“It’s addressed to
you
.” She handed Emily a folded note, sealed in red wax. Emily peered at it. She didn’t recognize the seal, or the handwriting.

“Shall I go, miss?”

“Wait for a moment. Let me see what it says.”

Emily opened the letter, intrigued by the unfamiliar, bold handwriting.

Dear Miss St George,

It may interest you and others close to you to know that Baron Norbury has been challenged to a duel by Jonathan Crombie, as the result of his discovering Crombie’s role in the spreading of certain rumors regarding a blind girl and a rake. They will fight this coming dawn at Hyde Park. I am confident of Norbury’s chances, but a prayer or two may not come amiss.

A Friend.

Emily laid the letter in her lap, trying to remain calm.
A prayer!
Emily was growing very sick of waiting patiently as things happened all around them.

“Alice,” she said firmly. “One half hour before sunrise, you will wake me and Olivia and help us dress. Tell Jack to find a cab to hire and have it waiting. Something tells me Papa wouldn’t approve the use of his own.”

She didn’t explain why she needed all this done, but there was only one type of event that tended to occur at dawn. Alice shivered. “Oh, you can’t possibly mean to…”

“With any luck, we’ll be back before Papa even wakes. No arguments.”

Emily sent a very unhappy maid back downstairs, and settled back in her bed. She knew her idea was madcap. But she also knew Olivia needed to be there, in order to truly understand what Norbury was doing for her.

* * * *

Hyde Park lay silent in the predawn hour, the tall trees and unkempt hedges blocking the view from the closest road. The loneliness of the spot made it ideal for settling arguments. The air was chilly, and mist still clung to the ground, making the deserted scene even more ghostly. Adrian barely noticed, but Robert carefully stepped on the slick grass, assessing it.

“Wet as if it rained all night,” he noted. “I hope you’ll keep that in mind.”

“Don’t fret about the dew, Griffin. I’ve fought dawn battles before.”

“This morning, though, is a bit different from those previous engagements, is it not?” Robert looked at him keenly.

“Why?”

“Because this isn’t some duel over an affair you conducted under the nose of a dotty noble. This time, you are the one fighting to preserve a lady’s honor. Am I right?”

“I fail to see how that will affect my swordsmanship.”

“Don’t play the fool. You love this girl. Don’t let your emotions control you now. Crombie can guess at the truth as well as I can. He’ll do what he can to make you lose your head.”

“Have I ever lost my head?” Adrian asked his friend.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Robert noted dryly.

The pair arrived at the avenue of stately elm trees where duels were customarily held just as another carriage pulled up. The man who got out bore a large leather case, marking him as the doctor. He paid the carriage driver, and then hurried toward Norbury and Griffin. “Gentlemen,” he said. “You appear to be friends, and I don’t see anyone else. Is it too much to hope your opponent has opted out?”

Griffin heard the clatter of yet another approaching vehicle at the end of the lane. “Sorry, sir. It appears the coward isn’t cowardly enough to not show up.”

“I’d hunt him down if he tried to run,” Adrian added grimly.

The surgeon looked at him more carefully. “I take it you initiated this. Do you intend to kill your opponent?”

“Fear not, doctor. I just want to satisfy the demands of honor. Crombie can live, as long as he loses.”

The surgeon’s lips twisted. “I see.” He plainly didn’t approve of the whole proceeding.

By that time, Crombie emerged from his carriage and advanced down the lane, dressed in the same clothes as last night. In fact, he didn’t look as if he’d slept a wink. The only thing to suggest he’d done any planning was that he had picked up a sword somewhere along the way.

His second, the man he’d called Eberling, walked beside him, now stone cold sober. “Griffin. Lord Norbury. I’m not sure we’ve ever actually been introduced,” he said. “I’m Derek, Lord Eberling. I don’t suppose there’s any way to stop this.”

Adrian nodded. “An abject public apology from Crombie, addressed to Miss Blake and her uncle, would be acceptable. He’d also have to give up membership in all his current clubs.”

“Go hang, Norbury,” Crombie growled as soon as he heard the demands. “I told some stories, that’s all. Whoever would have thought you would turn into a prude?”

“If the stories were only about me, we wouldn’t be here. Your mistake was dragging Miss Blake’s name into the mud.”

“Poor innocent Miss Blake! She can’t be that innocent, if she knows you. How’s the blind chit in bed, Norbury?”

“For the love of God, Crom!” said Eberling, disgusted by the insult.

Robert stopped Adrian from attacking Crombie only by throwing himself in between the two men. “You’ve already agreed to fight a civilized duel!” He then glared at Adrian. “Calm
down
,” he warned in a low voice.

“I guess we’re not going to walk away after that remark,” Eberling sighed. He looked around. “Let’s set the rules.”

Robert nodded. “One sword for each man. No other weapons allowed. The duel will continue until first blood is drawn. The man who draws first blood is the winner. The loser will immediately drop his sword, and the fight will end. Acceptable?”

Robert looked at the small circle of men, from the surgeon’s somber face, to Crombie and Adrian, both furious, and finally to Eberling, who nodded in assent. “No objections.”

“Very well,” Griffin said. “Let’s begin.”

Adrian and Crombie took their places opposite each other in the clearing. At a word from Robert, both men drew thin fencing swords. Crombie looked distinctly less adept with his, trying several grips before settling on one he could maintain. Adrian watched in amusement, refraining from making a rude innuendo about Crombie’s dubious skill at swordplay. He figured defeating the man in a fair fight would be more rewarding. At Eberling’s command, they dropped to the
en garde
position, and the duel began.

Adrian knew he had the advantage. He was the better swordsman, he had rest, and he was on the side of
right
, damn it.

Crombie, by his expression, knew it too. He hovered just out of range of Adrian’s sword, obviously hoping to tire his opponent and then trick him into making a mistake. Adrian had no intention of letting the fight go that long.

He darted forward suddenly, but encountered only air as Crombie lurched out the way.

“Not as impressive as I’d been told,” Crombie sneered. “But you’re a lover, not a fighter.”

“You’d best focus on my reputation as a fighter,” Adrian warned him angrily. He attacked again, but Crombie scurried back quickly, ending up several paces away.

The man in black smiled, showing shark teeth. “We’ll see. If you love like you fight, no wonder you need to resort to courting cripples.” He ducked another thrust of Adrian’s blade.

Adrian knew Crombie was goading him, but he couldn’t stop his rage from boiling up. He hated the idea of Crombie even thinking Olivia’s name.

He paused, catching his breath. The tip of his sword dipped momentarily, and Crombie saw it. He lunged to press his advantage but found himself fighting a wall of steel. Adrian grinned as he knocked Crombie’s sword aside and, with just a flick of his wrist, finished up with a quick lunge near his face. A lock of hair fell to the ground. Crombie stared at it in shock.

Adrian quickly recovered his own stance. “
En garde
, Crombie. I don’t see a drop of blood. Yet.”

Crombie snarled and straightened up. “The only blood you’ll see is yours, Norbury.”

“I doubt that,” Adrian countered. The exchange had restored his confidence. Crombie couldn’t beat him fairly, so he had only insults to attack him with. Adrian grew calmer. He had only to wait for the right moment, and then he’d skewer Crombie like a cut of mutton.

The two men continued to feint and parry. Crombie, spurred by indignation at losing a lock of hair, advanced several times, only to retreat as soon as Adrian countered his simple attacks. Adrian moved carefully now, conserving his energy and waiting for the best moment to strike his opponent. He no longer had a desire to harm Crombie, nor did he wish to give the man a scar to boast about.

Adrian was just deciding where to impale Crombie when all the men heard the crunch of gravel. Another carriage was driving through the slowly lifting mist.

“Griffin,” Adrian snapped. “Go tell them to duel somewhere else! This patch is taken.”

Robert and Eberling both started walking to intercept the newcomers. Adrian, who was facing away from the road, kept Crombie firmly in his sights, so he saw when Crombie’s eyes widened. He thought it was a trick, but then he heard a voice he’d know anywhere.

It was Olivia. She was arguing with Robert; or, more accurately, she was refusing to argue with him. “I am not leaving this field until I speak to Lord Norbury, sir,” she was saying.

“He’s just a bit busy at the moment, Miss,” Robert answered.

“I will wait. I have quite a few things to say to him.”

Adrian’s heart beat faster. Olivia should not be here, for so many reasons. Yet she was here. She cared enough to come.

He saw no point in wasting more time. He grinned once more at Crombie, and unleashed an aggressive series of thrusts and parries that the other man had no hope to defend against. Within seconds, Crombie was losing ground, gripping his blade with both hands and howling in fury. Adrian was just about to make a tidy slice in Crombie’s left arm with the tip of the small sword when the other man slipped on the dewy ground and lost his balance, stumbling forward to avoid falling.

Unfortunately, forward meant running into Adrian’s sword, which pierced Crombie’s side. Adrian pulled his blade back instantly, but saw that first blood had most definitely been drawn.

The surgeon swooped in just as Crombie slid to the ground, his eyes wide. He gripped his wound until the surgeon could swat his hands away to examine the injury.

Everyone watched, unspeaking, until the surgeon looked up. “A flesh wound. Ugly, but not mortal. With any luck at all, he’ll live.” He then turned back to his patient, intent on his mission.

With that assurance, the other men could focus on the novelty of female observers. Eberling, the only man with no connection to the women, was the first to recover enough to comment. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he asked, confused. “Ladies must never see this sort of thing!”

“There is absolutely no danger of that, sir,” Olivia replied evenly, facing him with her sightless eyes.

“She’s right,” Emily noted. “And as far as I can tell, there is no duel going on, just a man who had an unfortunate accident with something pointy. Marvelous luck there was a surgeon handy.”