Read Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) Online

Authors: Catherine Gayle

Tags: #historical, #historical romance, #regency, #regency romance, #regency series, #regency historical romance

Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) (38 page)


Remember what I told
you,” Leith muttered under his breath as they waited—loud enough
for only Noah to hear. “Keep your arm straight and your breathing
under control. Squeeze the trigger in a fluid motion. Don’t jerk
your finger on the trigger, or you’ll probably jerk your arm. And
we don’t want that to happen.”


Right. No jerking. Arm
straight.” It would be bad enough if he hit his intended target.
Noah definitely didn’t want to hit anyone else.


Pull straight back on it,
too,” Claremont added, “not to one side or the other. And don’t
wait too long once you’ve raised it. You’ll move around too much,
otherwise.”


Straight back. Shoot soon
after raising.” Every heartbeat sounded like a clap of thunder in
his head. He shouldn’t have done this. What was he thinking? Noah
hadn’t shot a pistol in his life. This had to be one of the
stupidest, the most idiotic, the most imbecilic thing he’d ever
done.

Raynesford clapped him on the
shoulder. “When it’s over, we’ll all be here.”


Good.” Breathing. Leith
had said something about breathing.


And don’t get yourself
killed,” Shelton said. “You’ve got a wedding to attend in just over
three hours.”

Noah nodded. That, at least, he
couldn’t forget if he tried. The rest, however...

As Oglethorpe and Eggerley finally
made their way across the expanse of meadow, Newcastle eyed him
from the end of the line. “Any last-second questions?”

Licking his lips, which were suddenly
dry, Noah said, “Just one. How do I load the thing?”

All of his companions burst out into
laughter. How terribly polite of them.


You really
haven’t
ever shot a
pistol, then, have you?” Shelton barked. “Please tell me this duel
is just to first blood or something else of the sort.”


Sounds to me like he
hasn’t the first clue about dueling, in general,” Claremont said.
“Did you even designate how the outcome will be
determined?”

Was he supposed to have? By Jove, what
else didn’t he know?

Leith sobered sooner than the rest.
“As your second, I’ll load for you. All you have to do is cock the
hammer and fire.” The look on Noah’s face then must have been sheer
terror, because Leith rushed on with, “I’ll show you how to work
the hammer. It’ll be fine. I hope.”

Newcastle crossed his arms over his
chest and scowled. “It had better be fine. If I have to go home and
explain to my daughter that her fiancé is dead, I’ll kill you
myself.”

Why did the entire Shelton family find
such jokes amusing?

There was no more time to mull that
over, though. Oglethorpe and Eggerley had nearly reached the middle
of the clearing. Noah looked to Leith, who nodded. As one, they
made their way across to meet their adversaries in the
center.

In one hand, Eggerley carried a wooden
box decorated in ornate metalwork. When they were only a few steps
away from each other, Noah could finally get a good look at it. The
intricate, arabesque lines carried a French feel, like it had been
crafted at Versailles. Did the man participate in enough duels to
justify such an expense? Apparently so.


No chance you’re going to
back down, Devonport, is there?” Eggerley asked. “Showing up with
this sort of a throng assembled as witnesses ought to be enough to
appease your honor. We’re all here, and you can just call yourself
satisfied and be done with it.”

Noah shouldn’t go through with it.
He’d get himself killed. He’d hardly ever touched a dueling pistol
before, and he had never in his life fired one. For that matter, he
hadn’t held any sort of firearm at all since he was a lad on his
father’s farm, out hunting quail for supper.

But this wasn’t about Noah’s honor. It
was about Tabitha.


I’m not satisfied. Not
yet.”

Leith cleared his throat. “But if
Oglethorpe would admit his lie before the gentlemen present—if he
would retract his claim about Lady Tabitha and apologize to Lord
Devonport, Lord Newcastle, Lord Raynesford, and Mr. Shelton—then,
perhaps, Devonport might consider himself satisfied.”

Noah nodded. That would be enough. And
then he could walk away without a bleeding hole in his
person.


Not a chance,” Oglethorpe
sneered. “But Devonport, have no fear. Once I’ve put you six feet
under, I’ll make amends with
Lady
Tabitha and be sure her honor is restored. I’m
sure Newcastle will agree to anything at that point, in order to
marry her off.”

Red. Everywhere he looked,
Noah saw red, and his blood felt like it was boiling in his chest.
That couldn’t happen. No matter what happened to
him
, he couldn’t allow
anything bad to happen to Tabitha.

Leith acted as a calming influence by
his side. “Well, I suppose there is no option but to proceed, then.
Eggerley, present your barking irons.”

The craven, simpering man opened his
wooden case and revealed two matching pistols. Noah focused on the
design of them so as not to think about what he was about to do.
The rich walnut wood gleamed beneath more of the intricate
burnished silver patterns over the handles, in the same manner as
adorned the box itself. They lay upon a rich, red velvet
lining.

It was all so luxurious, so ornate, so
delicate almost. So wholly opposite of what they were designed to
do.

Reaching a hand inside, Leith
extracted one pistol and began to load it. Watching the process was
enough to convince Noah he never wanted to repeat it again. Flint
and powder, ball and patch, pressing it all into place with the
rod—if he ever had to do it himself, he’d forget half the steps, or
do them in the wrong order. But Leith’s hands flew through the
process with ease. He finished loading the barrel, poured an amount
of gun powder into the pan, and then waited for Eggerley to
complete the process with the other pistol.

Wordlessly, Leith and Eggerley
exchanged their pistols and examined them before trading them
back.


All set?” Oglethorpe
asked. He took his pistol from Eggerley’s hands without waiting for
a response. “Let’s get started then.”

Leith put the pistol into Noah’s hand,
positioning his fingers just so. “Aim and shoot. It’s all set for
you.” He walked out into the clearing, leading Noah to stand with
his back to Oglethorpe’s. Ever so quietly, so soft that Noah almost
couldn’t hear, he said, “Be sure you shoot first.”

Noah’s pulse roared through his ears.
He tried to catch a breath, but all the air kept escaping him, like
it was floating away above his head along with the mist and fog
that was rising from the ground.


Ten paces?” Oglethorpe
asked.

Would ten paces be enough to prevent
Oglethorpe from connecting with his shot? Noah had to hope so.
“Yes. Ten paces.”


On my count, then,” Leith
said. His voice sounded like it was far away, and maybe underwater.
Each second that ticked by felt bloated. Distended. Just as Noah’s
body might be in mere moments.


One.”

Noah took a step. His foot made
contact with the ground beneath him, slipping slightly on the dewy
grass. Somehow, he kept himself upright. The scene before him
blurred though, so he closed his eyes. Better to step blindly than
to get dizzy and fall.


Two.”

Another step. Was it too late to call
it off? No, he couldn’t do that. Shelton, Raynesford, and Newcastle
would fight over who got to kill him, then. Leith and Claremont
might even join in. Noah took a shaky breath. It would all be much
easier if his legs would stop shaking.


Three.”

Did he take a step? He wasn’t sure.
But at least he was still standing. The wind blew and rustled the
tail of his coat. That only served to make it shake like the rest
of him.


Four.”

This time, Noah knew he took a step.
He knew it because he nearly twisted his ankle in the little hole
his foot landed in. Biting back a curse, he straightened
himself.


Five.”

Was that a horse galloping? Couldn’t
be. Must be his pulse. Noah shook his head to clear it and took a
step. Imagining things would not help right now.


Six.”

Good God, it was getting louder and
louder by the moment. Probably because his death was growing closer
and closer by the moment. He took a step.


Seven.”

Forcing his foot to leave
the ground and move forward before rejoining the earth was becoming
ever more difficult. A horse nickered. That was
definitely
a horse, and not some
sign of terror coming from his own person. Noah whipped his eyes
open and turned in the direction the sound had come
from.

Definitely a horse.

Racing straight toward him, no less. A
white charger with a rider would overtake him in seconds, if he
didn’t move. Long brown hair whipped around the rider’s head, and
rich blue skirts did the same about the rider’s legs as they were
draped over the saddle, riding like a man. She rode neck-or-nothing
out of the rising dawn, streaks of pink and gold and orange
painting the sky around her so she looked like Athena, the
warrior-goddess, racing to his rescue. Noah could do nothing but
stand and stare, dumbfounded.


Tabitha! What in bloody
hell are you doing here?” Shelton’s words cut through the fog in
Noah’s head. “On a horse, no less. I thought she was afraid of
riding.”


She is,” Raynesford said.
Trust him to keep it short and to the point.

Oglethorpe threw up his arms. “What
the blazes is going on here? I thought we were having a
duel.”

Tabitha drew up on the reins and the
horse came to a stop just before they trampled Noah. “Help me off
this damned thing.”

With one arm around her waist and the
other holding the pistol like his life depended on it, Noah lifted
her down to stand by his side.


Is it loaded?” she asked.
He stood there mutely, still unable to speak. She was the most
beautiful thing he’d ever seen, with her silver eyes flashing in
the intensifying light of the morning.

He should order her to go home. He
should demand an explanation for her behavior, for why she was
there, for how she had learned where they would even be that
morning. He should find his sister and Miss Faulkner, and berate
them heartily for allowing Tabitha out of their sight.

All he wanted to do was kiss
her.

But before he could kiss her or
chastise her, or do anything else for that matter, she ripped the
pistol from his hand and turned it on him, turning one side of her
lips down into a frown. “I told you I wouldn’t stand for
it.”

 

~ * ~

 

Tabitha wasn’t sure how it had worked
out this way, but her arm was steady. Everything inside her was
quaking, though. Particularly her nerves. Damnation, now what was
she going to do? She ought to have thought this all through a bit
further than just getting to the location where the duel was to
take place.

Why had she yanked the pistol from his
hand? Even worse than that, why had she turned it on him? Ever so
slowly, Noah raised his hands out between the two of them. His eyes
were as wide as she’d ever seen them, and somehow they kept getting
wider. With a tiny motion, he shook his head.


What is that supposed to
mean? No what?” Tabitha brought the barrel of the pistol up to
Noah’s face, pointing straight between his eyes.


It’s loaded and ready to
fire,” Toby said from behind her. She whirled around and aimed it
at him. He, too, raised his hands as though to capitulate. “Don’t
do anything rash.”

Too blasted late for that, now, wasn’t
it? Her gaze swung over the gathering behind her father and
brothers, all the while taking great care to keep her arm steady.
Most of the gentlemen wore aghast expressions, but a few seemed
enthralled as they watched the proceedings in a hush.

Owen took two long, slow strides
toward her. “Hand it to me.” He stretched out his hand, as though
she would do as she said, like a good girl.

Tabitha was done being a good girl.
She was finished with being told what to do and when to do it, with
having her entire life dictated by the men in her family where she
had no voice, no part in making the decisions that would affect her
as much as anyone. “Stop where you are or I’ll use it on you.” For
the moment, she kept it trained on Toby. He deserved a ball to the
chest more than any of them. But if Owen didn’t stop advancing on
her soon, she’d change her mind. For a moment, she wished she could
shoot and reload. But none of them would be so stupid as to give
her another ball and more powder.

Lucky for him, he stopped, drawing up
into a position only a few feet away from her. Owen kept his hands
where she could see them. Another intelligent decision on his
part.


Are we having a duel here
or not?” Oglethorpe shouted from across the way. “I would prefer
not to spend all day on this.” When Tabitha looked in his
direction, he was coming closer to her, as well. He still carried
his pistol, but it was down at his side.

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