“Are you even listening to me?” Ryan was asking with a somewhat exasperated look upon his face.
“Yes, of course,” she lied, noting that Michael’s jaw seemed to clench with marked annoyance.
“You wish to act like a man, dress like a man, and fight like a man.” Ryan said, forcing her attention back to him. “Indeed, you desire all the privileges that men enjoy and yet, you do not wish to face the consequences. From what I’ve been able to piece together, you were even the instigator in what transpired this evening.
“So you see, Alex, you are the one who has compromised his reputation and on top of that, in spite of the fact that he is willing to do the right thing, you’ve gone and tossed his honor right back in his face! And that, in spite of the fact that you’ve always seemed so honorable yourself . . . I just don’t understand it.”
Ryan’s voice trailed off, the amusement gone, which made Alexandra feel even more chastised than before. The fact that he put her sense of honor into question, the shake of his head when he’d said he didn’t understand it . . . it all made her feel so undeniably small.
“If you had any sense of honor, you would be racing to the altar right this minute with his lordship in tow,” he went on. “However, since it appears that you have no intention of doing so, you will face him at dawn tomorrow instead and, God willing, come to your senses.” And with that, Ryan strode from the room, no doubt in search of the claret Michael had mentioned earlier.
Alexandra stood as if glued to the floor.
How has everything managed to go so horribly wrong?
In a matter of mere seconds it seemed she’d managed to lose all the respect that Ryan had ever had for her. He’d called her a . . . well, he hadn’t said the word, but she’d known what he’d meant, and that was enough. A tight lump filled her throat at the thought. She felt as if her heart had just been torn from her chest and smashed to pieces. The most disturbing thing was that she had been the one doing the smashing.
How could she possibly be so stupid? She was refusing the one person who might just make the perfect husband for her if she’d only give him half a chance. She shook her head. It was out of the question and now she was faced with having to hurt him as well. Ryan had given her that little speech about honor. Really! What on earth was so honorable about getting up at the crack of dawn to spar with somebody in a deserted field? It hardly seemed like the most intelligent way in which to settle a dispute. Then again, it might be quicker than a well thought out debate. For the first time since Ryan had walked in on her and Michael, Alexandra grinned.
Would it not be fun to do both?
“There’s still the matter of choosing your weapon,” a dry voice told her.
Looking up, she spotted Michael. He was watching her with a steady gaze as if trying to discern what she was thinking. There was no warmth in his eyes however. Not anymore. A heavy silence hung between them while he waited for her reply. “Swords,” she finally told him. “I shall have to ask William to be my second.”
Michael nodded. “We will head to the Bois du Bologne together. I trust William can meet us there?”
“I’d better send him a note.” He turned toward the door, but Alexandra stopped him with a question. “Will it be to the death?”
“What?” he asked as he turned back to look at her.
“The duel. Will it be to the death?”
Michael stared at her in complete and utter disbelief. Not only was she perfectly stunning as she stood there now, her dress still dangling awkwardly on her slim figure, but heaven help him if she hadn’t just said the stupidest of all things. “I have no desire to kill you, my lady.” He paused as he waited for her to comment, but when she merely stared back at him saying nothing he added, “Whoever draws first blood wins.”
He wasn’t quite sure, but it did seem as if she breathed a huge sigh of what could only be relief. Was she possibly worried about the outcome? And if so, why? He knew her well enough by now to know that she would be confident about winning, which meant that if she was alarmed, it was only because she knew she’d cause him bodily harm. Michael allowed himself to wonder what that might mean and arrived at only one conclusion—Alexandra Summersby actually liked him—quite possibly more than she was ready to admit, even to herself. A velvety warm feeling settled in his belly at the thought of it. There was still hope for everything to turn out the way he wanted them to after all.
“Chin up,” he told her as he turned back toward the door. “Your freedom is within your grasp. All you have to do is win.” Hiding a lopsided grin, he then quickly exited his bedroom and went in search of Ryan before he managed to say or do something else that he might come to regret.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A misty drizzle filled the air in the early hours of the morning as the three riders set out toward the park. Alexandra kept a fair distance behind her brother and Michael, her mount hanging its head as if aware of what was about to take place. Alexandra had no desire for conversation at present, nor did she wish to share an uncomfortable silence. Instead, she looked straight ahead, watching Michael’s and Ryan’s backs while wondering what they might possibly be talking about at a time like this.
She was furious with both of them of course, though she wasn’t quite sure which of them had made her angrier—Michael for challenging her or Ryan for practically placing a sword in her hand and pushing her into combat.
When Michael had shared his intention to court her with Ryan, he’d caught her completely off guard. But as flattering as such a notion might be, it was equally horrifying when the thought of marriage or God forbid love, happened to go hand in hand with it. And if there was one thing that Alexandra absolutely did not want, it was to fall in love—she especially did not want to face each day with the same worry: How much longer do we have together?
Will it be decades? Years? Months, or mere days?
She simply would not be able to live with such a concern, particularly in light of the fact that he clearly enjoyed going on dangerous missions that would forever put him in peril. As it was she could barely stand it whenever William went away, not knowing if it would be the last time she saw him. Her brother always rolled his eyes each time she insisted that he write her daily letters to ensure her of his welfare, telling her he’d be fine and that she was overreacting. Well, it wasn’t his heart that had practically stopped when those letters had ceased two months earlier. And when she’d found him grinning at her upon her arrival at the Tuileries Palace, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, she’d very nearly throttled him. Living on constant edge like this, forever filled with panic that tragedy might strike at any moment, was no life at all.
She didn’t intend to live out the rest of her days as a virgin, however. Perhaps she was being wicked and immoral, but she really didn’t care. She’d always believed in getting what she wanted out of life, even if it did send gasps of horror through the higher ranks of society.
She wasn’t acquainted with very many men though, since she’d never had a London season, her father being too preoccupied with his sorrow to notice that she was turning into a woman. So instead of learning how to embroider, she’d climbed trees and balanced along the rooftop of Moorland Manor. Instead of continuing with the piano lessons her mother had been so adamant about, she’d spent hours with the horses, galloping across the fields. And instead of visiting the dressmakers and learning to carry herself with the grace of a lady, she’d practiced at firing pistols until she could kill a bird in flight without pause. The only reason she’d learned to dance was because her brothers needed someone to practice with. It had been fun in a way, and she’d certainly honed her skills, but it had also been incredibly lonely. She’d missed her mother desperately and had rarely seen her father. Even Ryan and William had been away much of the time, both attending Eton. So all things told, remaining chaste hadn’t seemed like much of a problem. She certainly wasn’t one to go for the stable boy.
But then she’d crossed paths with Michael. It would be the biggest lie of the century to deny that sparks went flying whenever he as much as glanced in her direction. He annoyed her to no end and was by far the most arrogant man she’d ever come across . . . but, somehow he’d managed to wiggle his way under her skin, to do the unthinkable. He’d actually made her fall for him in a ridiculously short amount of time and without any apparent effort on his part. “Damn!”
“Are you all right?” Ryan had turned in his saddle to look back at her.
“Fine,” she muttered. “I just remembered something.” She felt like hitting her head against a brick wall at that statement. Why would she say such a thing?
“What?” Michael asked, pulling his horse to a halt so he could wait for her.
“I said I just remembered something.” She tossed him a scowl.
“I know.” Michael smirked, clearly struggling to keep a straight face. She knew that he was still angry with her of course, though the intensity of it had apparently faded. “I was inquiring as to what it was you just remembered.”
“Oh.” She glared at him with what could only be unmistakable annoyance. “It’s not important.”
Thank heavens I shall not marry, she thought. The man was likely to drive her insane! All she’d wanted was to know what went on between a man and a woman, and he, England’s most talked about womanizer, rake, rogue . . . call him what you will, had gone and grown a conscience. She wanted to scream!
As if that wasn’t enough, he’d decided that she’d wounded his pride or his honor or whatever it was that had them leaving the comfort of their beds at this ungodly hour. And now, it had even begun to rain. Somebody must be looking down on them and having a merry time at their expense. And for nothing less than a duel.
A duel!
A duel between an English lord and an English lady on French soil! Surely she wasn’t the only one who thought the whole thing bordered on insanity.
“Oh, but it must be,” Michael told her seriously as her horse came up between his and Ryan’s. “Judging from your scowl, I dare say it must be very important indeed.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” she conceded. “Though I doubt you will ever know.”
Ryan let out a muffled laugh beside her while Michael merely muttered an oath that was more offensive in nature than most. Alexandra on the other hand remained quiet, satisfied in knowing that she’d managed to vex him yet again. Somehow, that little bit of knowledge made her feel a whole lot better.
Alexandra was the first to see William when they entered the park. He was wearing a heavy cloak with the hood drawn low over his head to protect him from the rain. The minute Alexandra spotted him, he nudged his mount toward them. The animal protested with a rough shake of its head, stepping in place with great agitation before bowing to William’s command. “What’s all this nonsense about?” he asked in a stiff voice while he drew up alongside Alexandra.