Page 35 of Pride of Lyons

The moment the word was out, Thomas spun toward Danford. If the earl threw his shot away, Thomas would be honor-bound to follow suit. But if Thomas could get the first shot in, he was under no obligation as Danford’s shot had yet to go wide.

In a smooth movement borne of untold hours of practice, Thomas raised his pistol and fired before Danford’s weapon had scarcely moved.

A piercing scream rent the air, and Danford dropped to the ground where he lay writhing. Convulsively, he pulled the trigger, putting a ball into the ground some yards away from the field of honor. He continued to scream and clutch his left leg.

Brill and Sir William ran to their compatriot. Geoffrey hurried to Thomas, and Rochdale grabbed Mr. Pratt and dragged him over to the shrieking Danford. The surgeon stooped and opened his black bag, withdrew linen, and began to staunch the blood.

Thomas stalked over to the fallen man, blood gushing from the injured knee. “I gave mercy a chance today, Danford. I suggest you take it as God’s grace, for if you ever lay hands on my wife again, I will not hesitate to put a ball in your black heart without the benefit of a duel.”

Geoffrey grabbed his arm and hauled him away from the still moaning Danford. “This way, my friend.” He pulled the pistol from Thomas’s hand. “I am astonished you decided to spare him. Why did you do that?”

Thomas sighed. “Honoria wished it and, in the end, I desired to please her more than I wished to kill him.”

“You have changed, my friend.” Geoffrey tucked the pistol into the case. “I’ll clean this later. I’ve never known you to be swayed from your purpose, no matter how hard I tried. Yet your wife can bend you to her will with ease. She is truly a talented woman.”

Thomas chuckled “Let us say she wields a weapon against which I have no defense.”

“What on earth is that?”

“Herself.” Against either her will or her body he had no resistance. He would do whatever he had to do to please her and retain her favor, even if it meant giving up his wish to have Danford dispensed with permanently. Although, in a less aggressive way, he believed he’d put paid to Danford’s debauching days. A man with a lame leg could hardly give chase to anyone.

“Huh.” Shaking his head, Geoffrey laughed as they headed toward the carriage. “Had you told me this would have been the outcome of our sojourn to the Lyon’s Den, I’d have called you lunatic.” He peered at this friend. “Perhaps you are mad even now. To be held in thrall by a woman, Thomas. You’d never have dreamed of admitting to such a thing a month ago.”

Thomas slapped Geoffrey on the back. “A month ago, I had no idea Honoria Quinn existed. Had I known her then, I assure you, I’d have admitted to being under her spell, almost from the moment we met.”

“You amaze me, Thomas.” Geoffrey stared at his friend, a mixture of amusement and pity in his eyes. “I’d never have believed this of you. And I assure you, you will never hear such a confession from me.”

“Be careful what you boast, my friend.” Thomas threw him a knowing glance and climbed into the carriage. He couldn’t wait to tell Honoria about the duel, about Danford’s final day of reckoning. More importantly, he couldn’t wait to get his wife in his bed, as quickly as possible. “You may yet find yourself having to eat those words.”

Chapter Seventeen

London, late July

Myriad candles and flaming sconces lit the Longford’s ballroom as though it were full daylight. Geoffrey’s sister, Alyse, who was just out this year, flashed by in the midst of a Scottish reel, partnered by her new betrothed. Thomas and Honoria had wished them happy when they arrived at the betrothal ball.

Thomas continued gazing at the dancers. Rochdale had asked Honoria for this dance, and they were even now circling with the others before continuing the high-spirited kicking that the reel was famous for. Unfortunately, it was unfashionable for a man to dance with his wife in public. He’d never gotten the chance to do so with Honoria. Perhaps they would hold a private dance in their townhome and invite only married couples, who could then dance with their spouses with impunity. He smiled at the thought, then stopped when he remembered Geoffrey wasn’t married. Well, he’d invite him anyway. Always good to have a spare gentleman for dancing. Such a party might also persuade his friend to begin looking for a wife.

The reel ended, and Honoria and Rochdale appeared, his wife’s cheeks pleasantly pink.

“Thank you, Lord Rochdale. I enjoyed our dance so much.” Her eyes bright with excitement, Honoria looked longingly at Thomas, who chuckled.

“I thank you as well, Rochdale. As my wife loves to dance, and I cannot fill that office, I am much obliged that you have helped give her that pleasure which I cannot.” He grinned, a mischievous thought occurring. “Although I will be very happy to give you all the pleasure that I am allowed—”

Honoria gasped. “Thomas!”

“By bringing you some lemonade, my dear.” He finished smoothly, delighting in his wife’s face turning red to the tips of her ears.

Rochdale laughed and clamped his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Good show, Braeton.” He peered about the room. “Let’s find a footman. They seem never to be around when one wants a drink.”

Thomas in turn glanced about, looking for a footman when he spied a couple entering the ballroom and his breath froze in his chest.

Lord and Lady Danford.

Thomas hissed and turned at once to Honoria. “Rochdale, find Geoffrey and send him to me at once.”

His brother-in-law shot him a quizzical look.

Thomas nodded toward Danford, and Rochdale started, then nodded and left.