Chapter 33 #2
I knew all would be well… Hugo allowed himself to breathe, a sense of calm settling over him as he opened his pistol box, took one for himself, and offered the other to Miles. In such terrible weather, the pistols might not even fire, which soothed Hugo all the more.
“Let us finish this quickly,” Miles said, with a conspiratorial nod to Hugo. “Shall we say ten paces?”
“Ten paces,” Hugo agreed.
The Bartletts moved off to one side, Josiah’s eyes bright with vengeance, as Hugo and Miles met in the center of the natural oval. The two gentlemen nodded to one another before turning and beginning to mark their paces, striding away from each other.
Despite the agreement that had been made, a faint bristle of unease prickled over Hugo’s skin. He doubted there was any situation more vulnerable, aside from declaring love to a woman without knowing if she returned the feeling, than walking away from a man with a pistol, back turned.
After ten paces, Hugo turned around, barely able to see Miles through the rain that slanted down. The baron was a vague, shadowy shape, which did not exactly inspire confidence.
I hope he fires his dumb shot up in the air.
It would be far too great a risk to try and fire to the side of one’s opponent in these conditions.
“Challenger first!” Hugo called out.
“Very good, Your Grace!” Miles called back.
An unnerving moment later, there was a tiny flash of light and the cracking echo of a shot firing. Instinctively, Hugo braced for pain, just in case he had been tricked by the baron.
When the pain did not come and he realized he was unscathed, Hugo smiled and raised his own pistol in the air, firing the shot that would end this disagreement altogether.
“Are you satisfied?” Hugo shouted, lowering his pistol.
“I am,” Miles replied.
“Do you relinquish your claim to Lady Evelyn?” Hugo had to be certain.
“I do, Your Grace,” Miles answered. “She is yours. I give you my blessing.”
Hugo did not like to speak of her as if she were property, something owned, but none of that would matter once they all left Hyde Park. Evelyn would be free, and he would be free to marry her. If that meant using some language that he did not entirely agree with, then so be it.
“What?” Josiah roared. “No! No, I forbid it!”
Hugo grimaced in the gloom; he had suspected it might not be as easy as a gentlemen’s agreement.
“I will not be marrying her,” Miles insisted. “The engagement is broken, Lord Townshend.”
“No! You do not get to decide!” Josiah bellowed louder, a mess of shadows converging ahead of Hugo.
There seemed to be some manner of struggle, grunts and shouts drifting through the pattering of the rain. Hugo squinted and swept the water from his eyes to try and get a better view, but it was impossible to see what was happening.
Adjusting his grip on the pistol, he walked forward.
“I will have my satisfaction!” Josiah cried out. “If you will not defend my family’s honor, then I shall!”
Close enough now, a splinter of true fear ricocheted through Hugo’s body as he saw the shape of Josiah whirl around, a pistol in hand.
Not one of Hugo’s, for Miles still had that in his grip, but another.
Either Josiah had taken it from Miles’ pistol box, or he had come prepared to put an end to Hugo, one way or another.
“You cannot have her!” Josiah’s eyes were wild, his expression contorted into a monstrous mask of hatred.
There was nowhere Hugo could go. He was too close to avoid being shot if Josiah had the foolishness to fire.
Just then, a figure stepped between them, hands up, putting himself between the end of the pistol and Hugo. A figure that Hugo would not have expected to intervene at all.
“Enough, Father,” Luke snarled. “If you want to shoot the duke, you shall have to shoot me first.”
Josiah seemed to falter. “Stand aside, Luke!”
“I will not. As I said, if you want to kill him, you will have to kill your heir first,” Luke insisted, his tone hard.
“But… but he has insulted us!” Josiah’s voice weakened and, over Luke’s shoulder, Hugo could see the pistol wavering in the old man’s hand.
“He has not insulted us, Father,” Luke shot back.
“He has honored us, if anything, by falling in love with Evelyn. She will be a duchess, for goodness’ sake.
If nothing else, you should be glad of that, though I am more heartened by the fact that he loves her!
He loves her, Father. He came here this morning, ready to risk his life for her.
What more could a father ask for, for his daughter? ”
“The baron came too!” Josiah protested.
Miles cleared his throat. “I came so that I would not be declared a coward. I did not come here for Lady Evelyn.”
“What are you doing?” Matthew took a step forward, wearing the same fury as his father. “Get out of our father’s way.”
“I will not repeat myself,” Luke replied.
“Evelyn has been a stranger in our household for nineteen years, since the night Mother died. She has been alone, she has been ignored, she has been unloved and uncherished, despite her attempts to get us to just be kind to her. We have been… awful to her, and I have only recently realized it. This is her chance at happiness, and I shall keep standing here until our father relents and finally, finally, allows her to have something good, to marry His Grace, where she shall never be alone or unloved or ignored again.”
Josiah’s eyes narrowed, though he lowered his pistol some more. “I have not ignored my daughter. How dare you suggest that I have been unkind, or that I have… neglected her.”
“What is her favorite book?” Luke asked sharply. “What is her favorite song to play on the pianoforte, that you have always griped about her playing? Goodness, what color dress was she wearing at her engagement dinner?”
Josiah froze as if he had been struck, his mouth opening and closing though no words came out. Hugo could almost hear the man’s brain struggling to come up with an answer to any of the questions.
“What color are her eyes?” Luke said, some sadness in his voice.
“They are…” Josiah blinked. “They are… Well, they are… the same color as yours and Matthew’s. They are… a sort of greenish blue.”
Luke shook his head. “They are the color of Mother’s eyes. Dark blue.”
“They are still blue,” Josiah retorted. “And how should I know what color dress she wore to the dinner last night? I do not pay attention to such trivial things.”
Luke barked a cold laugh. “It was your only daughter’s engagement dinner. You should know. It was not a triviality. You did not notice because you do not notice her.” He sighed. “Just let her go, Father. Everyone will be happier for it.”
“Please, Father,” a quiet voice said, as all eyes turned toward the narrow entrance between the bushes that surrounded the dueling spot.
There, drenched to the skin, shivering in the cold, her face pale and her hair plastered to her skin, was Evelyn.