“It appears as though I have offended his lordship’s honor.” She paused for a moment as a smile crept over her lips. “He’s challenged me to a duel in the hope of defending it.”
William cast a glance over her shoulder at Michael. “It must have been quite an offense indeed if you felt compelled to challenge her.”
“I didn’t make the decision lightly,” Michael ground out. His eyes were unflinching as he stared back at William.
“You made it quickly enough,” Alexandra remarked.
“That is beside the point,” he shot back.
“I hardly . . .” she stopped herself with a sigh. An argument wasn’t going to solve anything right now. She looked at William. “Thank you for coming. I was not sure if you would be able to manage it.”
“I must admit I was quite taken aback by your hasty letter, but it goes without saying that I would do whatever it took to be here right now. After all, it’s not every day that my little sister asks for my assistance.” He smiled affectionately at her, but when his eyes shifted to Ryan, it dropped from his face. “What I would like to know is why the devil you are not her second.”
“Michael asked me first,” Ryan said simply and much too nonchalantly for Alexandra’s liking.
“He did not!” she exclaimed as she spun around, her eyes pinning him with an accusing stare.
He shrugged. “Well, then I suppose it’s because I thought it the right thing to do after you had just insulted him so distastefully.”
“Did you?” William asked her in a low tone that demanded an honest answer.
Alexandra’s eyes met Michael’s. They glistened with a mixture of anger, regret, and desire that tore at her heart with a vengeance. She nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid I did.”
“Well, then I suppose there’s nothing for it, although, as your second I must inform you that this entire business may be settled with an apology.” William frowned as he looked at his sister. “Do you wish to apologize to Lord Trenton so we might put this whole—”
She shook her head. “No,” she whispered.
Her eyes were cast down. She couldn’t look at any of them anymore. There was no one to blame for it but herself. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it.
“Very well then,” William sighed. “There’s no point in wasting time. Let us begin.”
Turning his horse around, he trotted along a footpath to a large lawn that was both flat and devoid of trees and bushes. It would serve nicely as a sparring ground.
Alexandra followed close behind him, dismounting and tying the reins of her horse to a nearby bench. She felt a heavy hand settle upon her shoulder and looked up to see William looking down at her, concern marking his eyes. “Will it be to the death?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “No, only until first blood.”
He let out a sigh. “I imagine that must come as quite a relief to you. As far as I know, you’ve never killed a man before. I should hate for your first time to be somebody you actually care about.”
“I don’t . . .” she gasped defensively.
William raised an eyebrow. “Do not lie to yourself, Alex. I do not know all the details about your relationship with Trenton, but I have seen enough to know that what is between you two, is very far from hate. If I were bold, I might venture to suggest that you have fallen in love with the man.” Alexandra’s jaw dropped at her brother’s forthright observation. How could he possibly think that when she hadn’t even allowed herself to consider such a prospect?
“Don’t say anything,” he continued in a low whisper. “I’m sure you have your reasons for doing what you’re about to do, yet I thought it necessary to tell you that I do believe you’re making a terrible mistake.”
Alexandra’s lips drew together in a tight line. This really wasn’t helping her at all. “You’re right, William. I do have my reasons, and I do have to do this.”
William handed her a saber. “Keep telling yourself that, and you just might believe it.” He paused before adding, “Go easy on him, Alex. First blood doesn’t necessarily mean a wide gash.”
Alexandra stared back at him for a moment, then gave a quick nod before turning about and heading out onto the grass. “Ready?” she called to Michael.
“I believe so,” he called back, picking up his own saber and heading toward her. He was a mere foot away from her before he stopped, his eyes latching onto hers as if pleading for something impossible. “Be reasonable, Alex,” he murmured. “I . . . you . . .” He paused as he ran a hand through his hair. Alexandra felt her stomach tighten before it suddenly flipped in a most uncomfortable fashion. Her skin prickled and the urge to rush into his arms, to feel the warmth of his body wrap itself around her, overwhelmed her with such a force that she could scarcely breathe.
“Why are you torturing me like this?” he finally managed. “Do you have any idea how I—”
“En garde!” Alexandra yelled, cutting him off. The last thing she wanted right now was for him to declare his feelings for her. She knew her resolve would waiver if he did so. In fact, if she waited a moment longer she’d find herself melting into a hopeless pool of lament before his very eyes. She couldn’t allow for that to happen. Her fear was too strong, too powerful, too relentless, and although she’d always feared the idea of love in general, she especially feared it now that she’d met Michael. He was not the sort of man who would say no to danger. On the contrary, he’d eagerly face it head on, pistols blazing while she would have to live in constant dread.
The clash of metal sharpened her senses in an instant. It felt good to wield a sword again, the weight of it in her hand an unexpected comfort. Her lungs filled with a rush of cool dawn air while she sidestepped Michael’s attack. She twisted smoothly out of the way, only just managing to turn about before he was upon her again, already pushing her to the limit.
Reality began to seep in. This was no ordinary adversary. Compared with Ryan and William . . . Well, they were good, very good in fact, but Michael, he was simply excellent. Concern poured through her. He had stamina and a marvelous technique that was proving more and more difficult to outmaneuver. She’d never seen him fight, and she’d assumed that she would easily best him. There was no doubt that she’d made a serious error in judgment.
She performed a quick inquartata in response to Michael’s lunge. Inertia kept him moving, allowing her a brief yet necessary moment’s reprieve. “You’re better than I’d expected,” she told him honestly. Her breath was already coming quickly.
“One should never underestimate one’s opponent, my lady,” he replied with a note of confidence that brought her immediately on edge. “I recently learned that lesson myself.”
She knew he was referring to her interpretation of what might constitute a courtship. “I’m sorry, Michael,” she muttered.
“What was that?” he asked, his eyes shone with amusement. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”
“You must have selective hearing then,” she quipped as flippantly as she could muster while he advanced on her again.
“Do you know, it almost sounded as if you just apologized. But knowing you, that cannot possibly be right. Can it?”
She favored him with her best scowl, pushing a sudden advantage she’d found in an opening. “Clearly you cannot fight and talk at the same time, my lord. You’ve just given me the advantage.”
“Hm . . . I see your point.”
“You do?”
“Certainly, though I thought that you might be smart enough to consider why I would choose to do such a thing.”
Blocking Alexandra’s sudden attack and forcing her blade sideways, he didn’t miss a beat. With a quick application of pressure, he pushed her off balance until she toppled backward. She landed with a loud thump on her bottom, her hands sliding out behind her in the wet grass.
Alexandra was not an idiot. She knew when she’d been beaten fair and square, but that didn’t make it any less infuriating, or humiliating for that matter. She muttered an oath just as she felt the prick of Michael’s saber against her shoulder, forcing her back upon her elbows. Tilting her head backward, she reluctantly looked up only to find him gazing down at her with a rather annoying look of satisfaction.
“You let your confidence get the better of you, my lady,” he said.
She moved to sit up, but he only applied more pressure to the sword point.
“Not so fast.” He smirked. “First blood, remember?”
Before Alexandra had a chance to consider the significance of what he’d just said, he pressed forward just enough to puncture her skin. A drop of scarlet blood sprang forth to redden the white linen of her shirt. “Ow!”
Tilting his head sideways, Michael stared down at her for a moment. “Just wanted to be clear about who won,” he told her.
“You had an advantage, you know,” she muttered as she glared up at him. “You saw me fight in Rouen. You knew what you were getting into, yet I had no idea about your level of skill.”
“I hope you’re not implying that it wasn’t a fair fight.”
“No, not at all, but I do feel as though I’ve just been had.”
“Not so pleasant, is it?” Extending his free hand, Michael reached down to help her up. She looked at it as if it might as well have been diseased. “Come on. The least I can do is offer my assistance.”
Looking none too pleased, Alexandra reluctantly took his hand, allowing him to haul her to her feet. She was in the middle of brushing dirt off herself when both William and Ryan strode up to where she and Michael were standing. “That was brilliantly done, Michael,” Ryan grinned. “You know, I was hoping you might win.”
Alexandra just glared at her brother. She wondered if having him drawn and quartered would satisfy her sudden need to hurt him. As if reading her mind, Ryan took a small step in William’s direction. “No offense, Alex, but it’s just so damn satisfying to watch somebody best you.”
“He’s right you know,” William chuckled. “I wouldn’t have thought it, but by all that’s holy, this really has been very rewarding.” Turning to Michael, William made an elaborate show of bowing before him. “It’s an honor to know you, Ashford.”
Michael suddenly laughed. He couldn’t help himself. By God they were an odd bunch, the Summersbys. He knew he ought to act with more reserve, especially since he was meant to be investigating the loyalty of the eldest sibling, but this was just too much of a farce to be taken seriously. He’d practically been caught molesting the men’s sister, but apparently all had been forgiven just because he happened to have beaten her in a duel.
A smug look crept over his face as he now recalled the reason behind the duel. He was the victor, which meant that . . . he turned to Alexandra. “I hope you realize this means marriage,” he told her.