The Last Suitor. A J McMahon
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and it is only to be expected that a second proposal will be proffered.’
‘Look at Lord and Lady Preece,’ Lady Easton said, backing up her husband. ‘She turned him down six times!’
‘I am glad to find I am not alone in this matter,’ Percival said with some relief, ‘for Isabel has suggested I am not a gentleman for continuing to press my suit.’
‘Isabel!’ Lady Easton gasped, shocked. ‘You said no such thing!’
‘I certainly said no such thing, Aunt Dacia,’ Isabel replied. ‘Lord Breckenridge misrepresents me. I said that if he continued to pester me with his unwelcome attentions I would be forced to conclude that he was not a gentleman.’
‘If you were to reach such a conclusion, Lady Grangeshield,’ Percival said icily, ‘I would be obliged to demand satisfaction. Would there be someone to act on your behalf if so?’
‘I am sure there is no need for such an action on your part, Percival,’ Lord Easton said hastily, trying to hose everything down before the fire spread.
‘There is most certainly not!’ Lady Breckenridge agreed forcefully, giving Isabel a less than friendly look.
‘In the event that you demand satisfaction, I would make enquiries as to who might act on my behalf,’ Isabel told him with equal iciness, knowing full well that half of New Landern would jump forward to defend her. ‘You will no doubt scorn to refer to First Combat but will refer to a higher grade.’
‘Percival will do no such thing!’ Lady Breckenridge shouted on the instant.
‘First Combat would be the appropriate form of satisfaction for such an offence as this, which in any case has not even been given yet, and will not be,’ Lord Easton said firmly, giving Isabel a hard look. He did not often put his foot down, but he was doing so now.
‘May I enquire of Lord Breckenridge,’ Isabel said coldly, looking directly at Lady Breckenridge as he said this, ‘why he cannot comprehend that I have refused his proposal today and I do not wish him to trouble me again with another? I do not want to marry Lord Breckenridge. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. How much more plainly do I need to speak?’
‘Let us agree that there is nothing more to be said about this matter today,’ Lord Easton said hastily while Lady Breckenridge was pondering her response.
‘It is very becoming of you to be so modest,’ Lady Easton said, muddying the waters at a time when Isabel was trying to make everything crystal clear. ‘You are fighting like a tigress to defend your modesty, and what could be more commendable?’
Lord Easton was infuriated by his wife’s blunder but even as he was opening his mouth to speak Percival made his own blunder.
‘Ah, I thought so,’ he said, nodding with an air of self-satisfaction, ‘your modesty is to be commended, Isabel, and I will return to propose again.’
‘You are not a gentleman, Lord Breckenridge,’ Isabel said very clearly and forcefully.
Silence gripped the group then. Lady Easton turned to look at her husband only to see him glaring at her with such cold fury she immediately turned away again, wondering why he was so angry with her. She hadn’t said anything.
Percival went pale and couldn’t speak. He looked at Isabel to see her glaring at him with a hard, fixed look on her face that was so rigid it made her face appear like a mask.
‘I must demand satisfaction, Lady Grangeshield,’ Percival said eventually. ‘Is there anyone who will act on your behalf?’
‘Name the time and place of the duel and your opponent will be there,’ Isabel told him, furious to the tips of her fingers. ‘What form of satisfaction do you require?’
‘First Combat,’ Percival said. ‘Tomorrow at six o’clock at Mildgyd.’
‘Very well,’ Isabel said. ‘I would like to take this opportunity to make something quite plain to you, Lord Breckenridge. If you ever propose to me again, I will tell you again quite plainly that you are not a gentleman and you will find yourself fighting another duel. That duel will not be First Combat, which you will already have referred to once. Is that clear? Now get out! You are not welcome here and you are never welcome to ever set foot here again!’ With that Isabel turned and stalked furiously away back to the house.
The Eastons tried to make their farewells as courteously as they could, but the Breckenridges were not to be mollified in any way, no matter how much soothing oil Lord Easton tried to pour on these troubled waters. William had a barely concealed and delighted grin; he had enjoyed the show and now he had a duel to look forward to the very next day. Life did not get any better than this, William thought.
Isabel stormed up to the Red Drawing Room and threw herself down in her favourite chair. What an impossible man! she thought furiously to himself; it seemed he was so conceited he could not believe she did not want him as her husband. Well, he would grasp that concept fully when he faced his opponent in the duel tomorrow.
She turned her mind then to selecting someone to act on her behalf. She was glad that in her temper she had not pushed the issue further to be a matter of second or final combat. First combat was one thing, second or final combat another. It would be much easier for her to find someone to act on her behalf in a lesser duel. As the Eastons entered the room, she held up her hand palm out to keep them at bay. They sat nearby with expressions of resignation on their faces.
Isabel made her choice, went to her study to write a letter to the lucky man and dispatched it immediately by private messenger. Lewis Hexton was so excited as to come around immediately, and his repeated expressions of delight at being her champion made it plain he was wondering whether to propose to her again. Isabel neither encouraged nor dispelled his illusions, deciding she would not tell him that she would not receive his suit a second time until after the duel was over.
6:00 PM, Tuesday 3 May 1544 A. F.
The duel of First Combat was fought as promised at Mildgyd, in front of a large audience. The duelists faced off against each other, each with four mobile karns floating around them and their fight began. To be brought down onto the ground was to lose the round and there were three rounds in First Combat. There was only one round in Second Combat because that required the breaking of at least one limb. There was also only one round in Final Combat because that required a magnetised disc being used to kill the opponent.
The two men circled each other, wands in hand, slashing ineffectually with various combinations, the one nearly toppling the other and then nearly being toppled in turn. At one point Lord Breckenridge was brought down by physical contact, which was a foul; three fouls would mean the loss of the round. After some twenty minutes or so Lord Breckenridge managed to bring down his opponent with a stray mobile karn that grabbed an ankle and tugged him off-balance so that he fell down. His supporters cheered and Lord Breckenridge, his hair tousled and breathing heavily, nodded briefly in acknowledgement of this support. Then the duel resumed and Hexton in a reckless frenzy attacked so wildly that as much by chance or at least brute force, he brought Breckenridge down. It was now the third round and both men were wary now, for the next victory was decisive. They slashed and grappled each other hesitantly, trying out all the combinations they knew, striking and blocking and parrying all they could. They were both breathing heavily now, their hair matted with sweat. The duel had been going on for fifty minutes or so. Then Breckenridge threw everything he had into a sudden rush that went on without stop while his opponent blocked and parried until overcome by an overwhelming flurry of combinations he lost his footing and fell, leaving Breckenridge standing with his wand upraised in triumph. The cheers of his supporters were deafening.
Isabel was satisfied with the outcome. Her champion had been defeated, which meant she could treat him with disdain for failing to give her victory. There was no need to trouble herself further with his attentions; she could tell him to get lost in the politest but most unmistakable of ways. Breckenridge had by now grasped the concept that he was a rejected suitor, which damaged his pride, but his victory in the duel would go a long way to healing the wound to his pride. He could