Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year. Кэрол Мортимер
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opened the door and Gideon greeted him with a grin.
‘By Gad, you look as if you had lost sixpence and found a groat, Thomas. What is it, has Cook given notice?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Where is Mrs Albury?’
‘She—she’s gone, sir.’
‘Gone? You mean she has not returned from town yet?’
‘N-no, sir. I mean she has gone. Left.’ Gideon paused in the act of stripping off his gloves and under his frowning gaze the butler stumbled on. ‘Mrs Albury did come back, sir, with Lady Ribblestone, but she immediately left again, with her maid, and Nurse and Master James.’
‘What!’
Gideon dashed up the stairs. Dominique’s bedchamber was the first door he came to and he entered without knocking. The room was in a state of disarray, drawers and cupboards open and clothes scattered, as if someone had left in a hurry. He went quickly to the nursery, which was in very much the same state. He was still trying to take it all in when there was a discreet cough behind him and he turned to find his valet standing in the doorway.
‘What has gone on here, Runcorn?’
‘As to that I couldn’t say, sir. Mrs Albury came in with Lady Ribblestone soon after one o’clock and set the household by the ears.’
‘I can see that,’ muttered Gideon, grimly surveying the empty nursery.
‘From the little that I overheard,’ continued the valet in a toneless voice, ‘I believe they had met Lord Martlesham in Piccadilly...’
‘The devil they did!’ Suddenly it all made sense. Gideon swung round. ‘Any idea where they were going?’
‘I am afraid not, sir, but if it is any consolation, they all went off in Lady Ribblestone’s carriage.’
Cursing his stupidity, Gideon went back down the stairs, barking orders as he went.
* * *
Lord Ribblestone looked up from the letter in his hand when Gideon was shown into his study.
‘Is my wife here?’
Gideon wasted no time on pleasantries, but that did not seem to surprise his host.
‘No, and neither is mine.’ Anthony held out the paper. ‘I have only just come in myself and this was waiting for me. It is very garbled, but it appears Gwen has taken Dominique to Rotham.’
‘Thank God.’
Gideon sat down abruptly. Anthony walked over to a side table and filled two glasses from the decanter. He handed one to Gideon.
‘Trouble?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Gideon passed his hand across his eyes and quickly explained the events of the past few hours.
‘I hate to say I told you so,’ murmured Anthony, when he had finished. ‘But if you had told Dominique what you were about...’
‘I know, but it is too late for that now.’
‘Well, I suppose we must go after them.’
‘We?’
Anthony’s eyes narrowed.
‘My wife has gone, too, you know.’
‘Very well, but there is some business that needs attention first.’
‘Where are we going?’ asked Anthony, following him out of the room.
‘To White’s. I have a score to settle with Martlesham and I will need a second!’
* * *
Despite the early hour the club was busy and they found the earl at one of the card tables. He was surrounded by his cronies, including Carstairs and the foppish Williams. The earl was counting his winnings, but he glanced up as Gideon entered.
‘Albury,’ he called across the room. ‘Have you come to escape your wife’s wrath?’
‘Not at all,’ replied Gideon, stripping off his gloves.
Max cast a smirking glance at his cronies.
‘Quite a shock for her, to see you driving through Piccadilly with the delectable Mrs Bennet at your side. After all, ’twas only a year ago you were intent upon making her your bride, eh?’ A few stifled laughs were heard, but Gideon said nothing as he walked towards his quarry. Max was still chuckling as he rose from the table and stood before Gideon, his lip curled in a sneer. ‘No doubt you have installed the whore in a little love nest of your own.’
‘Don’t judge everyone by your own standards, Max. Mrs Bennet is now safely out of your way, but she did send something for you.’
Without warning Gideon’s fist came up and crashed into Max’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Uproar ensued. Everyone crowded around and there were some mutters of ‘bad form!’ but a gesture from Lord Ribblestone prevented anyone laying hands upon Gideon.
‘By God, you will meet me for that!’ Max scrambled to his feet, his face suffused with rage and one hand pressed to his bleeding nose.
‘With pleasure,’ retorted Gideon coldly. ‘You planned to dupe my wife out of her rightful inheritance and I demand satisfaction for that. Hampstead Heath. Nine o’clock tonight.’
‘Tonight!’ The buck-toothed Williams raised his quizzing glass to stare at Gideon. ‘Nay, sir, make it tomorrow, at dawn.’
‘I have business that cannot wait,’ said Gideon shortly. He fixed his eyes on Max. ‘Nine o’clock, Martlesham. Be there, or be branded a rogue and a coward!’
* * *
The sun had set on a cloudless May day when Gideon drove on to Hampstead Heath. He stopped his curricle behind a closed carriage, from which a sober-looking gentleman in a bagwig was emerging, carrying a leather bag.
‘So we have a surgeon on hand, in any event,’ he remarked cheerfully.
‘Are you sure this is wise?’ murmured Ribblestone.
‘No, but it is necessary. I should have done it a year ago, rather than forcing Dominique to go on with a marriage that was none of her choosing.’ He looked up as he heard another carriage approaching. ‘Here’s Martlesham now, with Carstairs as his second. Let us finish this.’
* * *
Gideon talked to the doctor while Ribblestone conferred with Mr Carstairs. They inspected the duelling pistols—a pair provided by Anthony that Gideon had practised with on several occasions—then the combatants took their places. The light was fading fast and a cold wind had blown up. The white handkerchief fluttered and fell. Gideon’s arm jerked up and he fired, seeing a simultaneous flash from the other gun. Martlesham collapsed with a yell and Gideon stood for a moment while his brain ascertained that he had taken no hurt himself. Tossing the pistol back to Ribblestone, he strode off towards the curricle.
‘Very neatly expedited,’ said Anthony, stowing the box containing the pistols beneath the seat and scrambling up. ‘And he is not dead, so you needn’t flee the country.’
Gideon set the team in motion, glancing back just once as they drove away. Max was being helped into his carriage by Carstairs and the doctor.
‘I never intended to kill him. The bullet in his shoulder is nothing to the pain he will suffer tomorrow when the bank informs him that he no longer has any hope of touching Rainault’s fortune. Dominique and her mother will soon have control of that.’
‘And if he had hit you?’
Gideon gave a grim smile.
‘Max has been drinking all day and in this light he had little chance of hitting a house, let alone a man.’
‘What