The Historical Collection. Stephanie Laurens

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The Historical Collection - Stephanie Laurens


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him against the wall. “You’ve avoided the reckoning for years, but now it’s arrived. You’re going to pay for what you did to her.”

      “Stop, please,” Penny cried. “Bradford, we need to talk.”

      “We’ll have plenty of time to talk,” her brother said. “A whole week’s journey to Cumberland. You’re leaving with me.”

      “Get away from her,” Gabriel threatened. “Or I swear I’ll take you down, too.”

      “Gabriel, he doesn’t know.”

      “Then he deserves to pay for that.” He let Lambert drop to the floor, then turned on Bradford. “How could you? How could you not know? Didn’t you see her changing before your eyes? A bright, lively little girl turning shy and withdrawn. Hiding from you, from everyone. Surely you knew something was wrong. You never bothered to ask.”

      After a moment passed in silence, Bradford turned to her. His eyes were full of questions. “Penny?”

      Lambert pressed a handkerchief to his lip. “She’s confused, Bradford. Not difficult to see why, if she’s fallen under the influence of this brigand.” He glared at Gabriel. “See here, Duke. I demand an apology.”

      “Go to Hell,” Gabriel snarled.

      “Then I demand satisfaction.”

      “I’d be glad to give it.”

      Penny’s lungs seized. A duel? She couldn’t let this happen.

      “Name your second, then. Bradford will serve as mine. They can set the time and place.”

      Gabriel shook his head. “I do my own negotiations, and I’m not giving you any time to escape. Tomorrow. Pistols at dawn in St. James Park.”

      Lambert tugged on the lapels of his coat. “I look forward to it. I’m an excellent sportsman and a keen shot.” He glanced at Penny. “Isn’t that right, poppet?”

      Gabriel cocked a fist. “Get out of my house before I grind you into pulp beneath my boots.”

      Before they could go, Penny ran to plead with her brother. “Bradford, you can’t allow this to happen.”

      He regarded her with disappointment in his eyes. “It seems as though you’ve allowed this to happen. What were you thinking, associating with such a man?”

      “He’s a good person. You don’t know him.” You don’t truly know Lambert, either.

      “I know enough,” he said. “I know he’s gone unchecked for too long, destroying our peers and neighbors. For God’s sake, we are standing in a house he shamelessly stole from the Wendlebys.”

      “He didn’t steal it.”

      “I’ll brook no more argument. I’m only too happy to help bring him to account.”

      Penny knew her brother well enough to recognize the expression on his face. His mind was made up. No amount of dissent would sway him now.

      She stepped back and gave him the space to leave.

      Once Bradford and Lambert had departed the room, Penny rushed to Gabriel. Perhaps he could be made to see sense. “A duel? Surely you don’t mean to do this.”

      “I do mean to do this. I wish I could find a way to go back in time and hunt him down there, but I can’t. This is the next best alternative.”

      “If going back in time were possible, we’d miss one another entirely—because I’d go back in time and rescue you from everything you endured. We’ve known pain, the both of us. No one came to our rescue. We are survivors, and we didn’t come through all that only to lose our lives now.” Her voice broke. “Gabriel, he stole years from me already. Don’t let him take our future from us, too.”

      “He already has your future. Part of it, at least. I saw the way you reacted when he entered that ballroom. I felt it. As long as he’s alive and connected to your family, you’ll never be free of him.”

      “Can’t there be some other way? Why must it be a duel?”

      He gave her a wry smile. “I swore you’d marry nothing less than a gentleman. Dueling is the gentleman’s way.”

      She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want a dead gentleman. I’d prefer a living bastard, thank you. And what about George? You have a goat now, and he’s depending on you. If nothing else, think of your kid.”

      “Penny.” He touched her cheek. His eyes brimmed with tenderness. “I’m only thinking of you. If I don’t defend you, I’m not worthy of you. Not in the world’s eyes, nor in my own.”

      “We have to do something,” Penny said firmly. “Ideas?”

      She looked around at her friends. After Gabriel left, she’d sent for Ash and Chase, and they’d all adjourned to her house for an urgent strategy session. In the most direct and matter-of-fact of summaries, she’d relayed the facts of the situation and the imminent danger. Considering the formidable amount of wits and determination represented in her drawing room, surely they could come up with a brilliant way to avert disaster.

      Unfortunately, no one was quick with a suggestion.

      She turned to Chase and Ash. “Can’t you go after him? Punch him in the jaw, or tie him to a chair, or hold him at knifepoint until well after dawn?”

      After conferring with Chase by eye contact, Ash rubbed the back of his neck. “As delightful as that all sounds, I don’t think we can.”

      “Surely the two of you put together can overpower him.”

      “It’s not that.” Chase sat across from her and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Perhaps we could restrain him. But I’m not convinced we should.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because we agree with Gabe, that’s why.” Ash crossed his arms. “In his position, I’d do the same. In fact, I’d be tempted to call Lambert out myself if he hadn’t already. The man deserves to die.”

      Chase reached forward and took her hand. “Penny, what he did to you … I can’t imagine what you suffered. But I believe I can come uncomfortably close to imagining it, when I think of Rosamund and Daisy. I can certainly understand why Gabe feels the need to defend you.”

      “I don’t need defending,” she protested. “It’s in the past. And while I’m sure you do have strong emotions, aren’t my feelings and wishes more important right now? Perhaps Lambert deserves to die. But we all know it’s far more likely that Gabriel will be the one wounded or worse.”

      Nicola joined her argument. “Dueling is an archaic, barbarous, stupid practice in which men pretend to defend a woman’s honor by robbing her of any self-determination.”

      “Is that so?” Ash looked at his wife. “Emma didn’t mind it when I snuck through her despicable father’s window at night and made him piss the bed with fear.”

      “That was different!” Emma said. “There were no bullets involved.”

      Alexandra spoke up. “I was highly put out with Chase when he punched a man on my behalf.”

      “At the time,” Chase argued. “Looking back, would you rather I hadn’t?”

      Alexandra went silent.

      “See?” Chase said.

      Penny jumped to her feet. “Listen, all of you. This isn’t a matter of punching or climbing through windows. A duel means life and death, and considering that Lambert spent every autumn shooting partridges with my father, I have reason to believe he’s the superior marksman of the two. I love Gabriel. I mean to marry him, have a family with him. In order for that to happen, he needs to not die tomorrow morning. And if you care about me at all,


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