An hour later, Horatia and the other ladies were assembled on the east side, admiring the fort the gentlemen had built for them. It was a waist high wall that arched around in a half circle about ten feet across, providing ample protection for the women now huddled behind it preparing their arsenals. The vast gardens behind Rochester Hall had been molded into a white battlefield ready for the coming war.Lady Cavendish was helping Lady Rochester manufacture their ammunition. Horatia, Audrey, Lysandra and Lucinda were in a tight circle, all wearing red fur-lined cloaks with heavy hoods pulled up. Audrey had remarked that they were the most fashionable army in Europe. They discussed the various traps and places to avoid in the garden, areas where one might become cornered and savaged by the weapons of the enemy."Should we try to lure them out from their fort?" Lucinda asked.Horatia glanced over her shoulder to the opposing fort fifty feet away. The men were hunkered down out of sigh
The rider from London arrived in the early evening, just in time to prevent everyone from going to dinner. Lucien took the note, and he and Cedric returned to his study to read it in privacy. Horatia and her sister lingered in the corridor outside. She thought it might involve news from his friends in London.Pressed against the wooden door to eavesdrop, Horatia flinched when she heard Cedric curse. There was a heavy thud, as though something had hit the wall. Lucien muttered something she couldn't hear, then there was a growl from her brother before footsteps approached the door. Both Audrey and Horatia scampered back, hoping to conceal their feeble attempts at eavesdropping.When the door opened, Horatia's stomach clenched as she saw Cedric's face shrouded by a mask of pain and barely controlled rage."What is it?" Audrey asked as she glanced between Cedric and Lucien."Charles sent some bad news," Lucien answered carefully. He glanced around, making sure that it was only the fou
Ashton sat in his study on Half Moon Street. Letters of a financial nature were strewn over the surface of his oak wood desk. The numbers on the letters blurred as pain lanced up his left arm, which still hung limp and useless in a sling about his neck.What a bloody nuisance being shot was. He had lost so much of his strength that his footman had to do many routine things for him and his valet, once a minor irritation, had become indispensible. He couldn't put a shirt on, let alone tie his neck cloth or button his trousers without assistance.It was most humiliating. Everyone treated him like a child in leading strings and he was tired of it. And he'd only been injured a few days. The doctor had given him instructions to rest for the next five weeks. The idea was intolerable. He, of all people, could not afford to rest. There was so much to be done aside from his business; namely tracking down Waverly and ending this battle before it could progress to a full-fledged war.With a hea
Cedric stretched stiffly in his chair by Audrey's bedside and rubbed the tight muscles in his neck with a weary hand. His sister was curled up in her bed fast asleep. Her delicate features and troubled expression made her appear like a fairy queen whose woes had followed her deep into the sacred realm of dreams.Holding her had brought back horrific memories of years long past. He couldn't protect her from this, couldn't save her from all the hurts in the world. In many ways, he'd been both father and mother to her and Horatia after losing their parents, and perhaps the greatest cost had been that there was no one to hold him as he silently grieved.The memories of last evening struck him all over again and Cedric shut his eyes. He'd been fond of Muff. The cat had been one of the last connections he and his sisters had of their parents before the accident.The accident. How many years would pass before the sting of his parents' deaths would subside? A man could only endure so much b
The dining room was uncomfortably quiet that morning. Horatia ate only because she did not know what else to do. And even this she prolonged by prodding her food from one side of her plate to the other. Lady Rochester tried to engage her in conversation but Horatia's heart was too bruised to answer Lady Rochester's polite inquiries with much enthusiasm.Horatia's gaze was torn between her brother at the far end of the table and Lucien who sat two seats away. It should have been a wonderful, joyous morning. She was a woman now, had crossed that threshold from innocent maiden to sensual goddess in Lucien's arms last night, yet she felt robbed of her happiness. Cedric's decree that she must choose left an unsettling pit in her stomach.She raised her eyes from her plate to find Lucien watching her every move. All of the pain of her brother's words seem to fade. She made her decision. She would give Lucien time, let him decide how he felt. If in the end he wanted her then she would be wi
Half an hour before Christmas Eve dinner, Lucien paced nervously inside the vast Russell library, waiting for Cedric to arrive. Gone were the last remnants of his misplaced coldness towards Horatia. All that was left was a deep seed of love. He'd spent years salting his soul trying to prevent that seed from taking root. But Horatia had become his sun, his water, and fed that deep seed. Petals were unfurling, roots coiling deep in his heart. He was going to have a long talk with his friend and Cedric would see the light and let Horatia be with him and that was that. There was no going back; he'd crossed the final bridge and burned it to ashes.The library door opened and Cedric entered, looking as cold as the empty suit of armor that guarded it."I received your summons." His friend seemed to choose his words carefully.Lucien tried to smile, but his nerves were on edge. "I did not mean to 'summon' you. I wished to discuss something of importance." His stomach felt as though someone
"It is time, my lord," Felix whispered, rousing Lucien from his bittersweet dreams. With great care he disentangled his body from Horatia's. She remained asleep, but she spread one arm out unconsciously seeking his vanished warmth and Lucien felt her loss like a blow. He dared not touch her, dared not get too close or he'd wake her and never be able to leave.Lucien donned a pair of trousers, then hastily pulled on a shirt and green waistcoat. Without bothering with a cravat, he pulled on his boots and left the room. With a single look back at his bed Lucien silently bid farewell."Sleep, my dear, and dream of the stars."He slipped down the hall until he reached Lawrence's bedroom. He found the door unlocked and saw Lawrence lay sprawled on his stomach, entirely naked from what Lucien could see. He approached his brother's bed and shook his shoulder."Wake up, Lawrence."Lawrence swatted a hand in Lucien's general direction."Five more minutes, Tom." Tom was Lawrence's valet. La
Horatia woke to an empty bed and frowned. Something was wrong. A sense of foreboding rippled through her like the remnants of a nightmare teasing the edges of her waking mind. She slid out of bed and slipped her shift and dressing gown back on. She wanted to seek out Lucien immediately but it seemed better to be fully dressed, should she have to canvas the huge mansion to find him. She trod down the hall and slipped inside her room.She selected a gown that buttoned down the front, so as to avoid summoning Ursula. A moment after fastening the last button, she heard the distant crack of a gunshot. Horatia bolted to her window, which faced the northern field. She saw four distant shapes and a second crack cut across the field. One of the figures collapsed to the ground.A duel! Why hadn't she questioned Lucien? She'd sensed something was amiss last night, but she had ignored it. Why had she done that? In her panic she barely heard the door open behind her."A terrible thing, is it not