Devil's Embrace (Devil 1)

Chapter 27

Gray streaks of dawn lighted the bedchamber when Cassie heard a soft knock on the outer door. She heard Grumman’s soft voice and Edward’s subdued response. She waited only a few seconds after the door closed before she swiftly threw back the bedcovers, straightened her gown, and pulled on her cloak.

She tiptoed down the creaking oak stairs, relieved that there was as yet no one about. She quietly pulled up the latch on the front door of the inn and peered out into the courtyard. She quickly drew back inside at the sight of Major Andre astride his bay stallion waiting for Edward to mount Delila. Cassie waited until they disappeared from view along the road, then slipped out the front door and ran to the stable, her skirts pulled up in her hands. She pulled several coins from her pocket and pressed them into Will’s sleepy hand. She stepped back, tapping her foot impatiently while he bridled the mare she had selected the previous evening.

She stayed him when he leaned over to heave up the saddle. “Nay, Will, do not bother. There is not time. You are certain that they are going to the Commons?”

“Yes, milady. Major Andre spoke clearly. And besides, it is there that all the gentlemen fight their duels.”

Cassie felt a wrenching tightening in her stomach at his matter-of-fact tone. She raised her foot for Will to toss her up upon the mare’s wide back. “I pray I will not be gone too long. And thank you, Will.”

Cassie flicked the reins, and her mare broke unwillingly into a trot through the courtyard and onto the road. She shivered in the chill early morning air and thrust her free hand into the pocket of her cloak. She clenched her teeth against a bout of morning sickness that raised bile in her throat.

Curious eyes followed her progress through the near-empty streets, but she paid them no heed. The sky was overcast and Cassie found herself praying for a violent downpour, anything that would put a stop to this madness.

“It is a matter of pride.” Scargill’s quiet words floated through her mind. She had lost hers during the long hours of the night as she lay huddled in her bed.

She guided her mare onto the Commons, a stretch of barren ground surrounded by naked-branched trees. She saw them at the far end of the Commons; Scargill and Major Andre standing together, the earl and Edward apart, stripping off their overcoats. She heard the whinnying of their horses, tethered to scraggly bushes. She sucked in her breath at the sight of a silver rapier cutting through the air. Edward was testing the flexibility of his blade. The earl stood quietly, his fingers caressing the razor edge of his sword.

She slipped off her mare’s back. She ran quickly toward them, her footsteps noiseless in the dew-soaked grass. She froze in her tracks at Major Andre’s cold command, “En garde!”

The earl and Edward, both stripped to their frilled white shirts and tight, dark, knitted breeches, circled toward each other, slashing their rapiers in front of them. She ran forward, her cloak billowing out behind her, as the sound of clashing steel rang in the heavy air.

“Lady Delford.” Major Andre’s shocked, reproving voice rose above the raging foils, and she felt his hand grab her arm.

“Let me go, you fool. I am not Lady Delford, and this madness must be stopped.”

“Madonna, it is too late.”

Cassie turned stricken eyes to Scargill. “You said it was a matter of pride. Dammit, I cannot let this happen. Let me go, Major, else I shall do something very unladylike to you.”

“But—” Major Andre sputtered, taken aback by her unexpected ferociousness. He dropped his hand.

Cassie knew that both the earl and Edward were aware of her presence, but neither of them paid her any heed. She heard a growl from Edward as he lunged forward, his foil a blur as it whistled toward the earl. The earl deflected his blade and drew him into a wild flurry.

Cassie jerked the small pistol from her cloak pocket and dashed forward. She was close enough to see beads of perspiration upon Edward’s brow, and hear his rasping breathing. He was defending himself with poise and swiftness, but the earl was easily the more powerful, and his body moved with deadly grace, the foil an easy extension of his arm.

“Stop it, both of you.”

“Leave, Cassandra,” the earl shouted, his eyes flitting toward her for a brief instant, “else I promise to thrash you.”

Slowly, Cassie raised the pistol and pressed it against her temple. “If you do not cease your madness this instant, I swear I will pull the trigger.”

“Cassie.” Edward stared at her, drawing in his foil. The earl turned slowly toward her, and dropped his rapier to the ground.

“Put that pistol down, Cassandra,” he said. She could hear fear in his voice.

Cassie tightened her grip on the butt. “I mean it, my lord. Damn both of you. Edward, leave go. Forget your wretched honor. I love him, do you hear? I could not bear it if you harmed him. And you, my lord, do you wish to destroy our lives by being the cause of Edward’s death?”

Her eyes were pleading on Edward’s face, and he looked at her uncertainly.

The earl strode toward her. She lowered the pistol from her temple, and aimed it at his chest. “I shot you once, my lord,” she said in a voice of deadly calm. “Do not doubt that I would do it again.”

He stopped abruptly, his eyes boring into hers. “Cease this nonsense, Cassandra. You interfere where you do not belong.”

“Do not belong?” she shrieked at him. “Are both of you so lost to reason? I swear to you that I will put a bullet through you if you do not promise me you will stop.”

She thought she had won, for Edward nodded his head at her. As she looked at him, her hand was suddenly borne violently downward. A sharp explosion rent the silence, and the bullet tore into the cold ground.