“You may try.” She drew out her own loaded pistol from the reticule she wore looped around her wrist. “Your servants do not want to challenge me, my lord.” She waved her pistol toward the middle of the field. “Go ahead and pace off the distance, gentlemen. I promise you, I will shoot the first one of you who fires.”
The resulting silence was deafening, as Madeline expected. No doubt they were each judging whether or not her word could be credited.
Feeling slightly hopeful, she spoke again, but this time she turned and addressed the baron. “You and I both know, Lord Ackerby, that the contretemps yesterday was a simple misunderstanding. I am certain you did not mean to become quite so … forceful. But now that you have had time for calm reflection absent the heat of the moment, I wonder if you would be willing to proffer the apology Haviland wished for?”
It was evident that Ackerby was no longer in the high dudgeon he’d been in yesterday morning in the Danvers Hall gardens, and Madeline hoped she had given him enough excuse to withdraw gracefully.
Holding her breath, she waited anxiously while Ackerby glanced at Rayne, then cleared his throat. “Perhaps I was too forceful yesterday. If so, I beg your pardon, my dear.”
“There,” Freddie broke in hastily. “Honor is served.”
Relief edged his voice, but Madeline could not yet feel the same sanguinity.
Lifting her veil just enough that Ackerby could see the lower part of her face, she silently mouthed the words, Thank you—you won’t regret this, before saying brightly out loud, “Of course I forgive you, my lord. I am very grateful that we have cleared up this little dispute.”
Madeline dropped her veil as she turned back to Rayne. “You will have to be satisfied with that, Lord Haviland—although if your affronted masculine pride insists, you may always delope. Isn’t that how it is done if a conflict is to be settled to the satisfaction of both parties?”
She spoke of the practice of firing harmlessly into the air, the safe way of ending duels so that neither opponent suffered physical damage.
Rayne remained grimly silent, his scrutiny of her so intense it seemed to pierce her veil. Madeline’s heart was thudding by the time he finally responded in a sardonic tone. “Why waste a good bullet?”
Relief flooded her so strongly that her knees felt weak. But then Rayne spoiled the moment by issuing another threat. “Mark my words, Ackerby, there will be no deloping the next time you dare approach her.”
When the baron took a belligerent step forward, Madeline quickly intervened and laid a soothing hand on Ackerby’s sleeve. “Thank you for your consideration, my lord. Now perhaps you would like to return home and forsake these miserable elements.”
Ackerby visibly gritted his teeth before muttering a summons to his second. “Come, Richardson, we are done here.” Spinning on his heel, then, he stalked away toward his carriage, leaving his colleague to hurry after him.
Once the baron was out of earshot, Rayne’s friend spoke for the first time, his tone slightly amused. “I am most comforted that you didn’t need me after all, Rayne, thanks to this dauntless lady. Would it be too forward of me to beg an introduction?”
“I would be happy to oblige, Will,” Rayne replied dryly, “but as you heard, the dauntless lady wishes to keep her name concealed. Perhaps under more auspicious circumstances….”
The man Madeline presumed was Will Stokes accepted Rayne’s refusal with good grace. “Well then, I will take my leave of you. Naturally, if you require my services in any other endeavor, you have only to ask.”
“My thanks to you for coming today.”
With a slight bow, Rayne’s second retreated to his own carriage, leaving Madeline alone with Rayne and Freddie.
“Mr. Lunsford and I should be leaving as well,” she murmured, not liking the piercing way Rayne was still looking at her. “He rose much earlier than customary for his constitution, and he needs his rest.”
Rayne did not appear to buy her argument, however. “Not so fast, darling,” he drawled in warning.
Madeline took a defensive step backward. “Freddie will see me home.”
“No, he will not. You and I need to have a little discussion just now. Freddie won’t interfere if he knows what is good for him,” Rayne added, shooting his cousin a scalding look.
So saying, he took her firmly by the elbow and ushered her toward his coach.
“I won’t drive home alone with you, Rayne,” Madeline said in protest. “I don’t trust you after you employed your arts of seduction the last time.”
“You needn’t worry on that score. I merely want a measure of privacy while I wring your neck.”
Understandably, his threat somewhat relieved Madeline. She had feared giving Rayne the chance to repeat his sensual assault of two nights ago, but clearly his mood just now was not the least amorous. Which was fortunate for her, Madeline reflected. Rayne looked distinctly dangerous at present, but she could deal with his anger much more easily than she could resist his seduction.
“Your servants will know if you murder me,” she pointed out meekly. “And so will Freddie.”
“I intend to deal with Freddie later.”
The baron’s coach had pulled away by the time they reached the edge of the meadow, and Will Stokes’s gig was doing the same.