A Rake's Midnight Kiss (Sons of Sin 2)

“No, by all means, let’s not quarrel,” she responded sarcastically. “Far better you get your brains blown out.”

He stepped near enough to catch her face between his palms. The heat of his touch warred with the icy fear lancing her heart. “I have no intention of dying. I’ve got too much to live for.”

“We’re not alone,” she stammered, trying to withdraw.

“Cam’s a grown-up. He’ll cope.” His hold, while gentle, was adamant and his kiss, however brief, tasted like he promised her forever. She stared at him, distraught and dazzled in equal measure. By the time anger revived, he’d turned to his friend. “Will you act as my second?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“I’d like to challenge Fairbrother on your behalf.”

Richard frowned. “That’s not done, is it?”

“It’s for the best. You’ll murder the blackguard the moment you see him, devil take the rules of honor.”

“Richard, don’t do this.” Genevieve caught his arm, prepared to restrain him physically if she must. “We’ll go to the magistrate. Lord Neville will hang and never trouble us again. Surely that’s what matters.”

The tender sorrow in his smile made her want to cry. “Genevieve, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Stupid, stupid man. Rage got the better of discretion. “Losing you will hurt me.”

He covered the hand curled around his arm. “You won’t lose me.”

“I must go tonight,” the duke said before she could refute Richard’s fatuous statement.

“He’s probably run.” She clutched at straws, but she’d seize any chance, even the frailest, to save Richard. “After last night, he must know that the duke’s awake to his games.”

Richard shook his head. “He wants to spread news of our supposed elopement.” His grip firmed in reassurance, whereas nothing except his withdrawal from this ludicrous duel could appease her.

The duke spoke to Genevieve who turned to face him. “Miss Barrett, will you stay? Sidonie’s here to preserve the proprieties. Or would you prefer to return to the vicarage?”

“She’s not leaving my side,” Richard said quickly.

She summoned an unsteady smile. “I’d like to stay. May I write my aunt a note telling her where I am?”

“Of course.”

“Godspeed, my friend,” Richard said softly.

With a brief bow, Sedgemoor left the room.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Cam strode up to Neville Fairbrother’s exquisite house, making no attempt to disguise his arrival, and banged the knocker hard. The house was quiet, but every instinct insisted that Fairbrother was in residence.

He slammed the knocker again and this time a footman opened the door. “I am Sedgemoor,” he said coldly. “Pray arrange for someone to hold my horse. Inform Lord Neville that I wish to see him.”

The ducal manner had its usual effect. Within minutes, he stood in the library. The room was more vitrine for objets d’art than refuge for reading. Glass cases crammed with gold, silver, and glittering gems surrounded Cam. One quick glance confirmed that Fairbrother’s collection included everything from tiny, exquisite statues of Egyptian pharaohs through heavily embossed platters in Roman silver to intricate medieval ivories and enamels.

Fairbrother rose at Cam’s appearance and it was clear that he didn’t welcome the interruption. It was also clear that beneath his arrogance, he was wary.

So he damned well should be.

“Lord Neville.”

“Your Grace, this call is unexpected.” Fairbrother’s bluster sat oddly with the scratches on his face.