The Wedding Affair (Rebel Hearts 1)

Felix found his spot on the grass below the duke’s study and waited for his rival. Louisa apparently had more than a few hushed words to say to the young earl, but whatever was said was endured, though with a mournful expression by Lord Cameron.

When they parted company, Louisa ran to her sister’s side and the pair stood arm in arm. He saluted them and faced Lord Cameron.

The young earl appeared a little more nervous now than before.

“We start at half speed,” Felix murmured and then explained how the morning practice would proceed.

“Very good, Captain.” Lord Cameron flexed his arms when he finished and then prepared to fight.

“Let’s begin.” Felix had trained many young men within the confines of the ship’s narrow layout. He had taught them how to avoid entrapment, how to use the ship’s rigging and timbers as shields, and not traps to hamper their movements. Fighting in a pretty, open garden afforded no such impediments. A wild, uncontrolled swing could cut deeply.

The young man was much more skilled than he, and Louisa, had given the earl credit for. Very soon he urged Lord Cameron to fight faster, and they battled around the garden until a fine sweat beaded his temple. A crowd had gathered—servants and family were placing bets, some hanging from upper windows and calling to each other. Drawn by the sound of weapon strikes, they gossiped and gasped depending on who appeared to have the upper hand.

Lord Cameron caught his heel in a divot and fell backward over the short clipped hedge that surrounded the garden. He went down hard and groaned as his head struck earth. Felix surged forward, believing the man had dealt his head a severe blow. As he leaned over him, Lord Cameron raised his sword arm and swung.

Sally screamed as the blade sliced his shirt.

r /> “Victory,” Lord Cameron crowed, pulling his arm back quickly so Felix was not impaled upon his blade, and tossed the weapon away.

Felix found his breath at last, then checked his sliced shirt and the skin beneath, knowing from experience an injury often did not feel bad until a moment or two has passed. The shirt was ruined, but nothing more perilous had occurred. “No harm done.”

Lord Cameron rested his head on the gravel path and puffed. “Had to do something to best you,” he complained. “Even if you were holding back, I could not have lasted any longer.”

“Well played.” He helped Lord Cameron stand and then shook his hand. “If I ever need practice, remind me not to come to see you anytime soon. You are deceptively modest about your skills, my lord.”

Lord Cameron grinned, his pride full and obvious. “Thank you.”

Morgan rushed over. “His Grace wishes to see you both in his study.”

Felix sighed even though he was growing used to the duke’s urgent summonses. If he agreed to work for the man, he would be answering them for all the days that remained of his life. “Tell him we will join him as soon as we are presentable and have our breath back.”

“Very good, Captain. My lord.”

They parted to redress.

As Felix was shrugging on his coat, he became aware that Sally stood near. Everyone was off congratulating Lord Cameron on his fine show of skill and cunning victory, but she crept closer, one hesitant step at a time. “Sally?”

“Did he hurt you?”

Felix glanced at his stomach. “The shirt will need a few stitches, but it is not dire.”

“Leave it out and it will be repaired,” she told him, her hands clenched at her waist. “He could have killed you.”

“No. He might be proficient with a sword, but he is not a killer. He was always in control.”

Sally chewed her lip. “I almost died when he swung.”

Felix approached her, bringing his sword with him. Sally was pale, her eyes wide with lingering fear. “You should not worry for me. I know what I am doing.”

“I don’t. Not anymore.”

Although he should take every care with her reputation, he touched her arm and squeezed. “Come to me again tonight, and I will remind you.”

Felix knew what he was doing. He was winning Sally back—one indiscretion at a time.

Morgan returned, his expression apologetic. “Captain?”

“I have to go now unfortunately. The duke wants me.”