Page 27 of An Inconvenient Duke

Before Pearce could reply that purchasing an armory was a damnably unusual way to escape, Merritt called out to Marcus and tossed the rapier to him. He easily caught it and smiled grimly when Merritt took down a second sword.

Merritt Rivers was one of the best swordsmen His Majesty’s army had ever produced. Normally, Marcus avoided sparring with him, to save his pride a certain beating. But tonight, he felt just masochistic enough to engage.

As Merritt shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it aside, Pearce leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest, settling in to watch. “What made you come here tonight?”

“Undoubtedly a woman.” Merritt pulled off his cravat and tossed it over his jacket, then rolled up his shirtsleeves. “Probably the one he was so enamored of at the party.” He grinned as he came forward, brandishing the sword in quick, slashing arcs through the air to gain the feel of the blade. “Turned you down, did she?”

“She is the Honorable Danielle Williams, daughter of Baron Mondale, and I am not enamored of her.” No, he just inexplicably turned into a nodcock whenever he was around her. “And I don’t proposition innocent misses.”

“No,” Pearce agreed dryly. “As a duke, you marry them.”

He leveled a hard look at the earl, saying nothing. There was no good reply to that.

When Merritt took his position across from him on the open stretch of floor, Marcus ignored Pearce’s baiting and raised his sword in salute. Merritt did the same.

“En garde,” Pearce called out, acting as de facto referee. The two men turned their shoulders toward each other, their swords pointed at the floor. “Prêt?” Both men readied their stances, bending their front legs and shifting their weight onto their rear feet. Their swords raised. “Allez!”

Merritt lunged, immediately gaining the offensive. Marcus parried the thrust and deflected Merritt’s sword. There was no blunt tip on either rapier, but each man had trusted the other with his life on the battlefield, just as they trusted now in each other’s skilled control to keep from injuring the other. Although Marcus would be lucky if he managed to touch Merritt at all, who now advanced and retreated with expert footwork that made getting close to him nearly impossible.

The metallic ring of blade striking blade echoed off the stone walls and filled the large space that stretched three floors above their heads. When Merritt fended off a thrust with a circle parry, the defensive move separated the two men by several steps, giving Marcus a moment to catch back his wind.

“So why ask us here tonight, General?” Merritt’s voice was barely winded, his reflexes still as quick and deadly as they’d been when he’d been commissioned.

“Because I need your help.”

Pearce called out, “With what problem?”

A problem, all right. Marcus smiled tightly as the two men engaged once more. “Miss Williams.”

Merritt thrust again, this time with a circling flick of his wrist as his blade ran down the length of Marcus’s. He easily twisted the sword from Marcus’s hand. It landed on the stone floor at his feet with a clatter. Merritt grinned, retreating to let Marcus pick up his rapier. Had this been a real duel, Marcus would be dead. “You’re losing your touch, General.”

Doubtful. Merritt was simply that good. Always had been. Still, he acknowledged, “My skills can dull a bit. We’re not reconnoitering the French.”

“No. A society lady.” Merritt saluted Marcus with his sword. “In my experience, far more dangerous than the French. I’ve seen how they use those parasols. As deadly as bayonets.”

Pearce made a wry face. “No quarter either. When they capture a man, it’s for life.”

“Best not let them capture you then.” Despite his grin, there was a low warning in Merritt’s voice.

But capturing Danielle Williams to wife wasn’t at all why he’d asked Merritt and Pearce to join him here tonight.

Certainly she was attractive, and the woman she’d become held little in common with the girl he remembered. Like a butterfly from a cocoon, Danielle had transformed into a graceful, lithe, and curvaceous lady, one who possessed a regal air and self-confidence that were simply alluring. When they’d danced, she’d moved in his arms as if she belonged there, matching him step for step and faltering only when he’d challenged her about Elise. And good Lord, how sweet she’d tasted when he’d kissed her…a decadent mix of honey and wine.

How she’d managed to turn twenty-five and remain unwed he had no idea. Neither was he the man to end that. His concern for Danielle went only as far as gaining justice for his sister’s death.

“I’m not one to get himself leg-shackled by the enemy,” Marcus countered as they once more took up their bout.

Merritt’s eyes gleamed knowingly as he deflected a slashing strike. “Even by one in petticoats?”

He gritted his teeth and shoved Merritt’s blade away with sheer strength, pushing his friend backward several feet. “Especiallyone in petticoats.”

“Then why do you need our help?” Pearce called out, still leaning against the wall and safely out of the way.

Marcus sidestepped Merritt’s slash of the rapier. “Because she has information I need.”

“About what?”

“Elise’s murder.”