Page 24 of Souvenir of Love

Anne stiffened. She wouldnothave achieved everything.

She would still be unmarried. She’d still be the source of whispers and false pity: poor Anne, another season and still no husband. Still be prey to clumsy attempts at matchmaking: friends seating her at supper parties next to their half-witted cousins and bumbling brothers, men who could barely get a fork to their mouths, much less make intelligent conversation.

“You won’t marry that girl,” she said, her voice rising. “I won’t permit it.” If James married her, Elizabeth would find a husband in her first season! No standing in corners, watching others dance, pretending to be disinterested. No waiting to see who would be left to take her in to supper. The whole scandal would fade from people’s minds. She could just imagine the gossip then!Poor Anne, even her rakehell brother has found a wife, such a shame about her…

“Might I remind you, Anne”—James drew himself up, his voice as cold as winter—“that I do not require your permission to wed Elizabeth Harcrest?”

And from Anne’s open bedchamber door came an even colder voice.

“But you do require mine,” Rafe Harcrest said. “And you and the rest of the devil’s minions will skate in hell before I grant it.”

Nine

“Moreham! How dare you enter my personal apartments uninvited?”

“After the injury you and your brother have done to my sister, Anne, there is little I would not dare to restore her honor.”

“Herhonor, Moreham?” Anne’s shock faded, and as her color returned, she gave a brittle laugh. “Elizabeth was an unruly child, and now she is an unruly young woman. If it had not been James in the library, mark my words, it would soon have been another.”

“But it was James.” Rafe strode across the cream and gold Aubusson carpet, until he reached Dinsmore. The two men stood, face-to-face. “And it is James who owes me satisfaction.”

“A duel?” Anne said, her voice full of scorn. “Don’t beabsurd, Moreham. How barbaric, howold-fashioned. Do you think waving pistols at dawn will stop people from talking?”

“It will give them something different to discuss,” Rafe said, never taking his eyes from James. “Your brother’s death.”

“You will not kill him. He will never accept such an outrageous challenge.”

“Name your second, Moreham,” James replied coolly.

“Davenport. And yours?”

“Grenville.”

“Lord Grenville?” Rafe arched a brow. “Ashton and Lounsbury will be devastated at being passed over. Grenville is far more respectable a choice than I would have expected from you.”

“That’s always been your problem, Moreham, so set in your expectations, so certain you see the right of things?—”

“I see the right of you, or rather I should say, the wrong of you.”

“Naturally, you’ve always looked for the worst in me. And in Elizabeth,” he added softly.

“Don’t speak her name, Dinsmore.”

“She wanted him, Moreham. Think onthat.” Anne’s voice was vicious. “I saw her.Everyonesaw her. She?—”

“Enough, Anne,” James said firmly, never taking his eyes from Rafe’s.

“Choose your weapons, Dinsmore.”

“I’ve heard you’re an excellent marksman.”

“You’ve heard correctly.” Rafe smiled, a curve of the lips that was anything but warm. “I take it, then, that your choice will be swords?”

“Do you take me for a coward?”

“I take you for a dishonorable cur.”

James’s smile matched Rafe’s. “I choose pistols.”