Page 25 of Souvenir of Love

“Pity, I should have preferred to slice you with a sword, to leave your flesh as tattered as your honor.”

“You’re an animal, Moreham, a bloodthirsty animal!” Anne grabbed Rafe’s arm. “It’s no wonder you’re so at home with the French. To imagine I ever considered you for a husband!”

“Even more incredible,” Rafe said, removing her hand, “is that I ever considered you for a wife.”

“Leave my sister be, Moreham,” James demanded. “Whatever has gone before, this quarrel is now between the two of us. If you wish to fight with swords, so be it.” He dipped his head, his tone deceptively polite. “Never let it be said that I denied satisfaction to a Harcrest.”

Rafe inhaled sharply. “I will send word of the appointed place and time. You’ll understand if I do not wish either of you a good night.”

“You’ll be the laughingstock of the ton, Rafe Harcrest,” Anne called after him as he strode toward the door.

“Perhaps.” His voice was cold. “But I promise you, Anne. You won’t be laughing with them.”

The slamming of the door echoed throughout the room.

When it faded away, Anne faced her brother. “I’ll find a way to stop this, James, I promise you. I know the right people, I will speak with them.”

“You’ve spoken with enough people, Anne.” James’s mouth was a tight line. “I’ve agreed to meet Moreham and I will.”

“But you could be killed!”

“It’s reassuring to know you have so much faith in me.”

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in you, it’s just that…”

“It’s just that you don’t havesufficientfaith,” he finished the sentence for her. “Apparently a widely held opinion.”

“Not one that I share,” she insisted.

“Ah.” His tone was mocking. “But I do. I am thinking it might be better for everyone involved if Moreham did kill me. The earl would have his satisfaction, Elizabeth her honor restored.”

Anne hugged herself. “And what about us? What would we have?”

“Why, Anne, you’d have everyone’s sympathy, and I…”

His customary expression of studied boredom faltered. He looked momentarily perplexed. “Why, I suppose I’ll be rid of this damnably unfamiliar sense of guilt.”

She was excited,dressed for a party. Everything about her looked perfect, she knew it. She entered a ballroom. People started to laugh. She asked them why, but they turned away. Again and again. She searched desperately for someone who would talk to her. And then she saw James. But he was far away, she couldn’t reach him. She fought through the crowd to find him…there he was! Holding out his arms to her! Then he turned and swept up another woman?—

Elizabeth satbolt upright in bed, clutching at her chest, with a pain as fierce as if her heart had been torn in two. She wouldn’t let herself think this way. James Dinsmore would come for her. He would. Something special had happened between them in the library, just as she had always known it would. She knew he wouldn’t realize it right away—he was so jaded about love, about life, her James. She wanted to explain it to him, what she felt for him and why she had gone into the library with him. But everything had happened too fast. And then the door had opened.

She could tell by the light in the room that it was late; much later than she usually rose. She’d had such trouble falling asleep. She would dress carefully and she would wait. She’d be more patient today and she wouldn’t go out. She had no desire to face more snubs.

When she entered the breakfast room, wincing at the brightness of the sunlight that spilled from the long-paned windows, she found Alix sitting by herself at the table. “Good day, Alix,” Elizabeth said, motioning for a maid to bring her some chocolate. Alix nodded stiffly. “I see Rafe has gone out already.”

She nodded again.

Alix was never particularly talkative in the morning, but she usually could muster a greeting.Was Alix snubbing her, too?Elizabeth tried again. “Has he gone riding?”

“He’s gone to Monsieur d’Elon’s.”

“The fencing master? It’s been ages since he’s practiced with the sword.”Thank God, Alix was talking to her!Elizabeth took a slice of bread from a silver basket and began buttering it.

“He’s not practicing.”

Elizabeth looked up from her bread. “Then whatever is he doing there?”

“Preparing for a duel,” Alix said harshly.