A Match Made in Bed (Spinster Heiresses #2)(25)

He was wrong.

Nor would she leave it be. At this point, her reputation was in tatters. Her convictions were all she had and they were worth the fight.

She rushed into her room, tore off her nightclothes, and scrambled into the dress hanging there. She didn’t even bother to fuss with her hair. She was going to stop a duel. Artful curls were unnecessary to such an endeavor.





Chapter 7




Of course Cassandra had ambushed him in the hall.

Soren had almost expected it.

He’d also known they needed to hash out what had happened last night. He was not put off by her anger this morning. That seemed to be the way she was most comfortable communicating with him . . . and he didn’t believe it was because of some childish insult.

No, there was something else between him and Cass—

“Miss Holwell is certainly fetching en déshabillé,” Camberly observed. “Perhaps I should rethink this idea of marrying an heiress.”

They were going down the stairs heading toward the front door. He spoke half in jest, but the stab of jealousy Soren experienced brought him to halt. “Cass Holwell is not for you.”

“Cassandra,” Camberly corrected. “Like the seer warning the Trojans.”

“You are full of nonsense,” Soren shot back, sorely conscious that Cass would have known what he was talking about. Soren hadn’t been one to pay attention in school.

He marched down the remaining stairs uncaring of whether the duke followed him or not, although he knew he would.

“You are quite testy this morning,” Camberly said. “One would sense you are angry with me. And for what? I’ve been up all night in your service.”

Was he truly that obtuse? “If you wish to play fast and loose with women, that is your choice. However, you will leave Miss Holwell alone.”

“I don’t play fast and loose with women.”

Soren gave him a look of disgust.

“I don’t,” Camberly insisted. “You are talking about Letty, aren’t you? Soren, I worship her. She is my goddess. I’m not interested in your Miss Holwell.”

Soren liked hearing those words. He walked on. A footman opened the front door for them.

Once outside, the duke continued, “The problem is that Letty is married to the wrong man. Bainhurst cares more for his pride than his wife.”

“Funny how pride is all a man has when his wife is cuckolding him,” Soren said under his breath, but he was heard anyway.

“Is it cuckolding if one has found love?”

“Do you hear yourself? How would you feel if you were in Bainhurst’s boots?”

Camberly did not answer. Instead, he changed the subject by catching Soren’s arm. “The park is this way,” he said. The side path led them to an expanse of green lawn. Fog drifted like dragon’s breath through the clearing.

Under the branches of a spreading oak, Bainhurst and his second waited along with a few men interested enough in the contest to disturb their sleep.

Soren began mentally preparing himself for the coming venture, only to be interrupted by the duke’s weak logic. “She would be better off without him.”

“We all would. That doesn’t mean you ignore the vows made before man and God.”

“Says the man who has challenged him to a duel.”

“He challenged me.” Soren stopped when they were some twenty feet from the other men. He faced Camberly. “And if I don’t do this, then all the world will believe I dishonored Cassandra Holwell. I’ll be damned if I let that happen.” He began tugging at the knot in his neck cloth.

“But didn’t I hear people say last night that you proposed marriage to her? And she turned you down?”

“As is her right.” He handed his neck cloth to Camberly. “Besides, she didn’t say no. She said she couldn’t. Her father is behind that decision.”

“She hasn’t acted all that interested in you when I’ve been around the two of you.”

That statement annoyed Soren. He removed his jacket and handed it to the duke. “Cass is an independent thinker. She has queer notions.”

“Such as?”

“She reads prodigiously.”

Camberly shrugged. “I believe everyone should read prodigiously.”

“You are not female. Cass will have an idea in her head and then she is hard to dissuade once she has reasoned her way into it.”

“Such as her distaste for dueling?”

“Exactly.”

“Then you had best be ready because here she comes now.”

Camberly was looking past Soren toward the house—and there she was, making her way toward them, her whole being bristling with indignation. She had dressed hastily and had not appeared to have touched her hair. Her braid swung with her determination. Soren had no doubt she intended to the stop the duel.

Well, Cass-an-drrraaa was about to learn she could not always have her way. He reached for the hilt of the sword Camberly held in its scabbard and pulled it out. He hadn’t bothered removing his boots for this match. He didn’t expect the swordfight to last long.

The sharpened blade caught the first rays of the morning’s sun. “Come, Bainhurst,” he called. “Let’s do this.” In an aside to Camberly, he said, “Make certain she stays out the way.” He walked to the flat section of field in front to wait for his opponent.