The Second Shot (The Dueling Pistols) (10 page)

"And how does that concern me, Felicity?"

"I'm asking you to pretend a private engagement to me. They will trust that I am in capable hands and go home."

Perhaps she hadn't understood him the first time. "No. I have no intention of marrying. I will not enter a sham engagement, either."

She clenched the lapel of her pelisse in one hand. "You owe me at least that, Tony."

"No, madam, I believe you owe
me.
Did you ever intend for us to marry, or was I just bait so you could land a bigger fish?" He gestured around the opulent room.

She stared at him and finally shook her head in a bewildered way. "How could you doubt that I intended to marry you? After what happened, how could you doubt that?"

"Lying in a hospital for six months, battling with surgeons daily to let me keep my leg, wondering if I would die from the gangrene, leaves a lot of time for doubts when you had already married another man."

"What was I to do?" Her anger was back. She stood and paced across the room. "You told me to stay in England, that you didn't want me there with you."

"Spain was no place for you. I couldn't have taken care of you, protected you. It was a bloody war, damn it. You wouldn't have been safe there." His voice had risen to a shout.

She snapped back sarcastically, "I'm sorry, I wasn't that strong."

He continued leaning against the chaise and watched her stalk across the room. She was angry, fuming. Was she hurt when he told her not to come to Spain?

"If your answer is no, then good day, Major Sheridan. Please do not return."

"I'll consider it on one condition."

She stopped and waited, her back to him.

"That we pick up our 'pretend engagement,' exactly where we left our real one." He pushed away from the back of the chaise and willed his leg to behave. He wanted to see her face.

"You mean an affair."

"Just a few months and I'll be out of your life." And God help him, she'd be out of his dreams forever.

Her arms hung at her side, and her shoulders slumped.

"It is fair, Felicity. You want something from me. I want something from you."

He reply was the merest whisper. "No, I can't go through that again."

He had almost reached her. The room was far too large. Her response confused him. She had given herself to him long ago, enjoyed their one night of passion. He'd seen it in her eyes, in the delicate flush of her skin, tasted it in her kisses. What had happened to make her reject the hope of experiencing that bliss once more?

He put his hands on her shoulders and felt her shudder. Had her husband been cruel? Leaning close, he spoke in a low, soothing voice. "It's me—Tony—and you know I would never hurt you, misuse you, or force you to do anything you don't want to do." He rubbed his thumbs in soothing circles. "Your promise would be enough for now."

She spun away from him and swiped her gloved hand under her eye. "You already did hurt me, misused me, forced me—oh nevermind, just go."

His gut churned. What had he ever done that made her think that?

The door to the room cracked open. Felicity's lips trembled as she forced them into a small smile.

"Mama?" The word was plaintive. "Are we going? The carriage is waiting."

"In a minute, Charles. We are almost done."

Charles saw Tony and scooted in the doorway. "Oh, did you bring your dog?"

The little boy stood, a touch of blue in the green room. His short jacket was blue. His long pants down to his buckled shoes were blue. His eyes were a pale, pale blue—not of infancy but of the kind that stared back at Tony from his shaving glass every morning.

For a second Tony forgot how to do simple arithmetic. But his brain quickly added it all up and there was no avoiding the obvious answer.

His leg faltered, and he sat down hard on a couch with reclining-lion arms. "You're not yet six, are you?"

"Almost," said Charles as he skipped into the room. "I have a loose tooth." He opened his mouth and waggled one of his lower teeth. "Mama says it is impolite for a gentleman to sit when there is a lady standing."

Tony nodded solemnly at Charles. "I expect your mother shall have to forgive me."

Felicity rubbed her forehead. What insanity had prompted her to think she could convince Tony to do anything he didn't want to do? He hadn't done the honorable thing when she'd written him about her pregnancy. Why did she expect him to do the right thing now? Or at least do something to help her? Yet, she almost believed him when he said he wouldn't harm her. Her heart believed, even after all he'd done.

His kiss had shaken her, reminded her of the pleasure she'd found in his arms, awakened a part of her that had been dormant. She couldn't have an affair with him. She'd lose herself again. But his lips against hers were their own special torture and bliss.

"We need to leave. Diana will be waiting," she said firmly.

"I shall come with you."

"Absolutely not necessary." She just wanted him to leave.

"Not bloody likely to be helpful, either," he muttered.

Felicity put her hands on her hips, ready to tear into him. What was he thinking? It wasn't like Tony to be rude. Forceful, arrogant, but not rude. "I agree."

He massaged his thigh with both hands. "I shall go with you. It's the least I can do."

She didn't need him to go along. What's more, she didn't want him along. And if she could just get the appropriate members of her family to come along, she would leave him and his confusing advances behind.

"Come along, Charles. We cannot keep Diana waiting." Felicity adjusted her bonnet—when had it become askew? Oh, her step faltered. When he kissed her, when her world tilted upside-down.

Thank heaven Charles had come in shortly after that. She blessed the stars that Charles had gotten past his fear of the carvings. Lord knows it wouldn't have taken much for Tony to have convinced her to sprawl on the chaise longue with him.

"Pigs, pigs, pigs," muttered Felicity. She would not succumb to the idiocy, this insanity, this enchantment, ever again. But his touch, like before, had been so gentle and persuasive, and he made the thought of an affair far too easy to imagine. His kiss made her lips tingle, made everything tingle.

"What did you say?" He looked at her, and for the first time she marked some humanness in his pale blue eyes. He looked as if he was in agony.

Her burst of concern for his welfare irritated her, but she was helpless to avoid voicing her worry. "Are you all right? Shall I have my carriage set you down somewhere?"

Tony stood. The pain blanked from his eyes, which once again grew stony, cold, and distant. "At the dock to retrieve your niece." He held out an arm toward the door. "Shall we?"

"How badly were you hurt?"

"Not so badly this time." His reply was maddeningly uninformative.

"How bad was it the first time?"

"Bad."

"Tony," she said with exasperation. Had his injury interfered with his intention to return home in enough time to marry her? Had he thought he would die?

She shook her head. Without some indication from him, just the curt letter telling her to stay home, she'd had to find someone to marry her before her predicament became obvious.

He placed his palm against the small of her back and guided her through the door. She shouldn't have asked. She desperately wanted to give him a chance to explain, to tell her that if she had traveled to Spain he would have fulfilled his promise. She wanted to believe in his honor.

But she had to face facts. The man had no nobility of character when it came to her. He had just insisted on an affair in response a very minor request to pretend an engagement in front of her parents. Just when she'd given up on his responding, he answered her.

"Shot the first time. Stabbed with a bayonet the second time, but I'll spare you the details."

"You were shot?" asked Charles, his eyes big.

"I'm asking for details," Felicity pointed out.

Tony nodded, and in a low aside that made her shiver, he said, "Later."

The tone was full of pillow-talk promises. She rolled her eyes. There wouldn't be any later. In fact, if she walked a little faster, she wouldn't have to put up with his guiding hand at the small of her back. Her feet seemed reluctant to speed up the pace.

When they reached the entry hall, Felicity inquired of her butler if her father was ready to leave. The butler sent a footman to inquire.

The long case clock showed a quarter past noon. She'd told her father they were leaving at noon. After another minute ticked by and Felicity fretted that Tony shouldn't be standing on his leg, Lady Greyston clattered into the room.

"Your father just sat down to eat nuncheon." Her mother turned her attention to Tony. "How pleasant to see you again, Major Sheridan."

Felicity sighed. It was very like her father to use this kind of technique to avoid accompanying Felicity to retrieve her niece. "I told him we needed to leave at noon. We cannot just leave Diana waiting on the docks."

She didn't know why she bothered protesting. It wouldn't make a bit of difference.

Tony's hand pressed against her back.

"Well, then, send the coach," said her mother.

"Let us go, Felicity," said Tony. "The docks are no place to leave a young lady alone. Charles, to the carriage."

Felicity bit her lip as her son followed Tony's command without question. The little traitor.

At first they followed Charles to the door, but Tony's hand slid around her waist and pulled her back. After Charles skipped down the stairs, Tony pivoted, swinging Felicity around him to face her mother.

His gaze fastened on Felicity as he spoke, "Lady Greyston, you should be the first to know that Felicity has done me the honor of agreeing to be my wife."

Felicity's squeak of outrage was cut off by Tony's minute shake of his head. Then her mother was hugging Tony.

"That is simply wonderful news," said Lady Greyston.

His pale blue eyes met hers, and Felicity was suddenly chilled by the determination she saw there.

"Of course, we can't announce our plans publicly or risk word getting out until Felicity is out of mourning." Tony managed to inject the pleasant words with a hint of steel. "That is why we have decided not to tell Charles until later."

Her mother nodded, let loose of Tony, and reached out to hug Felicity.

Felicity tolerated the hug. Her mother's emotions were heartfelt as she rubbed Felicity's shoulders. "See there, I knew things would work out for the best," she whispered.

Tony continued his thinly veiled warning. "I shall be around often to be sure that everything is all right and to allow Charles to get to know me. So you and Sir Edmund need not have any worries on that score. I understand you need to get back to the country."

Felicity stared at him, both amazed and resentful. How was it he could sound so firm and not be thought of as a great cad, while she came across as shrewish and spiteful saying the same thing?

On the other hand, admiration aside, they had not agreed to this. What was he about? Did he think he had made a bargain with her?

"I never agreed," she hissed as they descended the stairs to her waiting carriage.

"I know," he answered simply.

"If you think—"

"We'll discuss this later."

If not for Diana waiting on the docks, Felicity should have insisted, but Tony jerked his head in Charles's direction. She had to bite her tongue. They really could not sort this out in front of Charles.

Tony turned his head and stared out the window as they drove through town. Did he think he could force her hand by presenting her with a fait accompli? Could he tell how very tempted she was by that single kiss?

As they exited the carriage at the wharves, Felicity was far too aware of his palm resting against the small of her back. His touch and stance were protection from the jostling of the crowd. With the merest pressure of his fingertips, he guided her through the throngs of people and cargo. And she followed as though they were dancing.

She wanted to hold his arm and steady his hobble as he walked, but she sensed he would resent that and held back. All the time she thought it strange that her onetime fiancé, who had abandoned her so recklessly in her moment of need, was asking the dock men for information, learning where Diana's ship was berthed, playing the role of protector. Did he think she was incapable of finding her way?

"Why the frown, Felicity? We are almost there."

She stopped and swiveled away from his light touch. "What are you doing here? Why are you helping me now?" Her voice was low, and she tried to smooth the frown from her face.

"Because now I can." He faced her squarely, his eyes heavy-lidded. Slowly his gaze dropped from her face and moved down her body and back up again. There were pauses as his inspection hung up on her hips, her chest, her lips.

Heat rose to her face and flowed down her body, flooding the parts that had received special notice. It was the look of a man used to getting his way with women. His meaning was too clear. Because he thought he could expect an affair in return.

She shook her head, not quite certain if she wanted to step forward into his arms or back away. As it was, she only stared at him, almost but not quite shocked. She'd opened that particular door a long time ago. "I will
never
repeat that night, Tony. Never. It was a mistake."

His grip tightened on her elbows, and the searching in his expression faded, replaced by a look she couldn't fathom.

She wanted to yank away, to tell him to stop threatening her hard-won peace. Finally, she had control of her destiny, and he threatened it with the reminder of that perfect night. That there could be more perfect nights, more passion, more heat, more...babies.

His voice was low, with that edgy burr that melted through her resistance, "What happened afterwards might have been a mistake, but that night wasn't."

She turned sharply and rushed toward the ship where Diana was waiting. With Tony limping along behind her, Felicity skirted through the throngs of dockmen, shifting crates, and piles of supplies and goods.