Laurel Ames - Playing To Win

www.millsandboon.co.uk

I owe many thanks to Mr. Edward W. Eckman and Dr. John P. Sokol for valuable research material and expert advice.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

A low fog crept across the clearing, shrouding both men and horses from the knees down. The jingle of harness, and a snort, seemed overloud in the dark stillness. Tony Cairnbrooke’s seconds conferred with Lord Vonne’s men over the pistols. The horses steamed gently. It was damp and cold for this time of year.

“He’s agreed to twenty paces, Tony. One shot each.” Tony’s cousin Winwood looked serious for once.

“Is it light enough yet?” Tony asked numbly, his only concern at this point to get the affair over with. Dueling was so stupid.

“Give it another few minutes,” said Win, scanning the eastern horizon.

“What did Vonne say when you conveyed my apologies to him?” Tony asked tiredly.

“Tony, you made love to his wife. You can’t just apologize and expect that to be an end to it.”

“I know,” said Tony, shaking his head, “but I was drunk— Drunk! I must have been insane.” The only hatless man present, Tony ran an impatient hand through his damp brown hair.

“You can best Vonne. I’ve seen you shoot. You are sober now, aren’t you?” Winwood asked, in some concern.

“Very!”

Winwood left Tony alone and went to talk in whispers to the few other men clustered under the dripping trees. The rain had stopped, and Tony thought that once the fog lifted it might be a fine day...for someone else. It was amazing how fast the sky lightened, and one could say it was now daylight, rather than night, even without a sunrise.

Lord Vonne paced idly, as though this were an everyday matter to him. Indeed, it nearly was. He had fought three other men in the short time he had been married to Madeleine. His black goatee and mustache looked particularly sinister in the dim light.

Vonne caught Tony looking at him, and nodded in a businesslike way. Tony went to stand back-to-back with him. The count went quickly as the two men strode away from each other. But Tony needed no time to decide what to do. He had considered it all night.

When it was time, he turned, brought the pistol up deliberately beside his head and fired into the air. He was, after all, in the wrong.

Vonne waited, as though he had half expected this. He slowly took aim and fired. Tony did no more than sway for a moment, as though he had lost his footing. There was something warm below his collarbone. Strange that it should feel only as though someone had run into him. It was not what he had been expecting. There was an unpleasant roaring in his ears that would have blotted out all talk, if there had been any. Then he couldn’t see.

They all stood motionless, watching him. It seemed a long time. When he tried to take a step, he went down on his knees.

“He’s hit!” yelled Winwood, and ran to catch Tony as he fell forward.

* * *

The sun was streaming into the Barclay drawing room after a night of rain and morning of dreary clouds.

“I hear that young Cairnbrooke has been shot,” Lady Jane Stanley said to her young protégée Serafina Barclay.

“What a pity. I hope he survives,” said Sera, turning her attention from the sunshine to Lady Jane.

Her hazel eyes were quite lovely, Lady Jane thought. The child’s nose could be straighter, but she had a good figure and lovely hair, a delicate brown touched with auburn. All things considered, the nose was not all that noticeable.

“Why are you staring at me?” Sera asked, laughing at her older friend’s myopic regard. Lady Jane always reminded Sera of an inquisitive bird, especially because of the way the ringlets of hair danced above her ears when she cocked her head.

“You know him?”

“I’ve met him...at an assembly. He hardly gave me a second glance, of course. He had eyes only for Lady Vonne.”

“But, my dear, that is the woman he was shot over.”

“She seems such a cruel woman. You would think men would be smart enough to see through her. If she has a dozen lovers, she can’t possibly care about all of them.”

“Men may be smart where money is concerned and quite dense in other matters.” Lady Jane clapped her teacup down in its saucer decisively, causing Sera to look up in inquiry.

“One really feels for such a misguided boy.”

“He’s not a boy. He should have known better,” Sera said.

“Men do lose their heads sometimes, but I imagine Vonne’s bullet has driven all thoughts of Lady Vonne from Cairnbrooke’s head.”

“Will Vonne be prosecuted?” Sera asked as she tried to shake the mental image of Tony Cairnbrooke meeting with a bullet.

“I suppose that is what he is waiting about to find out. He’s sent his wife out of town, though. No one knows where.”

Sera chuckled. “How do you find out all this gossip?”

“I have a great many friends, dear, and I pay many calls. I am invited everywhere. That is why your father enlisted my aid in bringing you into the ton.”

“Yes, I know,” said Sera, with a sigh and a raised eyebrow. “Vonne is a victim, too, then.”

“What did you think of him?”

“Vonne? I’ve only seen him—”

“No, silly, young Cairnbrooke,” Lady Jane said impatiently.

“He’s handsome enough, with the most compelling blue eyes. Although last time I saw him—at the theater—he looked almost...tortured.”

“I suspect that is over losing his brother. At least that is what his mother says.”

“Belgium?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know. Are you one of her intimates? Please convey my sympathies.”

“Would you like to call on her with me, tomorrow?”

“They can scarcely want morning callers,” Sera reasoned, “with one son dead and the other...perhaps— What are you up to?” demanded Sera, suddenly suspicious. “You are plotting something. I can always tell.”

“Perhaps a call would seem a bit forward,” Lady Jane mused as she paced the floor, back and forth, in and out of the bars of sunlight, until she had Sera entranced. “But to invite them here to dine would be perfectly acceptable.”

“Who?” Sera demanded, snapping back to attention.

“The Cairnbrookes, of course, and Anthony. Haven’t you been listening?”

“Ah, I see. Another victim.”

“A prospective husband should not be referred to by a young lady past twenty as a victim.”

“I recommend you not make any plans yet,” said Sera, putting down her cup.

“Why not? You are not averse to him?”

“You don’t even know if the poor fellow will survive.”

“There is no reason to be so cold-blooded about it.”

“I’m a realist, Lady Jane. Besides, if this Anthony has so lately been enthralled enough with Lady Vonne as to die for her love, he is hardly likely to express an interest in me, no matter how much money Father has.”

“Don’t be so mercenary. It won’t be a question of money, in his case.”

Sera shrugged and poured herself more tea. The daughter of a banker, Sera was rather thick-skinned when it came to men. She had been courted so often these past three years for her father’s fortune, she had ceased to place much faith in any men, except those, such as her father’s friends, who were too old for her.