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he said, grinning beneath his fair moustache. ‘Finished gambling a bit early. Pleasant night, I assume?’ His glance shifted to Ellie and he bowed unsteadily. ‘Lady Eleanor.’

      Her stomach dropped away in a rush. Once more, impetuosity had led her to ruin and this time she’d well and truly stepped over the brink.

      She lifted her chin. ‘Lord Goring.’

       Chapter Eleven

      What had she done? Alone in the carriage, Eleanor wanted to bang her head against a wall or throw herself beneath the rumbling wheels. Years she’d spent making sure not a breath of scandal besmirched her name. And now this.

      Impetuosity.

      It had got her into trouble in her youth and here she was again, acting without thinking. Only this time her reputation would never recover. A little hot rush of something naughty sang in her veins. Since she was ruined, why not go the whole hog and finish out her bargain with Garrick? The mere idea of it made her feel hot and breathless.

      Oh, yes, and ruin Sissy’s chances of making a good marriage. She couldn’t do it. She’d have to retire to the country in disgrace. She struck the cushioned seat with her fist. Idiot.

      After swearing she’d never do anything rash again, here she was, a fallen woman. And it was all her own doing.

      When the carriage pulled up to her front door, Garrick helped her down and escorted her up the steps without a word. She scrabbled in her reticule for the key.

      ‘What the devil!’ William’s voice from behind her.

      Heart tripping, Eleanor whirled around. Garrick’s hand gripped her elbow, whether for support or to stop her from fleeing she couldn’t be sure.

      William bounded out of a hackney carriage wearing a scarlet uniform. Open-mouthed, shocked, confused, Eleanor watched him toss a handful of coins at the driver and limp across the footpath to stand at the bottom of the steps.

      He glared up at Garrick. ‘You bastard.’ His voice sounded choked.

      ‘I believe my lineage is as impeccable as yours.’ Garrick moved closer to her as William’s scowl deepened.

      ‘Len, for God’s sake, get inside before someone sees you.’

      ‘It’s too late,’ she said, surprised how calm she sounded, how matter of fact, in the face of his rage.

      Garrick’s eyebrows shot up. He looked startled, even a little impressed. Had he expected her to lie?

      William turned to Garrick. ‘You’ll meet me for this. In an hour in Green Park. It’s all the time I have before I leave.’

      Dread curdled her stomach. ‘William, why are you in uniform?’

      His lip curled. ‘Because my country needs all the help she can get with traitors like this in our midst.’

      ‘William, you can’t. You have duties, responsibilities.’

      His cheeks flamed. ‘So do you, but you don’t let them stop you.’ He swung back to Garrick, his hand on his sabre hilt. ‘Name your seconds, sir, or be named for a coward.’

      Garrick looked down his nose. ‘You’ve waited a long time for this, haven’t you, Castlefield? It’s true what they say, then—revenge is best served cold.’

      Eleanor grabbed her brother’s arm. ‘William, no! I went with him willingly.’

      ‘Damn it, Len. Why?’

      Garrick’s smiled, cruel, taunting. ‘Because she wanted some fun for a change.’

      William lunged at him, fists flying. Garrick blocked his wild blows, captured his wrist.

      Eleanor wormed her way between them.

      ‘Stop it! It’s bad enough that you might be killed by the French, but to risk death in a duel is nonsense. I have no virtue to defend.’

      ‘A man who sends a woman to fight his battles is unlikely to fall victim to a French bullet,’ Garrick said, releasing William’s hand and stepping back.

      William’s face drained of colour. ‘A traitor like you is more likely to shoot a man in the back.’

      Eleanor had the hysterical urge to laugh. They were like male dogs, stiff-legged, hackles raised, circling each other. The two men that she loved most in the world hated each other.

      William pushed her towards the door. ‘You and Sissy are going home. Go inside and pack. I’ll decide what to do when I return, but believe me, if this gets out, you will never again be accepted by the ton. Let us hope your behaviour hasn’t ruined Sissy. As for you, you cur, damned well name your seconds.’

      ‘It will be my pleasure,’ Garrick said with a feral smile.

      ‘No!’ She clutched at William. ‘I will not allow you to fight a duel over me.’

      Garrick looked down at her, a glimmer of something strange in his eyes—yearning, or devilment? ‘If you want to put a stop to this, marry me.’

      She gaped at him.

      ‘You will never come near this family again if you marry this murdering, traitorous cur,’ William said.

      Garrick stood silent, his face a mask.

      William looked equally grim.

      The painful truth kicked her in the stomach like a flying hoof, sending her heart into a runaway gallop. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. This was her last chance.

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I will.’

      Face blank, Garrick stared at her. She’d called his bluff. He hadn’t meant it. He was posturing, taunting William.

      ‘Len.’ William’s voice was hoarse. ‘Don’t make it any worse, for God’s sake.’

      ‘I think it’s best, William.’

      He turned his back. ‘Go, then, and be damned to the pair of you.’

      ‘Garrick wants Piggot’s letter,’ she said.

      His shoulders shook, but he did not turn around. ‘He can go to hell.’

      ‘Let me say goodbye to Sissy, then.’

      ‘Leave, Eleanor. Now.’

      Eleanor stumbled down the steps, held up by Garrick’s strong arm.

      ‘Ellie, don’t let him see you cry,’ he whispered fiercely in her ear. She pulled herself upright and held her head high.

      ‘That’s my brave Lady Moonlight,’ he said softly as he handed her back into his coach.

      Beside Garrick, in front of the altar of St Mary’s in the City of London, Eleanor’s heart seemed determined to make a quick escape. Was it fear or joy making it beat so hard? Perhaps both. Behind them stood Lieutenant Dan Smith, Joshua Nidd and Johnson the coachman, and rows of empty pews. Eleanor wore the gown she’d worn the previous evening.

      The vicar perused the special licence. ‘Everything seems in order.’

      The sound of the church door opening interrupted the hushed solemnity. Garrick signalled impatiently for the man to go on, but Dan held up a restraining hand. Boot heels echoing, the young officer walked back to greet the latecomer.

      Curious, Eleanor turned. A slight figure in a peach gown and green spencer hurried up the aisle on the Lieutenant’s arm.

      ‘Cecilia?’

      ‘What the deuce?’ Garrick said, looking beyond her, as if expecting someone else.

      Cecilia brushed a dark curl off her shoulder. ‘William forbade me to come. I left as soon as he

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