A Lady by Midnight (Spindle Cove #3)(79)
Author: Tessa Dare

“Very well. Then I’ll let my blade do the talking.”

Kate cringed as Evan swung his sword, but Thorne parried the blow capably. They clashed several times in quick succession. The ringing clangs of metal against metal shivered through her bones.

Just as suddenly, they broke apart and retreated, each breathing hard. The ritual of mutual, animalistic circling began again.

“Don’t do this, Samuel,” she pleaded. “He’s only desperate to save the family. It’s his passion. He wants so much to take care of his siblings and for Lark to have—”

Samuel laughed bitterly. “There’s nothing noble in this. Can’t you see he’s had this planned? He’s been maneuvering you into marrying him all along. That’s why he hasn’t let you out of his sight since they arrived in Spindle Cove. He cares, all right. He cares about the money.”

“And you don’t?” Evan stopped circling and leveled his sword at Samuel. “Those American ambitions disappeared rather quickly once you learned of her inheritance. You want her money so badly, you’re willing to drag her name through the gutter to get it.”

“The gutter you left her in.” Holding his blade pointed at Evan’s chest, Thorne looked around the room, from one Gramercy to the next. “I will never believe that no one knew of her. That you could not have found her and saved her years of degradation and misery. You’re either liars or fools.”

“Samuel, look sharp!”

Evan took advantage of his opponent’s distraction and made a slicing blow that caught Samuel’s sword and sent it spiraling away, into the darkest corner of the room. But before Evan could even demand his surrender, Samuel shifted his weight back and made a full-force kick at Evan’s wrist. Evan cried out in pain and dropped his sword. Rather than reach for it, Samuel kicked the weapon out of reach.

Both men were disarmed.

“Oh, thank heaven,” Kate whispered. “Maybe now it will be over.”

Harry shook her head. “You don’t know my brother very well.”

Evan turned to the next suit of armor in the row. This one held not a sword, but a shield and a long, slender javelin. He wrenched both shield and weapon from the pedestal. “Always fancied a go at this.”

Across the hall, Thorne turned to the armored figure’s counterpart and began to do the same.

Once they were identically armed, the men backed toward opposite ends of the hall, as if preparing for a joust.

“There’s no doubt you’re a lady now,” Harriet said to Kate. “They’ve organized a full tournament for your affections.”

“This is ridiculous!” Kate cried. “The midsummer fair was over weeks ago. What’s next, squaring off with crossbows?”

“Don’t give them any more ideas,” Lark whispered.

“On three, Thorne,” Evan called, raising his shield with his left hand and balancing the javelin with his right. He planted his boots firmly in the plush red carpet. “Three . . . two . . .”

“No!” Kate plucked her discarded stockings from the floor and dashed into the center of the hall, waving them like white, streaming banners of surrender. “Stop!”

The men stopped.

Everything stopped. Suddenly, the hall was completely, unearthly quiet. Because from the ballroom, they heard music. Not orchestral music. Just the gentle strains of the pianoforte and a familiar voice, lifted in song.

“Oh,” Kate gasped, recognizing the tune. “It’s Miss Elliott. At last, the brave dear. She’s finally performing for her friends.”

“Mozart,” Evan said, recognizing the aria. “Excellent choice, Kate. It suits her voice very well. Do you attend the opera frequently, Thorne?”

“No,” Samuel replied tightly.

Without taking his eyes from his opponent, Evan spoke to Kate. “Do you see? I will be good for you. I can give you not only the protection you need, but the companionship you deserve. We converse on politics and poetry, play brilliant duets.” He waved his javelin at Thorne. “He might make your blood pound with illicit thrills, but he can’t give you those things.”

Kate slid her gaze to Samuel, worried. She knew Evan’s words poked at his deepest feelings of unworthiness.

“What can you possibly offer her?” Evan demanded, as Miss Elliott’s voice soared to operatic heights. “You’ve no breeding. No education. Not even an honorable trade. You can’t provide her with a home befitting a lady.”

“I know.” Samuel’s expression hardened to that veneer of impenetrable stone.

“You’re beneath her,” Evan said, “in every possible way.”

“I know that, too.”

Don’t agree with him, Kate shouted in her mind. Don’t ever believe it.

Evan sneered. “Then how can you dare to ask for her hand?”

“Because I love her,” Samuel replied in a low, quiet voice. “I have more love and devotion to give that woman than there is gold in England. And I have the manners not to prattle on while her pupil is singing.” He made a menacing thrust with his javelin. “Shut it, or I’ll skewer you.”

After that, every soul in the room remained quiet and still until Miss Elliott sang her last, sweetly pure note. Kate’s chest swelled with pride in her pupil and happiness for her friend.

Best of all, she had hope for the men’s reconciliation.

“Thank you,” she told the men, alternating her gaze from one end of the hall to the other. “I know you understand what that meant to me. How hard Miss Elliott worked.”

She let her arms drop to her sides and retreated to the border of the hall, leaving them to regard one another. Surely now they must comprehend—no matter their differences as men, they both wanted what was best for her.

“Now,” Kate asked, “can we put away Sir Lewis’s artifacts and discuss this like rational people?”

Apparently not.

“One,” Evan said.

The two men rushed at each other and collided in the center of the hall with an ugly crunch. The impact of javelins on shields sent them bouncing back, repulsed by the force of the impact. No one had been seriously hurt—which pleased Kate, but evidently frustrated the men. They threw their javelins aside.

Evan reached for a battle-axe next, but in pulling it down from its wall rack, he misjudged the weight. The horrific weapon crashed to the floor, narrowing missing his foot and sinking two inches into the parquet.