Pistols at Dawn Read Online Free Page B

correct in thinking your sister's assailant was a member of my household." He took Lucien by the arm and forced him forward. "My nephew is here to—"
    The young lady, on the other hand, made no effort to disguise her fury. Yet again, a violent outburst interrupted his explanation. "You presume to bring that mongrel, that beast , anywhere near my sister?" She pointed at Lucien, who flinched as though he had been skewered with steel. "After what he has done!"
    "I-I..." Lucien tried to speak but all that came out was a croak.
    "He is extremely sorry for what happened," intervened the earl. "Apparently he had consumed a great deal of spirits and was lost to all sense of reason." The young lady was making it extremely difficult to maintain a measured tone.
    Bloody hell, did she think he was any more pleased with the situation than she was?
    "That, of course, is no excuse for his actions," he went on. "But he is prepared to do the honorable thing and make amends for his conduct. I have procured a special license. Your sister may be properly wed before nightfall."
    The young lady stared with withering scorn at the document, then slowly raised her eyes to meet his. "Are you mad ? Do you really think my sister would consider for an instant legshackling herself to such a filthy miscreant as your nephew?"
    She turned back to Lucien, a sneer thinning her mouth as she eyed his bruises. "Honorable, you say? Oh, yes, I can see just how eager he was to do the honorable thing." Her hands clenched. "Perhaps you, too, are completely jug bitten. I can't think of how else to explain why you might imagine such an offer would be of any interest to us."
    "You are overset at this moment," began Marcus.
    "Overset?" she repeated with marked sarcasm. "My sister has just been assaulted! Overset doesn't begin to describe what I am feeling at this moment."
    Gritting his teeth, Marcus managed to ignore the repeated insults, though the effort was costing him dearly. "I would counsel you to think long and hard before rejecting the proposal. My nephew is from an excellent family, and as of now, he stands heir to an earldom. Not only that, he shall come into a tidy inheritance of his own on reaching his majority. A great many Mamas of the ton would consider him an excellent catch." He darted a pointed look at the modest furnishings. "All in all, I don't imagine that a country rector's daughter could hope to look any higher."
    "Higher?" scoffed the young lady. "As far as I can see, we would have to dig in the deepest, foulest muck to find a creature as loathsome your slimy relative." She gave a protective squeeze to her sister's shoulder, who had finally summoned enough courage to raise her gaze from the floor.
    Hell and damnation. Muttering an oath under his breath, Marcus could not refrain from taking the offensive. "Have you given any thought to the possible consequences?" he said harshly. "Your sister may find herself with..."
    The girl flinched.
    He stopped abruptly, angry with himself for allowing his antagonist to goad him into such bluntness. Despite what she seemed to think, the last thing he wished to do was add to her sister's suffering.
    "Forgive me. I suggest that we continue this discussion in private, Miss..."
    "Kirtland." The young lady finally consented to confirm her identity. "Elizabeth Kirtland."
    "I fear there is no way to avoid plain speaking. And such things will no doubt prove too upsetting for your sister's ears."
    Eliza hesitated, then gave a curt nod. "Mama is waiting for her tisane, Merry. Might you manage to take it up to her by yourself?"
    Meredith Kirtland spoke for the first time, softly but firmly. "Nay, Eliza. I understand your concern, but it is my wish—and indeed my right—to stay and hear what is being said."
    Eliza looked torn between the sense of her sister's words and the desire to shield her from more pain. It took another whispered exchange before she relented. With a brusque wave of her hand, she signaled for Marcus