Page 118 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
For her part, Tabby had given up attempting to drag him out of the room, and she simply looked on in horror. He’d really need to feed her properly once their inquiries were complete; she must be starving to be looking about like that.
“And that, Lord Netherwallop, is precisely the problem,” said the major with a strange light in his eyes. “Was a mere ‘major’ or ‘mister’ insufficient for breeding? Did you not consider us worthy of your stud services, unlike the captain and the colonel?”
Never let it be said that Dick Stone was an intellectual sort of man. His fashion sense was limited by his purse, his frame and cock were good but not astonishing, and his stories went on longer than warranted.
But he wasn’t completely stupid.
“You mean to tell me you’re insulted becauseI did notinterfere with your wife?”
“Insulted is a fine way to put it,” said the major, spittle flying as he unleashed his spleen. “Your aristocratic predilections prevented my wife and me from achieving happiness at last, even as you spread your seed indiscriminately to other families.”
“I am most sorry,” said Edward. “I mean to cease my breeding activities, but I’m certain you can find another stud to service the lady and complete your family.”
Tabby cast Edward a look of confusion, and he was tempted to haul her off for that afternoon tea followed by a solid rogering, demme these Camvilles.
“You suggest that while taunting us with these notes passed to our friends,” said the major, holding up Tabby’s missive. “Afterdenying my wife her due disrespect in Portugal. It’s too much to bear, far too much, sirrah!”
Edward sighed and put a hand on the buttons at his falls. “If it’s such a cause of consternation, I suppose I can undertake a breeding, provided my…Tabby agrees.”
Tabby’s eyes went wide, and she nodded no slowly, as if trying to tell Edward something without words.
“My wife has gone through the change while you were sticking your cock in every other woman in the kingdom!” roared the major. “Every otheraristocraticwoman! Is she not sufficiently beautiful to tempt you?”
“I can assure you, had your mother-in-law not been—”
“Edward!” rasped Tabby, clawing at his coat now, and pulling him along despite her much shorter stature.
“You’re not getting away this time, Dick Stone,” growled the major. Edward looked away from Tabby for just a moment to see what the man was on about and had to look back at him immediately.
In his hand, he had a dueling pistol rather like the one that sat on Edward’s father’s desk. He suspected this one was made after the Stuart era and kept in good repair. Demme and blast.
Edward felt as if something had knocked him from a boat, and he was now falling through water. His ears didn’t quite work, and his vision blurred. The last time this had happened, he’d been in battle — with Tencendor nearly cut from under him.
“This time?” interjected Tabby, advancing on the major. “So it wasyou? You put forth the false treason rumors?”
“You’re nothing but an aristocratic little miss,” hurled the major. “You wouldn’t know the insult he’s offered my family.”
“You’re wrong,” she hissed, kicking off her delicate slippers. “And you don’t seem to understand the insult you’ve offeredmy family.”
At that, Tabby yanked the wig from her hair, sending pins across the thickly carpeted floor. The mass of hair thumped against the screen behind which they’d meant to hide. And then she raced to the desk, right into the maws of danger.
Edward’s brain decided to work again while watching his love race towards a cocked pistol. Towards a loaded gun — to defend him.
“Not for king and country, but I’d charge for love!” he cried, launching himself in front of Tabby just as the major fired the gun at her.
At first, Edward was stunned as he hit the floor, the thick pile providing a surprisingly soft place to land.
And then he felt a pain in his chest. His breaths came fast and shallow, and he refused to look down at what he feared was a hole.
The sight of Tabby swam over him. She cradled his face with one hand and touched his body with the other, seemingly also scared to look at what must be a terrible wound.
“I suppose the old king was right about us,” said Edward, feeling faint.
“What’s that?”
“No heart.”
Edward huffed a laugh before a fit of coughing reminded him that this was no time for jokes about family lore.
