Page 4 of Betting on a Duke
Samuel took the stairs two at a time to his chambers and packed a bag with two changes of clothes. He rushed out to the stables and saddled his horse, Smokey, and another for Clarice with help from a stablehand. He considered taking the coach, but if Portsmouth pursued, they could move faster on horseback. After stashing his belongings in his saddlebag, he headed out with Clarice’s horse tethered to his.
Dawson House was cloaked in darkness when he arrived at the servants’ entrance. Although he didn’t expect any trouble, he kept a loaded pistol in his overcoat pocket. He turned the doorknob and frowned when it didn’t budge. Most servants’ doors were unlocked even at night.
“I knew you’d come for her.” The unmistakable sound of a pistol cocking sent a chill up his spine.
Samuel didn’t need to turn around and look at the person whospoke. He recognized the voice—it belonged to Clarice’s father. He pivoted anyway, and not far off, he saw the earl holding a gas lantern in one hand and a pistol in the other. Two footmen flanked him. “You need to leave and never come back.”
Despite the pistol aimed at him, he declared his intentions. “I’ve come for Lady Clarice. She has agreed to marry me, and I plan to make sure it happens with or without your blessing.”
“No blessing, and over my dead body.”
Samuel reached for his revolver, but before he could grab it, Portsmouth fired, releasing sulfur, gunpowder, and smoke that clogged his nostrils and caused pain to shoot through his upper arm. “What the hell?”
“If you ever try to contact my daughter again, the next bullet goes between your eyes.” As he walked away, he spat to his footmen, “See that the earl arrives home safely.”
Samuel couldn’t believe his father’s best friend—until today—and a man he’d known since birth, had just shot him. He used his good arm and took out his handkerchief and pressed it to the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. One of the footmen approached and examined the wound.
“Yer lucky. The bullet went straight through.”
The ride back to Stanton Hall felt like the longest hour of Samuel’s life. Not just because of his wound, but because of the gaping hole in his heart. He wondered if that hole would ever heal, or if he would always be missing a piece of his heart, no matter what the future held.
