Page 80 of Her Rake Fiancé

“Blackmore,” said Preston, standing slightly between Richard and Thorne. “Is there truly no way to resolve this in peace?”

“Pick up the pistol, sir,” said Thorne tightly.

The distant determination in Thorne’s eyes turned into icy rage.

Richard nodded. “I will. But know I have no intention to kill the brother of the woman I love.”

Thorne spat out a terrible, vulgar oath. The twin dressed in black behind him raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“You may kill me,” said Richard. “You may wound me. But I love Jane, and if I come out of this alive, I will fight for her. I will court her. I will woo her. I’ll make it my life’s mission to make her the happiest woman alive.”

Thorne gave out a low growl. “Sweet words, my lord, but they mean nothing. You already proved your worth by your actions. You gave me your word of honor and broke it, playing with my sister’s emotions.” He looked at Brace Sterling. “We’re ready.”

Sterling nodded and looked at Richard. “Sir, please pick up your pistol.”

With a heavy stomach, Richard nodded and picked up the pistol, its wooden handle smooth and cold in his palm and its body sinking heavily into his hand.

“Stand with your backs to each other,” said Sterling. “And when I say ‘walk,’ walk twenty steps in opposite directions.”

Richard held his pistol up close to his chest, feeling Blackmore’s back pressing against his. The wind ruffled his hair on his forehead and brought the scent of leaves and flowers and the nearby river.

Distantly, he heard splashing and the barking of a dog. But he didn’t give it a second thought. All his concentration was on the heavy pistol in his hand.

He wouldn’t shoot at Thorne. He wouldn’t be the man to kill Jane’s only remaining family. He’d shoot straight up and let Thorne decide what he wanted to do. Let this be on the man’s conscience.

“Walk!” cried Sterling.

Richard walked, counting his steps.

35

“Stop!” Jane’s voice echoed. “Halt!”

The figures on the far side of the river were just within her sight. Thorne, clutching his pistol, exchanged words with Richard. At Jane’s side, Hercules whimpered, his ears perked, eyes locked on Thorne. His tail twitched with excitement as he paced uneasily beside her. They had found themselves marooned on a small river spit.

The area bore the unmistakable signs of frequent flooding—trees sprouted from the river itself, some even a good distance from the bank.

Jane grappled with the mystery of how she found herself here, on this side of the river. She had “borrowed” a gig from Thorne’s stable, her initial plan being to head towards Hampstead Heath. She hadn’t, however, considered the size of the heath, or the numerous rivulets that crisscrossed it, ultimately forcing her to abandon the gig and tread the remainder of the way on foot. The area was marshy, a wild tangle of undergrowth she’d had to navigate.

And now, here she was, all too aware that she may be too late.

“Stop!” she cried again.

Her voice might not carry across the two hundred feet of water that separated them. The wind, though, was her ally, wafting fragments of their conversation her way. She could make out Richard and Thorne, but they were oblivious to her calls. Brace, Morgan, and Tristan were visible, too, along with Preston and Sebastian.

She had to cross the river, intervene, stop them.

As Richard gripped his pistol tighter, Jane stepped into the murky, reedy water. “No!” she protested.

In a near mimicry of her, Hercules barked loudly, plunging fearlessly into the water, his little head bobbing above the surface as he paddled towards the other shore.

“Damnation!” Jane exclaimed. “Blast!”

As if in response to her call, Brace commanded, “Walk!”

Her brother and Richard paced away in opposite directions, their steps mirroring each other in rhythm.

That was when Jane knew she had to make a move. Despite not having swum in a while, she knew Thorne’s swimming lessons from their summers in Rosewood would serve her well. She plunged into the river, the icy grasp of the water crawling up her legs, her dress growing heavy. Then, she was swimming, pushing through the water with sheer determination.