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“I beg your pardon, your Grace, but this man is a roué of the first degree.” Rounding on André personally, he spat, “Unhand my daughter.”

Annemarie stood in the meantime as well, her eyes speaking louder than words.

André bowed formally to the duke and duchess, who knew him well. “My abject apologies, your Graces, I know I am intruding without invitation, but it couldn’t be helped. I am here to claim my betrothed.”

He turned to Trevor. “Sir Mowbray, may I ask you for the honor of your daughter’s hand in marriage? I know I should have made my feelings known sooner. I am perfectly willing to explain my ambiguity in detail in private.”

Trevor opened and shut his mouth like a beached fish, while Annemarie sank to her chair, the picture of stunned surprise. Trying to salvage his pride, he looked at Stormy’s face and saw the love in it.

“If my daughter will have you, I won’t stand in your way. However, be warned. If you ever hurt her in any way, you will have me to deal with.”

André closed the space between him and his future parents-in-law. The men shook hands on the deal, and then he hugged Annemarie. He whispered into her ear, “Now you know why I didn’t choose you in that carriage. I saw my destiny in Stormy’s eyes, but it took me a while to recognize it.”

Annemarie plopped into her chair without grace or care after that stunning admission.

As the duke and duchess started to get up to tender their congratulations, André waved them to remain seated. “Before we continue, I would like to broach a bit of a problem that arose while I looked for Stormy. Let it suffice to say that your son Christopher and I ran afoul of each other. He called me out to a duel.”

Christopher’s mother clutched her chest. Her gaze burned into André’s. “You don’t intend to honor his challenge, I hope?”

André perused his fingernails for a brief moment, then lifted his head to meet her stare.

“Your Grace, I have no choice, and well you know it. It is a matter of honor. I will not leave London marked as a coward. However, I swear I will only draw first blood and leave it at that.”

“No, it can’t take place. Christopher is a superb fencer. He will cut you to ribbons,” she proclaimed fiercely.

André bowed again. “Your Grace, I appreciate the warning, but we will just have to wait and see in that case. I normally would not have made you aware of the situation, but in view that my betrothed is your guest this day, I found it my duty to do so.”

He bowed formally to all present and turned to leave.

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“Wait up, André. Please take me with you.”

He turned to see Stormy run toward him, causing him to smile with pride. When she reached him, he lifted her hand to his lips. “I can’t very well take you with me. I came on Noir.”

“I don’t care. Just take me with you. Noir won’t mind the extra weight.”

“It’s not a matter of weight. It will cause a small scandal if I ride through town with you across my lap.”

She shot him a look that sent sparks of lust through him. “If you don’t worry about your reputation, I won’t worry about mine. The countess of Mercia did not worry about her reputation, when she wanted to prove her point about taxes. At least I am dressed.”

“In that case, let’s be off, madam.” He swept her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a pound of feathers, then rushed off before anyone could stop them.

The minute they were out of eyesight, he kissed her, though he never broke his stride.

“We need to marry as soon as possible. I don’t want to take a bride to wife already enceinte with my child, and you make it impossible to keep away from you,” he muttered into her ear.

It took Trevor several stunned minutes before he came to his senses. He could see that his parents were less than pleased with the course of events. Cutting the duke and duchess a deep bow, he apologized for any inconvenience they may have caused. He didn’t even bother to ask his father if he and his mother were coming, but took Annemarie’s hand and walked out the door, his head held high.

Outside he turned to her. “I guess our tour of England is done. From here on out we’ll be cut dead by the ton. I hope you won’t have any regrets, because we missed the opera, the ballet and so many other soirées.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips.

Annemarie’s eyes held his and she grinned. “I never cared whether the ton cared for us or not, since convention was never our standard. Maybe you should consider this tour of England a success. Stormy found a man worthy of her, and we both know she loves him. You could also see that he loves her.” She leaned close. “Did you know he told me that he fell in love with her the moment he saw her in the carriage? I call that fate.”

“Humph, young fool. Stormy will turn his world upside down.” It amused him, though he didn’t say so. After all, he had been turned inside out by her mother.

They almost reached their carriage, when Annemarie’s hand convulsed around Trevor’s arm. “I just thought about it. What if André decides to stay in England? Oh, my heavens, I don’t think I can stand that idea.”

Trevor stopped, breathing deeply through his nose. “I hadn’t thought of that. But we can’t stand in the way of her happiness.” He clasped her hand and urged her along. “Hurry up, we have a wedding to plan, and by the looks of those two, we had better do it quickly.”

“Do you think it might be time to tell Stormy that she is part noble, part pirate?”

“I leave that to you, dearest. I have never participated in any mother/daughter talks.”

Annemarie lifted her chin. “Neither have I. I guess I’ll manage, but I don’t think the time is right to tell Stormy about her grandmother. Some day she may be proud that she is related to Anne Bonny, but she doesn’t need any added surprises right now.”

André lifted Stormy off Noir once they arrived at the Cormac apartments. They’d attracted more than one gawker on their way here, but both were so oblivious to the world, they never noticed.

As André led her up the steps to the front door, he stopped. Turning her so he could look into her eyes, he said, “I have a confession to make. One night some of my friends forced me to attend a masked ball the Duke and Duchess of Wessex were giving. I met a Spanish dancer ….”

STORMY HEIDE KATROS

156

“And I met a highwayman,” Stormy finished breathlessly. Their eyes collided on a sea of dawning awareness. “I didn’t dare ask. I was afraid of the truth. I rushed off, because I knew I could not survive any more disillusionment. I met my father, who was looking for me, since mother was not feeling well and wanted to go home.”

André exhaled on a whoosh of relief. “I saw you leave. I didn’t know it was you, but I felt something special pass between us. Then when I saw you leaving on the arm of a sea captain, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. I was quite miserable the rest of the night. I wandered through the gardens until the wee hours, because I had come with a friend and he was, ah, otherwise engaged.”

He grinned cheekily down at her. “Let’s drop you off into the safety of your grandparents home before I ravish you right here on these steps.”

Stormy’s eyes went hot with want. She felt the heat pool in her loins and her nipples hardened to small pebbles. “I can’t wait. Is there any way we can meet tonight?”

André shook his head. “Since we announced our betrothal all eyes will be on us. Even though the ton will openly snub us, it won’t mean they aren’t curious. I doubt we’ll find a private moment until the wedding.” Bloody hell, it was a poor excuse, but if he didn’t try to hold her at arm’s length, he would lose control.

Stormy twirled her fingers around the collar of his coat, her tongue tracing a wet path across her lower lip. “What, if we do find a moment?”

André sucked in a pained breath through clenched teeth. “You do know how to toy with a man’s feelings, petite. However, I promise to pay you back in kind.”

He rapped on the door, breaking the enchanted moment on purpose lest he forget himself.

Marry opened the door herself. She looked past them, her expression puzzled, when she saw Noir instead of a carriage. But Marry being Marry and having experienced the urgency of young love herself kept from commenting.

“Come in, come in, André.” Wagging her finger at Stormy she trilled, “This young man was here earlier and asked for you. I told him where to find you.”

Stormy hugged her great-grandmother in a fierce hug. “Thank you, grandmamma. And you should be the first to know that André has asked father for permission to marry me.”

By the time Trevor and Annemarie arrived Marry had ordered tea and scones for André, who had accepted with alacrity. Now that he knew his love for Stormy was secured, he felt ravenous.

Trevor marched into the room, his dark eyes glittering. “If you don’t mind, André, I believe now would be a good time to have that talk.”

“Oh, let the boy have something to eat first,” Marry wheedled.

“In that case, I’ll freshen up and await you in the Cormac’s study in half an hour. Are you coming, Annemarie?”

Annemarie smiled at her husband and shook her head. “No, I think I’ll bask in the glow of young love for a while. I know today’s events will set the ton on its ear. We’ll be the gossip du jour and I don’t care if they call us colonials.”

Half an hour later, fortified with several scones and hot tea, André presented himself in the study. Trevor rose from behind the desk. He waved a hand perfunctorily to a chair, his manner reserved. “Have a seat, André, and we’ll get down to business.”

André crossed an ankle over a long leg after he took a chair. He waited for Trevor to speak.

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157

Trevor, however, felt suddenly tongue-tied. He paced the short distance from window to desk in choppy strides. “I am not sure if I should be glad, or call you out. Why in bloody hell did you take so long before you asked for my daughter’s hand? Didn’t you realize that her reputation was at stake, when you brought her back with you from Liverpool? That would have been the appropriate time, but no, you chased off after Snowden again. Which left me little choice but to abscond with my family to London.”

André let him rave until he was talked out. He straightened in his chair and uncrossed his legs. “I had hoped to find my aunt’s will and lay claim to what is rightfully mine anyway. I don’t need Greenbriar to survive. I have bigger holdings near Paris. And you may rest assured that your daughter will be cared for in the manner she is used to.

“However, when I read the postscript to Aunt Victoria’s will, it shocked me to put it mildly. She knew that her life was in danger. It twisted my heart and all I could think of was to see justice done. I couldn’t return to Emerald Hills, because Snowden arrived home, while I was still in the house. I only got away, because I know the secret passages. He chased us for miles, but Stuart and I outwitted him. The man is still out there. It’s imperative that I find him. As long as he is running free, he constitutes a threat to me and what it mine, and the magistrate says I don’t have enough evidence for them to intervene.”

“What do you plan on doing? You can’t outright murder the man, if the magistrate told you that there is not enough evidence to convict him.”

“Don’t forget that he bragged that he killed Aunt Victoria and our solicitor, when he held me prisoner. I’ll give him a chance to defend himself. I know I can best him in a duel, and it will be a duel to the death.”

Trevor cleared his throat. “Speaking of duels. I know you have to go through with the one young Christopher challenged you to, so I volunteer to be your second.”

André inclined his head. The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his generous mouth.

“Thank you, sir. Trust me, I didn’t see that coming. I thought the matter was settled once I punched him and he punched me back. But the fool spit on my boots.”

Trevor didn’t comment on the triviality of the offense. Duels were fought for less important reasons. “Where will I meet you?”

“I will come by with my carriage before dawn. We are to meet in an oak grove everyone knows as dueling grounds. I chose sabers, so I can wound him without killing him. I intend to win that duel.”

STORMY HEIDE KATROS

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Fog still shrouded the street, when André’s carriage, drawn by two black horses, arrived promptly at five in the morning in front of the Cormac apartments. He’d driven himself and got out in deference to Trevor, his top hat clamped firmly under his arm. His grim expression mirrored his mood. Dressed much like Trevor in somber black trousers and tailed morning coat, he ushered him into the carriage and then took his seat next to him.

“I thoroughly detest this whole duel thing, but I aim to have it over before the sun comes up. I brought some bandages, in case Salisbury didn’t bring a sawbones. It would be his responsibility, since he issued the challenge.”

“You never did elaborate why you came to blows with him. He must have been in quite a snit, if he spat on your boots.”

André snorted. “The less said the better, sir. But Stormy is mine.”

Trevor’s eyebrows rose a fraction, but he decided that silence might be golden after all, and chose to find something interesting to watch out the window.

Christopher Salisbury’s carriage was already waiting at the far side of the oak grove. He hopped out the moment André arrived, his attitude one of superiority. He strode toward André, his second in tow. They exchanged a modicum of courtesy before the second extended a pair of sabers for André’s inspection. André lifted the one closest to him and hefted it in his grip, then nodded his satisfaction with the weapon.

The two adversaries shed their top coats and walked toward the clearing dressed only in trousers and snowy shirts. Facing each other, they saluted with their sabers held upward against their foreheads. André made a quick mental note that the trees were dripping with dew. The ground would be damp and slippery.

BOOK: SHK
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