Chapter 75

Kendall slid his gaze along the barrel of a gun, beaded with drops of rain. Christ Almighty, what the hell was going on here? He actually didn't want to think what might be. Not since electric currents had passed down the backs of his legs after his buttocks had brushed ... what exactly? As for the business with the gun, his mouth had hung open as it had not in years.
He had never found other men attractive. Ever. Twice now, in the space of two days, he had found himself unnerved by this one. Babs could not have left him in such a bad way.
Unless?
He tightened his finger on the trigger and focused his gaze on the exact spot he was going to hit, the spot he had the right to hit. Damn it all to hell. Never mind facing a murder charge for a boot-wrecking nincompoop, what if this wasn't a boy?
He tilted his chin. A woman at a man's chess tournament though? She'd be arrested for fraud.
No.
He cocked his eyebrow. He had a clear shot, and he must take it. Now.
This damned jackanapes had made him look a complete fool, and not content with that, had proceeded to almost shoot off his toe. Indeed, the shot could have taken off anything.
A woman might very well fire off a shot like that, though. A complete bamboozler that might take a better shot down by chance. Yesterday's visitor and this cousin had the same hair coloring, the same disconcerting habit of talking as if he was an idiot. They required patience to deal with too. Then there was the matter of the scent.
One more sadness at the bottom of a glass.
He had never shot a woman. What kind of man would?
Oh, for God's sake, if the shirt outlined soft, swelling breasts, he'd stop, stop right now, stride from this field, and let this go.
It didn't. What other choice did he have?
He narrowed his gaze, fully cocked the pistol, and taking a deep breath, squeezed the trigger.
Splendor hesitated in the dark of Mrs. Hanney's half landing. She'd sooner remove her eye teeth and distribute them among the deserving poor on a silver platter than hear her footsteps echo all the way to the bottom of the uncarpeted stairs. Not only did she not possess a pair of pliers-never mind the silver platter-if that Stillmore skunk had pulled the bell rope ten minutes ago, she wouldn't be wearing the gown she'd got for a snip at Madame Renare's because no one liked the quilted sleeves.
It was all the proof she needed that that carriage, rumbling along at a discreet distance behind her all the way home from the tournament, was his. He may have spared her earlier. Obviously it was the limit of his graciousness. Now he meant to catch her red-handed, as herself.
She had to go down these stairs. Mrs. Hanney had a nose the size of the Tower of London. Already Splendor sensed the woman wasn't satisfied with the story that Nathan was her brother, Topaz, her sister, Gabe her visiting clergyman, herself a lady who had fallen on hard times, as if she smelled the fact that two members of Starkadder's gang had rooms on her first floor. If she now got wind of Splendor and the chess tournament, Splendor's next room would be in Newgate and not on the first floor either.
She grasped the banister. Papa had been a great one for standing his ground beneath tables and window ledges while the bailiffs hammered on their door. Never bolt till the lock is sprung was his motto. Look at how things had turned around for her this morning. Maybe they would again?
The one saving grace when veils were not an option and Stillmore meant to catch her red-handed? Last week someone had thrown a brick through the fanlight, and the planking Mrs. Hanney had nailed up meant Splendor could face the earl without fear of him seeing her face. The hallway was almost in total darkness. As it was, as she glided down the last few steps, she could barely discern him seated on the spindle chair outside the sitting room door, so why should he discern how closely she resembled Nathan?
Even better?She was used to not seeing the nose in front of her face with these spectacles.Just the same she advanced slowly in case she fell headfirst over a chair.
"Your Grace. What an honor."
Horror was the word her tongue hovered over. If she'd nothing to hide she'd surely offer him her hand to kiss? After what had happened when her shoulders brushed his back this morning, it seemed politic to keep her hand fisted in her skirts, though. After all, he wasn't unhandsome.
Despite the gloom, she could see Mrs. Hanney standing like a frog-footed statue across the passageway to the back hall. It was vital Splendor get him somewhere private. The sitting room was never lit either. Mrs. Hanney spent the money on gin. Splendor cleared her throat.
"Would you ... Would you care for ... for some tea?"
"Tea?"
The chair creaked as he shot to his immaculately booted, until she'd singed them earlier, feet. Surely he didn't think she was about to offer him something else? Like? Like drink, for instance? Her thoat dried but she went on.
"Yes. Tea, Your Grace. Please don't sound so surprised. However it may seem and whatever may be more to your taste, we have nothing stronger here," she lied. With Mrs. Hanney standing there too.
Before she could stop him, he didn't just reach for her hand, he dragged it to his lips, almost yanking her off her feet.
"Let's just dispense with all the damned formalities, shall we? Hmm?"
Her heart lurched. Despite all her pains, he knew. It was why he'd shot a tree trunk this morning at the very last, and with such cool deliberation, it had taken every ounce of her self-determination not to faint among the crows cawing overhead. Now he deliberately pulled her close in order to tell her that if she didn't withdraw from the tournament, he'd set the law upon her. For that matter, there might even be men waiting outside ready to drag her before the magistrates. She could tell them about the illegal duel, but they'd probably pat him on the back. He was an English earl, a species so powerful they squashed women like her as easily as flies, and she, like a damn fool, had just taken her guard down. What on earth did she want to go thinking he wasn't unhandsome for? He was an odious toad who just happened to be more handsome than other odious toads. Where were her feelings for Gabe? The light who lived across the way? Well?