A Most Unsuitable Earl (Regency Collection Book 3) (7 page)

When Ethan was in the fencing clothes
, he returned to Catherine’s father who was wiping down the smallswords.  Since her father’s back was turned to him, Ethan cleared his throat so he’d know he was ready.  For a moment, her father gave no indication that he heard him.  He just kept on cleaning the blades, a process that was beginning to worry Ethan.  Was it his imagination or was her father enjoying those blades a little too much?

In one swift motion, her father spun around, and Ethan couldn’t help but notice that the smallswords were pointed at his nose.
  Ethan narrowed his eyes and saw how sharp the ends were.  All right.  So maybe this wasn’t merely a sport.  Maybe His Grace had a nefarious reason for inviting him over for a game of fencing.

Her father lowered the smallswords and handed one to Ethan.  “You’ll find your mask over there.”

As much as Ethan wanted to go right back to the small room, change into his clothes and hurry out of the townhouse, he knew he had to stay there and play the game her father wanted.  Swallowing the lump in his throat, he went to the bench and picked up the mask.  With a glance at the other gentleman who was putting his mask on, he followed suit and did the same. 
He took a deep breath, assured that there wasn’t anything His Grace had put in the mask to suffocate him.  Sure, her father didn’t strike him as the type t
o murder someone, but
desperate men did desperate things
.  Maybe this was the very thing that would make him do the unthinkable.

Gripping the smallsword in his hand, Ethan ventured, “Your Grace, I don’t mean to put a damper on what’s about to transpire, but I just want to say I’m relieved they now forbid duels.”

Her father paused and after a long moment of silence, he said, “I don’t recall mentioning a duel.  Did I mention a duel, Lord Edon?”

Gulping, he shook his head.  “No.”

“I think it’s odd that you mention it.”

“Oh, well, I,” he cleared his throat, “I was making conversation.” He let out a weak laugh.  “Just for something to say.  That’s all.”

“Hmm…  In that case, I think it’s a shame that someone can’t
sign a young
gentle
man up to be a sold
ier so he can stop Napoleon
.”

“I understand.” Ethan knew that was exactly what her father would do if he could.

Her father moved to the center of the room and
lifted his smallsword.  “Are you ready?”

Ethan had the feeling that her father wasn’t going to make the game easy on him, and he was right.  His Grace was an expert fencer, and he made no hesitation of showing off his skills.  Ethan had to struggle to keep up with his fast pac
e.  A few times he slipped and almost got jabbed by the smallsword. 
He managed to recover from his blunders and thought he was doing well in holding his own until it occurred to him that her father was purposely
letting him think he was an adequate
competitor.
As much as Ethan tried to take an offensive stance, he only found himself stuck taking defensive measures.

“There may be a law against duels, as you pointed out, but I’m afraid accidents happen while fencing, despite the protective gear,” His G
race said, barely out of breath
.

Gasping for air
,
Ethan
managed to ask,
“But there are no defects in your fencing clothing
, are there
?”

“I hope not.”

He made a move to strike his chest, but Ethan managed to block his smallsword.

“
I brought up Catherine to be a lady,” the Duke said, taking another offensive maneuver which Ethan barely stopped.

“I’m aware of that, Your Grace.”

“Are you?” He stepped forward and lunged at him.

“Yes.” Ethan stumbled in an effort to
avoid him and ended up falling on his back.

H
er father
pointed his
smallsword at the base of Ethan’s
throat
before he could get up
.
“I don’t know what kind of perversions you’r
e used to, and quite frankly,
I don
’t want to know
.  B
ut
we’re going to get one thing clear.  Y
ou’ll be gentle with my daughter.
That means in and out of bed.  I can’t stop you from doing the
disg
usting things you do
when you’re not with her
, but I require you to be disc
rete.  If I catch one more item of gossip
about you in the
Tittletattle
, you’ll answer to me.  If you so much as treat my daughter the way you treat
one of your whores
, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born
.
  From this moment forward, you will be a gentleman in every sense of the word.
Do you understand?”

Gulping, Ethan nodded, praying that this whole ordeal was over.

The duke removed the smallsword from his throat and
motioned for him to stand up.  “This game is over.  You may rise to your feet like a gentleman.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he obeyed, making sure there was enough distance between them
so he wouldn’t be on the receiving end of the smallsword again
.

“I’ll let you change back into your clothes, but
don’t forget that I’m watching everything you’re doing.”

Ethan headed toward the small room where the valet waited to help him change clothes, and as much as he struggled to keep a casual pace, he found himself hurrying for the door.  By the time he was out of the duke’s viewing range, he breathed a sigh of relief and removed his mask.  He wiped the sweat from his forehead, convinced that some of the perspiration was a result of the duke’s words.

“What a terrible thing it is to fall under the wrath of a protective father,” he mumbled as he rushed through the process of removing the fencing gear.

“I’m sorry, my lord.  Did you say something?” the valet asked.

He shook his head.  “Not
of
any
consequence.” What did any of it matter?  He was doomed no matter what he did.  Between his mother and his father-in-law, his only means
of escape was death.  And given his young age and health
, he
feared death
was
a long ways off
.

Ethan entered through the servant
s’
stairs of Agatha’s townhouse late that evening.  Once he made sure
the hallway leading to the library was clear, he hurried down it.  Without knocking, he opened the door and slipped into the room.

Agatha glanced up from her desk where she was writing and gasped.

He quickly lowered the hood of his cloak and pressed his fingers to his lips.  “It’s all right.  It’s just me.”

Pressing a hand to her heart, she took a deep breath and released it.  “You’re horrible, Ethan.  What are you doing here?” she hissed in a low voice.

“I need to ask you a favor.”

“
I can’t put another falsehood about you into the
Tittletattle
so soon.  Even you aren’t so notorious that you have to grace the pages of every edition that gets published.”

“I’m not here to get another mention in the
Tittletattle
.”

With a sigh of relief, she said, “Good.”

He walked over to her desk and sat in the chair
across from her
.  “Actually, I came here to ask if you’d not mention how poor I am.”

“But you insisted on it.”

“I know.” He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.  “It seemed like such a good idea at the time.”

“It was.  I think it’ll get those horrible mothers to relent and finally stop trying to pair you up with their daughters.  Second to a title, ladies crave money.  And who can blame them?  Shopping is a very pleasant experience.”

“But you have to stop
it
from getting into the scandalsheets
, Agatha!”

Her eyes grew wide and she shushed him
.  “If anyone finds out you just snuc
k into my townhouse, we’ll be accused of creating a scandal.”

Lowering his voice, he said, “I’m sorry.  You’re right.  And right now, a scandal is the worst thing that can happen to me.” Really, it was.  He could see the Duke of Rumsey’s face clearly in his mind.  The gentleman would narrow those cold beady eyes at him and frown as if he was asked to clean chamber pots.  The image alone was enough to make him sick to his stomach.  “I have to be careful.  I can’t do anything to upset my father-in-law.”

“Your
father-in-law?  I didn’t hear you were married.”

“Not yet.  The wedding will be in three weeks, four days, fourteen hours and thirty-six seconds.” When her eyebrows rose in surprise, he added, “Not that I’m keeping track of the passage of time or anything.”

“When did the engagement happen?”

“That night I went to the Duke of Rumsey’s ball.”

“The same night y
ou came here begging me to put that
juicy bit of information about you in the
Tittletattle
?”

He nodded and clutched his stomach.  “Yes.  It was the worst night of my life.”

She burst out laughing but quickly placed her hand over her mouth to quiet herself.

“It’s not funny.”

She giggled. 
“For you, it’s not.  For me, it’s
hilarious.”

He rolled his eyes.  “I should have expected such an uncaring response from a lady who writes gothic horror under a gentleman’s name.”
After a moment’s pause, he added, “I’m shocked you
haven’t heard.”

“I’ve been writing.  I’m almost done with this story.  Then you can hand it to the publisher at Minerva Press
.
”

“Do you take delight in pretending to be a gentleman all the time?”

“I do it because I don’t want anyone
who reads my work
to know I’m a lady.”

“I find it hard to believe you can pull off so many identities,” Ethan commented.

She shrugged. 
“
I only have two.  Gerard Addison contributes to the
Tittletattle
, and Gilbert Horlock writes gothic horror.  It’s easy to keep track of them.”

“Even so, I think you’ll slip at some point and expose one of them.”

“You don’t give me enough credit, Ethan.  I’m mindful to watch what I’m doing.”

“Maybe.” He couldn’t manage it if it was him.  Turning his attention back to her, he pressed, “You’ll forget the item I asked you to write about me being poor, won’t you?”

“I wish I could, but I can’t.”

Stiffening in his seat, he asked, “What?”

With an apologetic smile, she shrugged.  “I submitted it yesterday morning.”

“But why?”

“Because you asked me to.  You were rather insistent it happen right away, so I didn’t delay.”

He threw back his head and groaned, gripping the arms of the chair so he wouldn’t scream.  This couldn’t be happening to him.  Of all the times Agatha was prompt about submitting something to the
Tittletattle
, it had to be this one time when the duke would kill him if he heard of it!

“I’m sorry, Ethan.”

He got the image of Catherine’s father in his mind.  The gentleman stood over him, a smallsword pressed against his throat, and this time, he had no mask to protect him.

Agatha rose from her chair and hurried over to him.  Giving his face a gentle pat, she asked, “Are you all right?”

“My life is over.  The duke is going to make me participate in a duel.”

“Oh, don’t be hysterical.  Duels are against the law.”

He shook his head and tried not to cry.  “You don’t know the power of his fury.  He’ll cut me in half and feed me to the dogs.” Glancing at her, he added, “I’m too young to die.”

She sighed in exasperation and
crossed her arms.  “You’re being absurd.”

“You didn’t see the way he glared at me while we were fencing today.  He hates me.”

“Just because he harbors feelings of ill will toward you, it doesn’t mean he hates you.”

Ethan lessened his hold on the arms of the chair and wiped his forehead.  He was sweating again.  This wasn’t good.  His hands started to shake and he had to clasp them to stop the shaking from getting out of control.  “He does hate me.  I’m a vile gentleman who is about to ruin his daughter.  He wants my head on a silver platter.”

“And to think I’m the one who writes gothic horror instead of you,” Agatha muttered with an exasperated look on her
face.  “
I demand you pull yourself together at once.  When the item comes out on the
Tittletattle
, you will look
the Duke of Rumsey in the eye and tell him it’
s not true.  Ethan, y
ou know better than anyone that you can’t believe everything you read
in
the
Tittletattle
.”