“You’re wrong, Henrietta Blake. Let me be very clear, so there’s no misunderstanding between us. You do not deserve any mistreatment. Any man who thinks so deserves to be shot.” He placed her away from him, leaned into the carriage, and lifted the seat to reveal the hidden compartment and the box containing dueling pistols beneath.
“Please, no!” Her hands clutched at him again. She fisted his waistcoat in her fingers, pulling him out of the conveyance. Grayson gripped the box tightly between them. “Give me one good reason Stubly should not be shot.”
Her grip loosened. “I …”
He handed the box to Tobias and set his palms to Henrietta’s upper arms, stroking them up and down to warm them from the morning chill. “Exactly. There isn’t a reason.” He walked away.
She reached out, her hand like lightning, her fingers clasping his waist. “I love you, you fool.”
He froze in her grasp, turned like a child’s spinning top, and wrapped his arms about her, hauling her against his chest, crashing his lips down to hers.
“God,” Tobias sneered. “Can’t you kiss my sister another time, Gray? We’re in the middle of a duel. I grant you, it’s an appropriately romantic opportunity, but—”
“Shut it, Tobias,” Henrietta muttered, tightening her arms around Grayson and molding her lips to Grayson’s once more.
As much as he reveled in the pleasure of her touch and the bell’s ring of her words—I love you—Grayson set her aside. He had a job to do, whether she wanted it done or not. He stepped away, then paused.
“Gray, they’re waiting.” Tobias’s words buzzed in his ears, but Henrietta’s blank face stopped his heart. Disappointment weighed down the corners of her rosy, just-kissed lips.
“What?”
She shook her head. “It seems … it’s just … as soon as we get close to a future together, it all falls apart.”
God, what was he supposed to say? Nothing. He kissed her again, this time slow and soft and full of promise for their future. He inhaled, hoping to take her fears away, and he exhaled, wishing to fill her up with his hope. “I’ll not get shot. I’ll not be hanged. Neither will Tobias.”
“You can’t make such assurances.”
He couldn’t. He nipped her bottom lip instead. “Stay in the carriage.”
“We demand satisfaction!” Tobias huzzah-ed behind them, but there was a grim edge to his voice as he checked the pistols within the box.
But Grayson could not play at mirth. He was deadly serious when he said, “Exactly.” He looked across the field where the three silhouettes stood. “This way Tobias. Everyone’s waiting.”
Henrietta swallowed and dropped her tear-brimmed gaze to the ground.
Grayson couldn’t leave her, not like this. “Listen,” Gray whispered, leaning toward her, “your brother has a plan, a crazy one, but if it works, we’ll end the morning with more information than blood. Do you trust me?”
Her head shot up. “What do you mean? What is the plan?”
“Wait in the carriage. You can’t be here.”
“I’m ruining the plan, so you’ve said. Can’t you tell me the plan?”
“Henrietta—”
“Gray!” Tobias bellowed.
One slim hand wrapped around Grayson’s forearm. “Will we always keep our thoughts from one another?”
“What do you mean?”
“A year ago, this could all have been avoided if we’d said how we truly felt to one another. And yesterday, you didn’t tell me you were going to fight a duel. And now, you won’t tell me what to expect on that field.”
She had a point. A good one. But there wasn’t much time. If they waited any longer, they risked being caught. He’d make it quick. “Have you ever read Shakespeare’sMuch AdoAbout Nothing?”
“Yes. Maybe. I’m not sure. A long time ago, perhaps.”
“Your brother has definitely read it.” Grayson scratched behind his ear. “I always thought it the most ridiculous thing I’d ever read, especially the part so crucial to Tobias’s plan this morning.”