Revenge In Regency Society: Brushed by Scandal / Courting Miss Vallois. Gail Whitiker

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СКАЧАТЬ gone. Upon returning home, he’d made for his study and downed a stiff glass of brandy, followed in quick succession by two more. But the potent liquor had done nothing to assuage his guilt, or to help him find escape in sleep. When the morning had come, he’d been as tired and as irritable as when he’d gone to bed.

      Much as he was this morning, three days later, as he made his way to Angelo’s Haymarket rooms for his ten o’clock appointment with the Marquess of Yew’s son.

      Barrington deeply regretted having made the appointment.

      The last thing he felt like doing was teaching the finer points of fencing to the gangly nineteen-year-old son of a man he neither liked nor respected. However, he had given Yew his promise that he would show the boy a few things and he was a man who kept his word. All he could do now was hope the hour passed quickly and that he didn’t do the boy an unintentional injury.

      Unfortunately, Lord Bessmel was right when he’d said that word of the lesson—or demonstration—had spread. By the time Barrington arrived, the room was filled to overflowing with gentlemen of all ages, some carrying swords, some just there to observe. It was worse than he’d expected.

      ‘Ah, Parker,’ Lord Yew greeted him with a smile. ‘Good to see you. Quite the turnout, eh? I vow you draw a larger crowd than Prinnie.’

      ‘Perhaps because you put it about that this was to be a demonstration, rather than the private lesson we agreed to,’ Barrington said.

      ‘Really?’ the marquess said lazily. ‘I don’t recall saying this was to be a lesson. But never mind, now you and Gerald have a suitable audience.’

      ‘An audience that comes armed and ready to spar?’ The marquess smiled. ‘You should be thanking me, Parker. You have your pick of opponents and since we both know there’s not a man in the room who can best you, you’re guaranteed to come out on top. Why not just have fun with it?’ ‘Because that’s not what I do.’ Barrington’s jaw tightened. Unfortunately, they both knew this was something of a command performance. A ‘small additional favour’ in exchange for the marquess’s silence over Peregrine Rand’s affair with his wife. And while Barrington would normally have refused to play a part, all it took was the memory of the look on Anna’s face when she had spoken of Rand’s guilt to make him change his mind. He didn’t particularly care about the other man’s feelings, but he would have done almost anything to prevent hers being further injured.

      ‘I’ve lived up to my side of the bargain, Yew. I trust you intend to do the same.’

      ‘Are you questioning my integrity?’ the marquess asked, peering down his long, patrician nose.

      ‘No. But I know how angry you were with Rand and I don’t want to think that all of this has been for naught.’

      The marquess chuckled. ‘I can assure you it has not. In point of fact, I wasn’t really angry at all.’

      Barrington’s mouth tightened. ‘I beg your pardon?’

      The marquess’s expression was remote as he gazed at the milling crowd. ‘Rand is not the first man to make love to my wife, and, God knows, he won’t be the last. Susan is voracious in that regard and while I enjoy sex as much as the next man, I am not inclined to engage in it as often as she might wish. So I turn a blind eye to her affairs. It flatters me to know that she is still beautiful enough to attract other men; it flatters her to know that she is desired by men younger than herself.’

      No stranger to the unusual, Barrington was none the less bewildered by Yew’s unexpected admission. ‘Then why did you go to the trouble of persecuting him?’

      The marquess’s gaze narrowed. ‘You really don’t know?’ When Barrington shook his head, Yew said in amusement, ‘Because I was asked to.’

      Having casually dropped his bomb, the marquess strolled away. Barrington, aware that the eyes of the room were on him, allowed nothing of his anger to show, knowing it would incite too many questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. But he was angry. Furiously so. Someone had been playing with Peregrine Rand—and, by association, with him.

      ‘Good m-morning, Sir B-Barrington,’ Lord Gerald Fitzhenry said, coming up to him. ‘It’s v-very good of you to d-do this for me.’

      Lord Yew’s youngest son was a quiet, unassuming young man, who, though raised in an atmosphere of wealth and privilege, had managed to lose none of his good nature as a result. Perhaps the stutter kept him from becoming too arrogant, Barrington reflected. It wasn’t a fashionable affectation, but a lifelong affliction, one the boy had desperately tried to overcome. But it was exacerbated by nerves and, given the unexpected turnout in the room, Barrington knew this morning’s performance would be more difficult for Lord Gerald than usual. As such, he turned to face the lad with a reassuring smile. ‘You show a great deal of promise, Lord Gerald. Perhaps I can point out a few things that will help you become an even better fencer.’

      The boy’s face shone. ‘I would l-like that, very much.’

      ‘Good. Then shall we take our positions?’

      As Barrington led the way onto the floor, he was conscious of every eye in the room following him. He was acquainted with many of the gentlemen present and knew that some of them were decent fencers and were here for that reason alone. Having been taught by one of the finest swordsmen in France, Barrington possessed skills few others did and the chance to watch him spar today was an opportunity too good to miss.

      But not all the gentlemen in the room had come simply to observe his technique. A movement at the far end of the room drew Barrington’s attention. Looking up, he saw Hayle leaning against the wall, sword in hand. He had come to fight. He’d made that very clear.

      Barrington had no intention of indulging him. Men like Hayle only wanted to prove their superiority over others. It was likely one of the reasons Hayle resented Rand’s presence in the house. Though Rand offered no tangible threat, he was a competitor for the earl’s attention, perhaps even for his affection. And if Hayle believed that Rand was his half-brother, he would naturally assume there was an affinity between his father and the other man he couldn’t affect or control.

      He wouldn’t like that. Hayle needed to be seen as the only cock of the roost, and, so far, he had. Lord only knew what would happen if and when he found out otherwise.

      An hour later, it was all over.

      ‘You did well,’ Barrington said, removing his mask and walking towards Lord Gerald. ‘But you would do better if you kept your arm straight and the weight of your body on the front of your feet. You need to be able to move quickly around your opponent. Try to catch him off balance.’

      ‘Yes, Sir B-Barrington,’ said the grateful but sweating youth.

      ‘And don’t forget what I said about practising your double and triple feints. They’ll stand you in good stead when you find yourself pushed to defend yourself. If you like, come round to the house and I’ll lend you a couple of books that helped me when I was where you are.’

      The boy’s face shone as though he’d been given the keys to the kingdom. ‘Thank you so much, Sir B-Barrington. I will t-try to d-do that.’

      Barrington smiled and clapped the lad on the shoulder. He was glad now that he’d agreed to the lesson. Lord Gerald had turned out to be a surprisingly good swordsman and he was appreciative of the time he’d been given. He would benefit by what he’d learned СКАЧАТЬ