“If Lord Neville slanders your good name, life will become impossible. Not only that, it will hurt your family.”
And her hopes for a career. It was difficult for a woman to be taken seriously in an all-male preserve like medieval scholarship. With unsullied virtue, she had a slim chance, especially if producing original and expert work. Should the world doubt her chastity, salacious laughter would howl down everything she did. Bitter disappointment clogged her throat. She could never regret giving herself to Richard, but the price of recklessness was abandoning the future she’d planned.
“I’m sorry, Genevieve,” Richard said quietly.
The aching sadness in his voice provided no consolation. Blinking back tears, she stared blindly into the distance. “So we do nothing?”
“Of course not.” Richard stood beside the duke. The two men made quite a contrast, one so dark and one so fair, even with dyed hair. “I’ll challenge him.”
Dear God…
She should have expected this. Furiously she surged upright, hardly noticing that she spilled wine on the beautiful gown. Her chagrin about lost dreams crumbled to ash compared to Richard risking his life. “Don’t be absurd. Forget my reputation and let the law take its course.”
“He won’t talk if I kill him first.” Richard sounded older than his years.
She’d never loved him more and she’d never felt a stronger urge to hit him with something large and hard. She advanced, itching to shake sense into him. “He might kill you.”
Richard shrugged and rescued her listing glass from her clenched fist. “Have some faith, darling. I’m a damned good shot.”
“And he’s a chea
ting swine.”
“A duel means scandal.” Sedgemoor’s coolness deflated her anger like a pin to a balloon. “He’s Leath’s uncle. If you kill him, you’ll have to flee the country.”
Richard placed her glass safely on a table. “Unless we present our information to the law afterward.”
Sedgemoor ran a weary hand through his hair. “How convincing will that look when he’s unable to defend himself?”
“So I flee,” Richard said with forced casualness. Once his indolent air might have convinced her. No longer. “Fairbrother is a blight upon the landscape. Expunging him is a public service.”
Ignoring the duke, she grabbed Richard’s good arm with frantic fingers. “Not at the cost of your life or freedom.”
“I can’t allow him to threaten you.”
Her grip tightened. “You needn’t act the knight in shining armor, Richard.”
Wryness tinged his smile. “When it comes to you, I can’t help it. Apparently I’ve discovered my backbone.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” the duke snapped, setting his glass on the mantel with a click. “You’ve always been a better man than you pretended. Nobody with any gumption believes your ineffectual fribble act. If I was in trouble, you’re the first person I’d turn to.”
Amazement flooded Richard’s face. He stared at his friend as if awaiting some quip to undercut the tribute. “I—”
Sedgemoor put him out of his misery. “Don’t bother answering. You’ll laugh it off anyway. I know how you react to anything that smacks of genuine feeling. But given you’re determined to fling yourself before Fairbrother’s pistol, you should know how highly I value you.”
As so often, Richard surprised and impressed her. He crossed the room to clap the duke on the shoulder. He made no attempt to hide how the avowal moved him. “Thank you, Cam. When a man like you says such things—however unjustified—a fellow would be a cur to quibble.” He paused. “In case Fairbrother’s bullet finds its target, I couldn’t ask for a better friend either.”
The cold wind of their dilemma tempered the warmth in her heart. “This sounds unpleasantly like a farewell.”
The duke faced her. “Richard’s right. With Fairbrother at large, you’re not safe.”
“I can hide.” The threat of losing Richard to a bullet constricted her belly with anguished denial.
“What about your career?” Richard asked.
Her smile was shaky. Astounding how profoundly she’d changed since falling in love with him. Her ambitions meant nothing compared to this man’s well-being. “My work isn’t worth your life.”
“Let’s not quarrel.”