“And?” Elizabeth burst out. “What is it then? Will we be safe?”
“Oh, indeed Elizabeth,” Blackwood replied, his whole body humming with satisfaction. “I think this will be great news for you. I will say, if I do say so myself, that the rather ominous legend of the Duke of Blackwood is now truly secure.”
Tom stilled. The Duke of Death. What had he been up to if he’d so thoroughly secured the appellation that he did not usually enjoy.
“Blackwood, what the devil are you talking about?” Tom prompted.
“Well, I have fought four duels in two days… and four lords have racked off to the continent…” Blackwood snorted with disgust. “Because all of them put on a very poor show. Let me tell you.”
Elizabeth gaped at him. “Speak plain. What the blazes do you mean?”
Blackwood drew in a breath. “Well, of the four gentlemen that I challenged, all but one of them showed up. The last ran off to Naples, humiliating his second.” Blackwood arched a dark brow then continued. “But the three others? They either fired too soon or behaved as cowards, trying to run from the dueling field before I fired. A metaphor, I think, for their life.”
A slow deadly smile tilted Blackwood’s lips. “Alas, all of them will limp.”
Elizabeth gasped, “You shot them?”
Blackwood nodded factually, unperturbed. “I didn’t want to kill them,” he explained. “That’s just a bit too much to deal with, explaining and such. After all, dueling is supposedly illegal.” He sighed. “But I’m perfectly content with those fools thinking I might call them out again to make certain that they never cut a caper, dance the waltz or… well, you get the line.”
Elizabeth blinked, as if she couldn’t quite believe the four men willing to tear her down had all run off like terrified chickens. “And they’ve all left England?”
Blackwood inclined his dark head. “Correct. You see, I think they have a very clear understanding that if they ever show their faces on this isle again, I shall make certain that they have a matching wound… or Tom will slowly track them down over the years and they will find convenient ends.”
There was a long silence before Elizabeth exhaled as if she had been holding all her fears in a vise. “Thank you,” she said.
Blackwood grew serious. “I didn’t do it for you, Elizabeth,” he said.
“No,” Tom said softly. “He did it for me.”
“What?” Elizabeth said, her brows rising ever so slightly.
Tom caught his friend’s eyes and felt a brotherhood, a connection that he knew could never be severed. “He did it to make sure that I could be with you. Because he knew that if I did it, if I called them out or if I made certain they were all wounded in an alley this week or even year? My future would be over and I would not be able to be with you Elizabeth.”
The Duke of Blackwood did not stir a muscle but merely replied, “I’m a duke. I’m veritably a god. I can do whatever the hell I want,” Blackwood’s gaze did not leave his friend’s face as he explained, “Tom, on the other hand, he’s powerful. But he has the sort of power that people can’t wait to take away because it’s new. I know a few lords who’d condemn him to Tyburn in an instant given any chance.”
Tom was not offended. The Duke of Blackwood was absolutely correct and he was grateful.
Elizabeth’s eyes… usually so stoic, her body so implacable, softened. Tears glistened in her gaze and she stepped forward and threw her arms around Blackwood, whose eyes bulged with shock. “I cannot thank you enough then, Blackwood. You have changed our lives. Tom is…”
“Yes?” Blackwood said, his arms at his sides.
She leaned back, grabbed Blackwood’s shoulders and declared, “Tom is the most remarkable man of my acquaintance, and you, you have given me that. You have made it possible for me to have him.”
Blackwood patted her on the back, as affectionate as Tom had ever seen him, before he drawled, “You shall name your first son after me of course.”
She let out a peal of laughter. “If you insist. We shall do so joyfully,” she said softly, “for our future is only possible because of you.”
Blackwood stepped out of her embrace before he tugged slightly on his coat sleeves. “Do not say such things, Elizabeth. You do not know which way fate dances. We should be careful when making such statements. And I have one more piece of news,” he ventured.
She flinched, clearly realizing it was about her father. “Yes,” she queried. “Is he going to cause us a great deal of difficulty?”
Blackwood’s merriment dimmed. “He will never cause you difficulty again, Elizabeth,” he said quietly his voice nearly stolen on the growing sea breeze whipping in off the coast. “He’s dead.”
Tom tensed. “What the devil are you talking about?”
Elizabeth’s face paled even whiter to match the snow that would soon fall on the high peaks. “Dead?” She queried. “My father?”
“Yes,” Blackwood affirmed.