The Beast's Bluestocking (The Bluestocking War), Eva Devon [e textbook reader .TXT] 📗

“Be careful,” Merrill warned abruptly.

She paused. “I beg your pardon?”

A muscle tightened in Merrill’s jaw. “He can be quite difficult when in this kind of mood. And honestly, I think I should go and speak to him. We have much to discuss.”

“All right,” she breathed, relenting, though her heart slammed against her ribs at her own inner confusion and distress. What was her future? It all felt so entirely uncertain now. “You know him well. It is very difficult for me to hold myself back, but I do not wish to act foolishly in this, for I can see it is no small matter.”

“No,” Merrill agreed. “It is not, and I am glad that you can see it. Lady Phillipa, you must take care too. For one never knows what Captain Adams might try.”

“I don't understand,” she said.

“Well, if he wishes my friend to suffer. . .” Merrill let his voice trail off, then finished. “The thing that he could do? Attack someone Anthony cares about. That would bring him the most possible suffering.”

She blinked. That had never occurred to her, the idea that she might matter so much to Anthony that an attack upon her would be a way to hurt him viciously.

“I see,” she said, her eyes widening. Oh, how her life had changed in but a few hours. She’d been reunited with the man she loved. And now she was part of something much bigger than herself, or even herself and Anthony.

It hardly seemed possible, for the love she felt for Anthony was so great.

All of this was far more complicated than she could have anticipated. She had simply hoped to find love again, to find love with the man that she had shared her soul with. But it seemed that her life was to be far wilder than she’d ever thought possible.

Once again, danger was creeping in. But she wouldn’t back down.

Fear did not matter. Many perils seemed to be on her horizon. But her life had not been free of peril in the past, and she did not expect it to be free of peril in the future.

She was not about to run away. Not when she’d finally found love. No matter how fleeting.

Chapter 13

Merrill stormed out into the garden, looking for his friend. Anthony had gone a surprisingly good distance, if he did say so himself. And after having gone a little over three miles, he found himself a spot out by the lake.

Anger and passion made Merrill’s approach audible. Anthony heard him coming through the tall grass before he came up behind him.

“You’re moving fast these days,” Merrill growled.

“I am,” Anthony agreed, staring out at the rippling water. “It’s all the walking. It’s making it a bit more possible for me to move rapidly.”

Merrill stopped just feet behind him. “And, of course, perhaps your night with the Lady Phillipa has improved your spirits?”

Anthony swung him a vicious stare. “Don’t you dare.”

“Is it not true?” Merrill countered, unyielding. “You have indulged yourself as you said you would not, and your spirits have buoyed. I told you she would make you feel better, but I never imagined you would take such advantage of her. I thought you would see reason and that you would declare your feelings and make her your duchess. That way, you would have a lifetime of support, not just a few moments.”

Merrill took a step forward, his voice imploring, “Please, God, tell me, man, that you plan to make her your wife.”

Anthony could not reply. His insides were twisting.

After all, the entire arrangement between himself and Phillipa had nothing to do with marriage. They had made that clear to each other.

And now, with his plans regarding Adams fading into the wind? He felt completely off foot. None of this was going according to his plans. How had he lost control of everything so entirely?

Merrill let out a low groan. “I am going to have to kill you,” he said. “Unless Adams kills you first, and then I shan’t have to spend sleepless nights rolling, tossing, and turning, thinking about what I was forced to do because of your own poor judgment.”

“If you challenge me to a duel,” Anthony said tightly, “I will refuse to fight it.”

Merrill blinked before biting out, “Who said I was going to challenge you to a duel?”

“You’re a man of honor,” Anthony replied easily, feeling the pain of having disappointed his only friend. “You would never murder me without rules and a second.”

“How do you know?” Merrill demanded, clearing blustering now. “I might turn a leaf myself and take a page from your own book. You seem to have eschewed honor quite easily.”

Anthony stiffened, anger coursing through him. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Merrill spat out. He shook his dark head and let out a cry of frustration. “I think I should march you down the aisle with a pistol at your back.”

Anthony tried a wan smile. It did not suit. He grimaced instead. “You could try, but I don’t think Phillipa would have me under duress. She’s quite willful, you know. You’d have to have two pistols. One at my back and one at hers.”

Merrill threw up his hands, paced, then turned back to face him. “You are both fools, then, complete fools. It is clear to me that you are both meant to be together. The very idea that you should resist it so thoroughly is madness.”

“Perhaps,” Anthony said quietly. “Perhaps we are both mad, and it is a mistake. But circumstances do not allow us to give ourselves to each other in the way you want us to.”

Merrill snorted loudly, his disgust apparent. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard” — his lip curled as he raked Anthony up and down with a stare that would have left any other man unable to father children in the future — “and the most privileged. You have the opportunity to achieve happiness, and you are going to just. . .”

“What?” Anthony