Deborah Hale

The Bride Ship


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a duel, after all.”

       Chapter Four

       N o doubt it said terrible things about his character, but Sir Robert could not help relishing the look of dismay on Mrs. Finch’s pretty face when he accepted her challenge. It eased his sense of defeat…a little. The woman had outmaneuvered him, damn it! No soldier could be expected to bear that with good grace. Least of all when he felt a sneaking sense of admiration for his adversary’s resourcefulness.

      “A-accept?” For an instant she looked ready to swoon.

      Together with her tousled hair and the scratch on her face, it roused that absurd protective urge he’d felt the first moment he set eyes on her. Had recent events not demonstrated the lady was more than capable of looking after herself?

      Before he could reach out to her, Mrs. Finch composed herself. A steely light flashed in her eyes. “Very well, sir. Choose your weapon. Pistols? Swords?”

      Mrs. Carmont rushed to her friend’s side. “Surely, you cannot mean it, Sir Robert? A gentleman engaging a lady in armed combat violates every code of civilized behavior!”

      As he contemplated the ladies facing him arm in arm, one the picture of violent antagonism, the other of righteous indignation, Sir Robert fought to keep a straight face. “Quite so, Mrs. Carmont. I wish to offer combat of a different nature. One in which my size, strength and experience will not give me too great an advantage over a female opponent.”

      “Indeed?” Mrs. Finch hid her relief quite well. “What manner of combat do you propose then?”

      “Chess. Are you familiar with the game, ma’am? If not, perhaps we could make it draughts instead.”

      “It has been some years, but I used to play chess rather well. When and where do you propose to hold the match?” The set of her mouth warned Sir Robert she would be ready for him.

      “Two hours hence at Government House, if you are willing,” he replied. “I believe it is in both our interests to settle this matter without further delay.”

      “I agree.” She looked surprised to find herself addressing those words to him. “But I am curious, sir. Yesterday you told me you intended to have an apology printed in the newspaper.”

      Sir Robert nodded. “It has already been drafted and dispatched to the editor, whom I believe you have met.”

      “Er…yes. Mrs. Carmont was kind enough to introduce us.” She seemed to clutch her friend’s arm a little tighter while Sally Carmont’s expression dared him make fuss over what she’d done. “But if you have issued an apology, my honor is satisfied. Why is this chess match necessary?”

      “Because, madam, you have persuaded a number of influential citizens that your bride-ship scheme would benefit the colony. I still believe that certain drawbacks outweigh any possible advantages. But I am willing to give you the opportunity to win my cooperation.”

      “You mean if I best you at chess, we can stay?” Her eager smile made Jocelyn Finch look even more beautiful, if that were possible.

      The governor replied with a curt nod. “If you win our match, I shall make arrangements for you and your…young ladies to remain in Nova Scotia. If I win, you must set sail tomorrow morning without any further protest or effort to circumvent my authority. Agreed?”

      At least the little minx had the decency to look faintly ashamed when he mentioned circumventing his authority. She did not allow her conscience to trouble her long, however.

      “It is.” She offered him her hand to seal their bargain.

      As he wrapped his fingers around hers, Sir Robert felt a bewildering compulsion to raise them to his lips. Stifling the foolish inclination, he took a firm hold and shook her hand instead. “I shall await you at Government House.”

      Before Mrs. Finch could reply, her friend spoke up. “I will fetch her there in my carriage, Your Excellency.”

      Was the woman implying some reproach that he’d made Mrs. Finch walk the trifling distance from the wharf to his residence? Clearly these ladies were determined to put him in the wrong, whatever he did.

      He gritted his teeth. “That would be most obliging of you, Mrs. Carmont. Now if you will excuse me.”

      Sir Robert turned to the colonel, who had been watching the whole exchange with an amused grin that vexed him no end. “Will you accompany me, Carmont, or do you reckon the ladies require an armed escort as far as Hollis Street?”

      His friend chuckled. “Any fool daft enough to molest these two deserves the trouncing he’d get. You, on the other hand, might require protection from the bachelors of Nova Scotia when they hear you intend to send all these lovely ladies packing to some other fortunate colony.”

      “Et tu, Carmont?” Sir Robert growled.

      He knew the futility of trying to wage a battle without a single ally. But it galled him to surrender without a fight. He vowed to give his pretty, conniving adversary a fight she would not soon forget!

      What had made her accept his offer? Jocelyn could not wrest her attention away from the governor and Colonel Carmont as they disembarked and strode from the wharf. She had not played chess in years, while he looked like just the sort of cool, calculating fellow who would excel at the game.

      But she sensed this was the only chance the governor would give her. For the sake of her charges, she must seize it—no matter how great a disadvantage she would suffer. Besides, the governor had roused her antagonism such that she could not resist his challenge. She half wished she could confront him on a more violent field of honor—with pistols, or duelling swords…or hand-to-hand combat.

      Quite ridiculous, given the way he towered over her! Yet some furious part of her longed to strike him a physical blow. Another part yearned to shake his haughty self-control. A very tiny, traitorous part wondered how it might feel to be pinned beneath him.

      “My word!” Sally Carmont’s tinkling laugh roused Jocelyn from her wanton fancy. “You do have the most singular effect on our honorable governor, my dear.”

      Jocelyn made a wry face. “What? Is Sir Robert usually more demonstrative in his manner?”

      “Demonstrative?” Sally burst into such a gale of laughter she could scarcely catch her breath. “Quite the contrary, I assure you! Will swears he is the best of men, but I have always found him unbearably severe. I vow, he spoke more and with greater feeling these past few minutes than I have heard him speak in the past month altogether.”

      “I refuse to take either the credit or the blame for Sir Robert’s recent behavior,” Jocelyn insisted. “It is the situation that has provoked him, though I cannot fathom his prejudice against my mission.”

      For all she denied ruffling the governor’s composure, it intrigued her to think she might possess that power. And it restored a little of her self-respect, which was shaken by the suspicion Governor Kerr might hold some of that same power over her.

      “Do not slight yourself, my dear,” said Sally. “I believe you have more effect upon Sir Robert than either of you is willing to admit. Now fetch your hat and let us be off. We have less than two hours to prepare for this duel of yours.”

      “Of course, how clever to think of it!” Jocelyn started off toward the galleyway. “You and I can play a few practice matches at your house before I have to face Sir Robert.”

      “Chess?” Sally’s mouth puckered as though she had bitten something sour. “Don’t be silly! We must fix your hair. And I have a new gown I believe will suit you very well.”

      “What does my appearance matter? I mean to beat the governor at his own game, not make a conquest of him.”

      Sally Carmont wagged her forefinger. “Why should any woman want to beat a man at his game when she may so easily vanquish him at hers?”

      “I have