who had reluctantly agreed to second Fronard.
The Earl and Fronard removed their cloaks. Jarrold opened the pistol case for Fronard and the Earl to choose their weapons. The Earl ran his hand over the pistols. Fronard picked them up and examined them, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Then the duellists stood back to back. At a word from Jarrold they started on their paces. The Earl walked in as straight a line as Fronard, his head held high. He never hesitated, never stumbled.
Jacina could not tear her eyes from him.
The men turned and raised their pistols.
The Earl was to take the first shot. He raised his pistol straight before him, but Jacina was sure it was not levelled directly at Fronard. She twisted her hands together.
'Please God let him not miss.'
Fronard, standing with the oak in his view, caught sight of Jacina. He could not resist baiting her.
"Ah! You have come, Miss Jacina, to say goodbye to your friend!"
It was a foolish thing for him to do. The Earl cocked his head and slowly moved his pistol to the right, towards the sound of Fronard.
Jacina noticed the adjustment and hope flooded her heart.
The shot reverberated over the trees. Wood pigeons burst from amid the leaves, calling in alarm.
Fronard staggered but did not fall. He glanced at his shoulder as a red stain appeared on his pale grey shirt.
With an angry snarl he raised his pistol. Jacina felt the shot in her very being.
The Earl's head snapped back and he fell.
Jacina cried out and ran towards his prone body, but Jarrold and the doctor were there before her. She caught a glimpse of a bloodied forehead before the doctor waved her back. She was caught sobbing in the arms of the Earl's valet who had joined the group around the Earl. Sarah hobbled up a moment later.
"Is he dead, is he dead?" Jacina moaned.
The doctor pressed his ear to the Earl's chest. Then he felt for his pulse. "He is still breathing," he said.
"Thank God," cried Jacina in relief. "THANK GOD!"
The doctor hurriedly bound the Earl's brow with a white cloth. "Let us get back to the castle" he urged. "He may be saved."
Nobody thought of Fronard.
The valet and Jarrold carried the Earl to the gig. Sarah followed, her arm supporting Jacina.
"The ladies can ride in my gig," suggested the doctor. He looked round and then gave an exasperated cry. "Where the devil – ?"
The doctor's gig had gone! With it had gone Fronard.
They now noticed the Steward, rising with a groan from the grass.
"What happened?" asked Jarrold with a frown.
The Steward explained. "Although it was evident that the Earl was hit with the first shot, still that scoundrel Fronard raised his pistol to fire again. I heard him muttering – 'finish it, finish it'.
"I wrestled with him and managed to snatch the pistol, but as I turned he hit me on the back of the head with something hard. I don't know what. I went down, but luckily fell on the pistol – so he hasn't taken that."
Jarrold and the others thanked the Steward warmly for his actions. It was clear that Fronard had intended to ensure that the Earl was dead with a second bullet.
Now they had to fly like the wind to the castle to save the Earl.
The Steward elected to ride the Earl's black horse. The valet rode the grey. The doctor and the two ladies settled in the remaining gig with the Earl. Jarrold took the reins. The whip lashed through the air as the horses set off at a gallop.
The Earl's head lay in Jacina's lap. With trembling fingers, she brushed the hair back from his unconscious brow.
For this moment, he was hers.
For the whole drive back through the damp woods, as the sky grew lighter, he was hers.
Only at the castle was he torn from her.
Jacina had to force herself not to resist as Jarrold, the valet and the Steward lifted the Earl from her arms. She climbed carefully down after him and then turned to help Sarah.
Once alighted, Sarah hurried off to the kitchen entrance. She was going to order hot water and towels to be
The Earl and Fronard removed their cloaks. Jarrold opened the pistol case for Fronard and the Earl to choose their weapons. The Earl ran his hand over the pistols. Fronard picked them up and examined them, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Then the duellists stood back to back. At a word from Jarrold they started on their paces. The Earl walked in as straight a line as Fronard, his head held high. He never hesitated, never stumbled.
Jacina could not tear her eyes from him.
The men turned and raised their pistols.
The Earl was to take the first shot. He raised his pistol straight before him, but Jacina was sure it was not levelled directly at Fronard. She twisted her hands together.
'Please God let him not miss.'
Fronard, standing with the oak in his view, caught sight of Jacina. He could not resist baiting her.
"Ah! You have come, Miss Jacina, to say goodbye to your friend!"
It was a foolish thing for him to do. The Earl cocked his head and slowly moved his pistol to the right, towards the sound of Fronard.
Jacina noticed the adjustment and hope flooded her heart.
The shot reverberated over the trees. Wood pigeons burst from amid the leaves, calling in alarm.
Fronard staggered but did not fall. He glanced at his shoulder as a red stain appeared on his pale grey shirt.
With an angry snarl he raised his pistol. Jacina felt the shot in her very being.
The Earl's head snapped back and he fell.
Jacina cried out and ran towards his prone body, but Jarrold and the doctor were there before her. She caught a glimpse of a bloodied forehead before the doctor waved her back. She was caught sobbing in the arms of the Earl's valet who had joined the group around the Earl. Sarah hobbled up a moment later.
"Is he dead, is he dead?" Jacina moaned.
The doctor pressed his ear to the Earl's chest. Then he felt for his pulse. "He is still breathing," he said.
"Thank God," cried Jacina in relief. "THANK GOD!"
The doctor hurriedly bound the Earl's brow with a white cloth. "Let us get back to the castle" he urged. "He may be saved."
Nobody thought of Fronard.
The valet and Jarrold carried the Earl to the gig. Sarah followed, her arm supporting Jacina.
"The ladies can ride in my gig," suggested the doctor. He looked round and then gave an exasperated cry. "Where the devil – ?"
The doctor's gig had gone! With it had gone Fronard.
They now noticed the Steward, rising with a groan from the grass.
"What happened?" asked Jarrold with a frown.
The Steward explained. "Although it was evident that the Earl was hit with the first shot, still that scoundrel Fronard raised his pistol to fire again. I heard him muttering – 'finish it, finish it'.
"I wrestled with him and managed to snatch the pistol, but as I turned he hit me on the back of the head with something hard. I don't know what. I went down, but luckily fell on the pistol – so he hasn't taken that."
Jarrold and the others thanked the Steward warmly for his actions. It was clear that Fronard had intended to ensure that the Earl was dead with a second bullet.
Now they had to fly like the wind to the castle to save the Earl.
The Steward elected to ride the Earl's black horse. The valet rode the grey. The doctor and the two ladies settled in the remaining gig with the Earl. Jarrold took the reins. The whip lashed through the air as the horses set off at a gallop.
The Earl's head lay in Jacina's lap. With trembling fingers, she brushed the hair back from his unconscious brow.
For this moment, he was hers.
For the whole drive back through the damp woods, as the sky grew lighter, he was hers.
Only at the castle was he torn from her.
Jacina had to force herself not to resist as Jarrold, the valet and the Steward lifted the Earl from her arms. She climbed carefully down after him and then turned to help Sarah.
Once alighted, Sarah hurried off to the kitchen entrance. She was going to order hot water and towels to be
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