The Double Wager

Chapter 14

Henry had found it impossible to settle to any activity all day. She found herself constantly wandering to her room, from the window of which she could see a long distance I down the driveway. She hoped he would come today. She dreaded the thought of having to go through all this again tomorrow.

It was late afternoon when she finally spotted a curricle appearing from among the trees far down the driveway. Her heart beating faster, Henry hurried down to the drawing room and sank into a chair facing the door, a book in hand. Several minutes later, Trevors arrived with the a

"Show him up, Trevors," she said; then, seeing that Cranshawe bad followed the butler, she leapt to her feet and smiled a shy welcome.

"Oliver," she said, extending a hand to him, "you came quickly."

"Did you expect differently, my dear?" he replied, smiling dazzlingly into her eyes and taking her hand in both of his. He turned it up as he lowered his head, and kissed the palm.

"Trevors," Henry said to the butler, who was hovering disapprovingly in the background, "I should like a light meal served immediately, please."

"Immediately, Miss Henry?" he asked. "It is not di

"Nevertheless, I wish it," she replied. "I wish to take my husband's cousin riding while it is still daylight."

The butler bowed stiffly and withdrew.

"Riding, Henry?" Cranshawe queried. "I had other plans in mind, my dear."

Henry glanced at him coyly from beneath her eyelashes. "What, Oliver," she said, "in the house here where I am surrounded by faithful retainers? I know of a very pleasant and very private meadow from which we can count the stars.

He laughed and pulled her roughly into his arms. "To hell with the retainers," he said, "but I do like the idea of finally possessing you under the moon and stars. Where may I go, my dear, to change my clothes and freshen up for you?"

Henry leaned back and looked up into his face. "I have had Giles' room prepared for you," she said. "Come, I shall take you there. I must change, too, into a riding habit." To her immense relief, he released her and stood back to allow her to lead the way.

Less than an hour later, Henry and Cranshawe were on horseback, trotting toward the lower meadow. Henry had selected a russet-colored riding skirt because it had large pockets that hid the bulge of the loaded dueling pistol. But she could feel it bumping against her leg as she rode.

"Is it not as lovely and as secluded as I promised?" she asked gaily as they rode the horses single-file through the gap in the hedge into the daisy-strewn grass of the meadow.

Cranshawe smiled appreciatively at her and followed her lead as she dismounted from her horse and tethered it. "Indeed it is, Henry," he said. "I could hardly have discovered a more charming love nest. Come here."

She laughed. "The other side will be better," she said, away from the horses and with a more open view of the sky." She picked up her skirts above her ankles and began to run lightly across the grass. Cranshawe followed.

"Oh, what is that?" Henry asked, suddenly stopping in her tracks. She pointed to – a piece of paper fluttering against a stone in the middle of the field. "Do go see, Oliver.''

. "For you, tonight, anything, my dear," he replied, and changed direction to rescue the sheet of paper. He picked

it up and read it, his back to Henry as she continued on her way across the field until she came to the fence.

"What is this?" he asked incredulously, turning with the paper in his hand. He found himself looking down the barrel of a pistol held by a very determined-looking Henry.

"Read it more carefully, Oliver," she said coolly. "Perhaps it will make more sense a second time."

"What is going on here, Henry?" he asked, eyeing the gun. "You are not intending to fire that thing, are you?"

"Indeed I am," she replied, "and I would advise you to stay very still if you value your life."

"Little fool!" he exclaimed. "You would not dare. Murder is a hanging offense, you know."

"Oh, but I do not intend to murder you," she said, "as you would know if you had read more carefully the note that you hold. I am going to shoot you in the arm, Oliver. I am a good shot, I assure you. I shall hit the mark if you do not move. If you do move, of course, I might kill you by accident. That would be a pity, would it not?"

"This is madness, Henry," he said impatiently. "You know that sooner or later I shall have my way with you. Why make it harder for yourself? Now give me the gun." He took one purposeful step in her direction.

"Take one more step, Oliver, and I shall shoot you in the leg," Henry said calmly. He noticed that the barrel of the pistol angled downward very slightly. "I do not want to shoot your arm, you see, until you have signed that note."

"You will give me that pistol, Henry, right now," Cranshawe ordered, red with fury, "and be thankful if I end up making love to you tonight instead of thrashing you within an inch of your life, as you deserve." But he did not move.

"Be careful, Oliver," Henry replied, "your charm is slipping. Now, if you look at that note in your hand, you will be able to confirm that it says you were shot in the arm by Henrietta Devron, Duchess of Eversleigh, while you were trespassing on her brother's estate and attempting to seduce her. You will note also that there is a space at the bottom for your signature. If you look on the ground, you will find a container of ink and a pen beside the stone that was holding down the paper. You see, I think of everything. Now, will you please sign it so that we can get the shooting over with?"

"You are mad," he said. "What is the purpose of this, pray?"

Henry smiled grimly. "You see, Oliver," she said, "you will be returning to London with your arm in a sling. You would be the laughingstock for a long time if it became known how you received your injury. I shall have it in my power to prevent or to provoke that ridicule."

"Very neat," he declared, a ghost of his old smile playing about his lips. "Your silence in return for mine, is that it?"

"There is a brain behind the charm, I see," was the answer he received.

"I shall not sign, of course, he said, the smile becoming firmer.

"Then I shall have to put a bullet in your leg," Henry a

"All right, you minx, you win this round," Cranshawe said hastily, "but it will go all the worse for you, Henry, when I finally get you within my grasp."

"Perhaps, but you will need two sound arms for that, Oliver," she replied, lowering her left hand again.

Cranshawe searched around on the ground until he found the items she had described. He dipped the quill pen in the container and hastily scratched his name on the paper, using his knee as a desktop.

"Here is your paper," he said, holding it out in her direction. I am going to turn and leave, Henry. I trust that you have enough gallantry not to shoot a man in the back.''

"I shall still be aiming for your right arm between shoulder and elbow, Oliver," she said, quite unperturbed. "Of course, it is always harder to hit a moving target with accuracy. I advise you to stand absolutely still."

Again her left hand rose to steady her wrist. Cranshawe did as she bade him. A cold sweat broke out on his face.

"Don't shoot, your Grace!" a voice yelled frantically from the gap in the hedge. The gun dropped a few inches as Henry, u