Page 150 of The Dueling Duchess

“Duel?” he squawked, his voice breaking on the word. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“Do you really want me to lay out my grievance in public, Curtis?”

He held up his hands. “No!” he gasped. “But, er—you don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

“You don’t get to choose the weapon—that is—according to etiquette you’re the challenger and you can’t—”

“I don’t follow your stupid rules,” Cecile retorted. “Meet me at dawn with your pistols or be known to every man in this room for the gutless, puling coward you really are.”

Curtis’s jaw sagged, but no words came out of his mouth.

“I’ll stand as second for Miss Tremblay,” Elliot said, his voice loud enough to reach every ear in the room and the corridor beyond. He smiled grimly and offered his arm to Cecile.

“Thank you.” She set her hand on his sleeve, pleased to see she wasn’t shaking.

“Stand aside!” Elliot barked, guiding her through what seemed to be a wall of men.

Later, Cecile would have no memory of how she got from the club to a hackney to Newcastle Street.

* * *

Guy shoved his hands into his hair and pulled hard enough to make his scalp ache. “You did what?”

Before Cecile could answer him, Guy turned on Elliot.

“And you were there and allowed this to happen?”

“It was not for him to allow or disallow!” Cecile snapped, finally coming out of the fugue she’d been in since Elliot had led her into the book room.

“You are going to fight a duel, Cecile? Have you lost your mind?” Guy demanded, uncowed by her anger.

“You were the one who said it would be a shame for Curtis to get away with what he’d done.”

He made a strangled choking sound as he tried to come up with a response to her ridiculous statement.

“Besides,” she said, “he won’t meet me. He knows I am a better shot. And he won’t ask for swords or some other weapon because it will make him look like a coward to all of London.”

“She’s right,” Elliot said.

Guy flung up his hands. “So you think—what, exactly? That he will apologize? What good will that do?”

Cecile stood suddenly and strode out into the corridor.

Guy and Elliot exchanged confused looks.

When Cecile returned a moment later, she handed a thick bundle of parchment to Elliot.

Guy watched as his friend skimmed over the document.

When Elliot looked up, he was smiling appreciatively. “Very good, Cecile.” He cocked his head. “Or do you prefer Manon?”

“Call me Cecile.” She jerked her chin at Guy. “Explain it to your friend.”

Elliot turned to Guy. “If Blanchard wants to get out of being shot, he’s going to have to pay her enough to buy out Cecile’s partners in the circus as well as paying an additional ten thousand pounds. He also needs to return the rights to every single one of the designs she reproduced for him and grant her exclusive use of the Blanchet name.”

Guy did some quick mental calculations based on how much the Fayre property might be worth and then added ten thousand onto that figure. “That’s a nice sum of money, but not nearly what he owes you, Cecile.”