She was very glad he’d interrupted that revolting kiss. But while it touched her to have his protective fury aroused on her behalf, she could not very well explain why Ackerby had been kissing her, not without revealing her brother’s likely criminal misdeeds, which she was loath to do. Besides, Rayne might be even more enraged if he learned of Ackerby’s attempt to blackmail her into becoming his mistress. While it would give her satisfaction to see the baron punished for his humiliating insults, he didn’t deserve to die for them.
Ackerby, however, was clearly enraged by the affront to his person. He lay sprawled there amid the rosebushes, holding his bruised jaw and glaring up at Rayne, the picture of wrath.
“How dare you strike me, you … you … cretin. I demand an apology at once!”
“You will have a long wait,” Rayne gritted out. “You owe Miss Ellis an apology for mauling her.”
“The devil I do!” Ackerby began before Rayne cut him off.
“You will beg her pardon or name your seconds.”
“Then I will name my seconds,” he snapped.
“Pistols or swords?”
“Pistols. It will be my pleasure to put a bullet through you.”
“It will be my pleasure to teach you a lesson in appropriate behavior toward women.”
>
Madeline felt her jaw drop as she stood there, rendered speechless with shock. Rayne had just challenged the baron to a duel and the baron had accepted!
“No!” she exclaimed in a high, weak voice. But neither nobleman was listening to her.
“Tomorrow at dawn?” Rayne demanded.
“Agreed,” Ackerby snarled back.
“Here or London?”
“London. It will inconvenience me less. We can meet at the usual location.”
Rayne gave a brusque nod. “My second will call upon yours to finalize the particulars about weapons and such.”
The baron hesitated then, as if suddenly realizing what he had gotten himself into.
Madeline glanced up at Rayne, who still looked deadly as he stared down at his opponent. The baron must have thought so too, but he couldn’t back down without losing face.
“Very well,” Ackerby muttered as he struggled to his feet. “My home in London is located at Number Seven Portman Square.”
He was evidently having second thoughts, Madeline conjectured, but he was too irate or too proud to withdraw his acceptance.
She was not too proud to ask him to reconsider, though. She had to calm Ackerby’s fury so that he wouldn’t act against her brother before she could convince him to return the priceless necklace.
“Lord Ackerby,” she said in a pleading tone. “I am exceedingly sorry about this misunderstanding, but surely you don’t wish to fight a duel?”
The baron merely gave her a savage glance as he brushed the dirt off the back of his coat. “Good day to you, Miss Ellis. You will hear from me when this is over, I assure you.”
Without another word, he snatched up his hat that had tumbled into the flower bed and then stalked off.
Utterly dismayed, Madeline stared after him until he was out of sight before turning on Rayne to voice her distress. “What the devil do you mean, calling him out? Are you mad?”
“Not in the least. It’s time someone taught that lecher manners.” A muscle in Rayne’s jaw clenched. “I suspected the worst when Freddie told me he saw Ackerby arrive here at the Hall, so I came at once. It was fortunate that I did.”
In a distracted corner of her mind, Madeline realized that Rayne had not entered the gardens from the Hall, but from a side gate that led from Riverwood. Crossing the grounds separating the two estates instead of taking the long way around the park would explain why he had arrived so quickly.
“There was nothing fortunate about it,” she exclaimed. “Not if your confrontation leads to one of you dying.” She took a deep breath, struggling to hold on to her composure. “I did not need you to play the white knight, Rayne. I could have handled Ackerby myself.”