The Red Hot Earl Page 4

  “No, you just have to say which before you shoot,” someone other than Thornaby answered.

  “The middle one.” She lifted the pistol and fixed her aim. Eyeing the target—a piece of crockery atop a post—she squeezed the trigger.

  The crockery splintered and flew from the post to a chorus of cheers—from the spectators. And from one of the gentlemen. She turned. It was Ash, of course. He grinned and applauded.

  A rush of pleasure swept over Bianca. She dipped a curtsey.

  “Lucky shot,” Keldon said, staring at the pottery she’d ruined that now littered the ground around the post. He sounded shocked, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d seen.

  Irritation pricked her neck. “It wasn’t luck. Shall I demonstrate again?” she asked with mock innocence. “Perhaps the Manton?”

  Thornaby came toward her. “I think that’s enough for today. Thank you for the…demonstration.”

  Bianca bit back a retort. This was why marriage held no interest for her. She’d yet to meet a man who truly valued a woman as a person of equal merit and ability. Her gaze flicked to Ash, who was frowning at Thornaby.

  Feeling slightly mollified by Ash’s attitude and seeming support, she retreated toward the spectators, though she didn’t go all the way. It was a small rebellion at least.

  Thornaby looked at where she stood and frowned, but he didn’t tell her to move. Good, because she wasn’t going to.

  One of the footmen reloaded the lady’s muff pistol as Thornaby addressed the gentlemen. “We’ll have a first round, and everyone who hits the target will proceed to the second round in which we will all fire at the same target. Our shots will be marked, and the one who is closest to the center will be declared the winner.”

  There were six gentlemen and six pistols. Everyone moved toward the table and plucked up a weapon. Ash was the last to get there and was left with the lady’s muff. She so wanted him to best them, but she had no idea if he was a good shot.

  Thornaby inclined his head. “I put the lady’s pistol out for you. Thought it would be easier for you to manage. Didn’t realize an actual woman would want to shoot.” He pursed his lips with disdain, and though he’d lowered his voice for the second part, Bianca had still heard him. She was glad she’d stayed relatively near.

  “We’re willing to let you stand closer, Ruddy,” Moreley said toward Ash before looking at the other gentlemen and laughing.

  There was that name again. Ruddy had to be Ash, but why? His last name was Rutledge. Was it a nickname? She looked at his temple where his dark red hair peeked from beneath his hat. Ruddy—red.

  Ash checked his pistol. “That won’t be necessary, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

  The gentlemen took turns, and it happened that Ash went last. Bianca held her breath as he took his stance toward the target.

  “The one on the left,” Ash responded.

  Bianca had to listen carefully to hear all that they said. She was glad she hadn’t gone to stand with the others, for she wouldn’t be able to hear them at all.

  “That’s all that remains,” Keldon said with amusement.

  Ash turned a stony stare toward Keldon. “I am following the rules as directed.”

  Moreley chuckled. “You always did, even when it wasn’t to your benefit.”

  Ash’s jacket rippled across his shoulders, and his head tipped briefly to the side. Then he coughed.

  “Oh dear,” Keldon said. “Moreley, you’ve disturbed him. You know better than to do that.”

  Before anyone could say anything else, Ash fired, and the small pot shattered.

  Bianca exhaled and smiled in relief. “Well done!”

  Ash turned to look at her, but his features were inscrutable. He seemed very focused, which was good. She wanted him to win.

  “Looks like all six of us are progressing,” Thornaby pronounced.

  Three of the footmen finished reloading the weapons while the other two went to nail a target—a large piece of wood with a small mark in the center—to the posts. They returned to the table, and all was ready for the final round.

  How Bianca wished she could participate. It bloody wasn’t fair.

  “It’s a shame Lady Bianca can’t be included,” Ash said.

  One of the gentlemen, a portly fellow called Tealman, glanced toward her, then lowered his voice to say, “It wouldn’t be borne.” Bianca had to strain to hear. She didn’t bother glaring at him despite the anger bubbling in her veins.

  Ash chuckled. “As I said, I’m not bothered by the prospect of losing to a woman.”

  “Clearly, as evidenced by your pathetic loss this morning,” Moreley said with considerable disdain.

  Bianca wanted to put Moreley in front of the target.

  The first man took his place and fired. He struck several inches from the mark and dipped his head slightly as he turned back toward the others. Even so, they congratulated him.

  “You’ve a steady arm,” Keldon said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Better than some.” He inclined his head toward Ash.

  How dare he say that? Ash had hit the target! And he’d been steady. Bianca’s hands balled into fists at her side as she seethed with outrage.

  Moreley walked around the table to take his turn. “I have to say, Ruddy’s better than he was ten years ago. I daresay he wouldn’t have been able to lift the pistol without suffering a fit.” He looked back at Ash. “What sorcery have you invited to be so changed?”

  “Is he that changed, truly?” Keldon asked. “The speech is better, but I see he still twitches.”

  “Perhaps he drinks,” Thornaby offered.

  Moreley shook his head. “Doubtful. He could never hold his liquor at Oxford. Always a pathetic mess.” He lowered his voice and said something toward Thornaby and Keldon, smirking all the while. They laughed in response, and the other two gentlemen joined in. Ash, meanwhile, stood stoic. No, not quite stoic. That same ripple passed across his shoulders followed by the tip of his head and the stretching of his neck. And another cough.

  Bianca couldn’t hear what Moreley said, but was certain it was awful. Yes, he should definitely be the target. It was perhaps a good thing she wasn’t shooting.

  Moreley took his shot, and the result was slightly closer than the first gentleman. Tealman went next and hit near the edge of the wood. He muttered—probably a curse—under his breath and shook his head as he returned to the table.

  Keldon clasped Tealman’s bicep. “A good showing. Doubtful you’ll be the worst.”

  He didn’t look at Ash, but they all knew whom he was referring to. Bianca doubted anyone else could hear what was being said, but she could. Did they realize? Would they care? How could they treat Ash, who outranked them all, so horribly?

  And yet Ash stood there proud and unmoved. Well, almost unmoved. The twitches were coming at intervals now. He cleared his throat several times. She watched as he flexed his hands into fists, loosened them, then repeated the exercise.

  Keldon fired and nearly hit the target. The others clapped and cheered. Smugly, Keldon set his firearm on the table and looked to Ash. “Beat that.”

  “I will.” The words shot from his mouth as from one of the pistols in the competition. Ash twitched again, and this time, his arm shuddered. If that happened when he was shooting…

  No, it couldn’t. It wouldn’t. She willed it not to happen. Her father had often told her she had the will of ten men, that she could do anything she set her mind to. In some ways, she’d thought he was patronizing her, but he’d repeated the sentiment several times as he lay ill, and she knew he’d meant it. His belief in her had only increased her determination.

  She wanted Ash to know that someone believed in him too. “Of course you will!” she called, smiling broadly in encouragement.

  He looked at her, and she felt the weight of his gaze deep in her belly. It held her a moment, trapping her breath in her lungs, then he broke eye contact and walked toward the table.

  “Not yet
,” Keldon said, holding up a hand. “Thornaby first. You always did try to get ahead.”

  “You mean when I finished school before all of you?” It was a simple statement, and yet so powerful. Bianca resisted the urge to rush over and hug him with glee.

  “We weren’t in any hurry,” Moreley said. “But then, we enjoyed school and had each other.”

  Keldon sneered. “Aye, that we did. And we still do.” There was no mistaking the way in which their words and demeanor excluded Ash. What on earth had he ever done to them? Or were they just cruel?

  “Your turn!” Moreley called to Thornaby.

  The viscount took his place amidst words of encouragement and a round of applause from the spectators. Because he was the host, presumably. Bianca hoped the gun misfired. Horribly.

  It didn’t.

  The ball wasn’t quite as close to the center as Keldon’s, but it put him in second place. This was met with more cheers. Finally, it was Ash’s turn.

  “Sure you don’t need to move closer?” Thornaby asked. “None of us would mind. You seem a mite shaky. Wouldn’t want your bullet to go wide.”

  “Egads, no,” Moreley said, shaking his head. “Can’t have that. I insist you move closer.”

  Bianca edged toward them because the volume of their conversation was dropping and she didn’t want to miss what they said.

  “Or maybe he shouldn’t shoot at all,” Keldon said, looking at Ash with mock pity. Or maybe it was real pity. Bianca couldn’t tell, nor did she think it particularly mattered. Either one was rude and wholly unnecessary.

  She stalked to them, uncaring how they might react. “Oh stop it, and let him shoot. If he’s shaky, it’s because you’re all behaving like jackasses.”

  They all gaped at her. Save Ash, who gazed at her in open appreciation.

  “Back away, Lady Bianca,” Moreley said sharply. “This is no place for you.”

  Keldon frowned. “Indeed, there’s no call to behave in such a fashion. What would your brother say? Come, step away.” He moved toward her, his arm outstretched.

  “Don’t touch her.” Ash growled the words, and the air changed. The taunting and mockery gave way to something far more sinister.

  Moreley stepped toward Ash, his lip curling. “And what will you do about it?” He glanced toward Keldon as if urging him to continue.

  And that was precisely what Keldon did. He took Bianca’s elbow and began to steer her away.

  The next actions happened so quickly that Bianca had to review them in her mind several times to track how it had all happened.

  Though he was farther back from the targets than anyone else had been—behind the table, in fact—Ash lifted his arm and shot at the target, hitting it dead center. Then he dropped the weapon on the table and turned to grab Keldon by the arm.

  He dragged Keldon, whose jaw dropped, away from Bianca. “I told you not to touch her, you son of a bitch.” Again, the words exploded from his mouth. This was quickly followed by the largest tremor yet. His shoulders twitched, and his neck stretched, thrusting his head to the side. This happened three times in quick succession. Or maybe it was four.

  Ash opened his mouth, his face turning a shade of red that outshone his hair, then snapped it closed. He let go of Keldon and, without a look at anyone else, stalked toward the house.

  Everyone stared after him. Bianca wanted to follow, to soothe him, to tell him none of them mattered. And to celebrate his victory.

  She turned to the target and spoke loudly so that everyone, including Ash, would hear. “He won.”

  “He cheated,” Moreley groused.

  Bianca swung her head toward him, anger blazing through her. “How?”

  Moreley sniffed. “He didn’t stand in the right place.”

  “You were going to let him move closer! Now you take issue with him shooting farther away?” A growl started low in her throat. “You’re just angry because he was better than all of you.”

  Thornaby straightened his coat. “Never mind. He forfeited with his behavior. I’m sorry you had to witness that, Lady Bianca.”

  “I’m sorry I had to witness your ill behavior.”

  The viscount’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened in surprise. He recovered quickly, his lips forming an easy, false smile. “You witnessed a group of old friends having fun recalling their youth.”

  Bianca snorted in disgust. “You’re awful.” And to think she’d wanted to ask him to host the St. Stephen’s Day party! She couldn’t imagine him wanting to, not with his small mind and petty behavior. It didn’t matter—she wasn’t going to ask. She’d find another way.

  Turning on her heel, she started toward the house. A moment later, Poppy caught up to her. “Wait for me, Bianca!”

  Bianca slowed but didn’t stop. When Poppy came abreast of her, she said, “I want to leave.”

  “What happened? We couldn’t hear what was going on.”

  “Thornaby and his friends were behaving horribly toward Ash. He, er, lost his temper—as he should have. In fact, it’s a wonder he didn’t lose his patience sooner. I would have.” She thought of his odd twitches and coughing and of what Poppy had told her earlier about how he’d been before he’d gone to school. Bianca didn’t remember him doing any of that before.

  They went into the house, and Bianca didn’t stop. She continued through on her way to the stairs.

  “It looked like you did,” Poppy observed. “It appeared as though you were lecturing them.”

  Bianca glanced at her sister. “So what if I was? They deserve to be lectured. They were horrid to Ash.”

  “You can’t keep calling him Ash,” Poppy murmured.

  Stopping at the base of the stairs, Bianca turned toward her sister. “Why? I’ve known him since I was a child. We’re friends.”

  Poppy gave her a beleaguered stare. “You know why. It’s not…seemly.”

  Bianca rolled her eyes and started up the stairs. “I want to go home. After I see Ash.” She stressed his name on purpose.

  When they reached the top, Poppy touched her arm. “You are always looking for trouble. In this case, let it be. At least for a while. The earl appeared upset when he returned to the house. And he shot that gun in a rather unsafe manner. I don’t know if you should see him at all.”

  “He knew precisely what he was doing.” And yet, he’d clearly been upset, his body twitching, his face turning red. Ruddy… Her heart ached for him.

  “I’m not sure that’s an endorsement.”

  Bianca wouldn’t stop her defense of him. “He was being perfectly safe.”

  “Bianca, just take a few minutes. Please.”

  Groaning, Bianca scowled but relented. She stalked toward their chamber. Once inside, while Poppy went into the dressing room, she asked her maid to find out where Ash’s room was located.

  Bianca paced while she awaited Donnelly’s return. She wanted Ash to know that she stood with him, that she was going to leave the party before dinner and hoped he would do the same. She also wanted to ask why they treated him so poorly. Would he tell her?

  She sensed there was more about his life in London that he hadn’t revealed. But then why should he tell her everything? Indeed, why should he tell her anything?

  Because they were friends. Or they had been. She thought about the way in which he’d reacted to Keldon touching her. He’d fired the pistol at the target almost without looking and hit it square. Then he’d pulled Keldon away from her, and she could have sworn she’d seen malice in his eyes. The emotion had flickered so quickly, she couldn’t be sure.

  Donnelly entered, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m sorry, my lady, but his lordship has left.”

  Bianca stared at her. “From Thornhill?”

  The maid nodded.

  Of course he’d gone. He’d been upset and rightfully so. She planned to go too. “Donnelly, pack our things. We’re leaving.”

  Donnelly blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

  Poppy came from
the dressing room. “Did I hear you say we’re leaving?”

  “Yes, I told you that outside.”

  “I didn’t think you were serious.”

  Bianca pursed her lips. “I’m always serious.”

  “Indeed, you are,” Poppy murmured. “Let us go, then. I can’t say I’ll be sorry, especially after what you told me. Did I hear that Lord Buckleigh has also gone?”

  Bianca nodded, her mind already moving five steps beyond their conversation.

  “It sounds as if he should have. Good for him.”

  It was, but now Bianca had to find a way to get to Buck Manor. The entire Christmas season depended on it.

  Sometimes it was hell to be a young unmarried lady.

  Chapter 4

  As soon as Ash arrived at Buck Manor, he immersed himself in a hot bath and drank a glass of brandy. Both soothed his mind, even while his soul raged. He’d been a fool to think those men had changed. And yet, he had.

  His disease had been much worse in his youth. He’d mastered the twitches and vocal interruptions as he’d gotten older, with great effort and because the behaviors had just seemed to lessen. Right around the time he’d started fighting.

  “Shall I trim your hair, my lord?” Harris offered.

  “Yes, I suppose you should.” Ash covered himself in a banyan and sat down for the valet to do his work.

  Harris set to work with the shears, working quickly and efficiently, as he did with all things.

  “You are astonishingly good at your post,” Ash said, looking in the mirror situated over the dressing table in front of him.

  “Thank you, my lord. I never could have imagined how much I enjoy being a valet. I never quite fit in as a footman, and I definitely didn’t suffice as a groom.”

  “Is that where you started?” Ash asked. “I hadn’t realized.”

  “At another estate, yes. The other grooms weren’t very welcoming. When I left, I learned that I’d been given a position they’d hoped would go to one of their brothers. I believe they ensured I wasn’t successful at my position. I have no regret since things have worked out rather well.” He smiled as he continued to snip and style Ash’s hair.