Prologue
History Repeats Itself
“Anthony?” The shock in Ambrose’s voice was unmistakable, though in hindsight Anthony wasn’t really sure if it was his twin brother speaking or a beautiful woman with facial hair.
He was that foxed.
“Can you hear me?” His brother’s voice was something akin to a loud screeching, causing a resounding shriek to pump through his ears until he thought he might be fit for Bedlam.
“‘Course you can’t hear me,” Ambrose scoffed then waved away the proprietor. “Never saw you drink so much in my entire life, and that includes the time when you tried to drink Wilde under the table at the annual debutante ball. Those women sure hadn’t seen a man dance a waltz with such…” He paused as if trying to think of the correct way to say something insulting. “…Reckless abandon, that’s for sure.” His twin patted his back. “Now tell me, why is it that I find you here, of all places, drinking away your sorrows? Aren’t you to be fighting Wilde in a duel?”
Anthony lifted his pounding head to glare into his brother’s eyes. “I’ll kill him.”
“That’s the spirit.” Ambrose motioned for a drink and took a seat. “Now, what is this about? Did he steal your horse? Give you another dirty look? Oh no, wait. I have it.” He snapped his fingers in the air. “Did he sneeze into your favorite whiskey again? I do know how you hate that. It’s so inconvenient to have to pour good whiskey out, wouldn’t you agree?” Ambrose winked and threw back the contents of his glass.
Anthony steadied himself in his seat and fought against the anger pouring through his body at alarming speeds. “He stole her.”
“So we are talking about your horse, then?” Ambrose seemed relieved as he relaxed against the back of his chair.
“No, it’s not about a blasted horse. He stole her! The woman I was supposed to marry. Stole her right from under me, like the sod he is.”
“So you were, er… on her… and he… um…” Ambrose flushed.
Anthony swore. “No, you idiot. Not in that… capacity.” He surprised himself by being able to think of large words, let alone use them, in his inebriated state. “I saw them. Together… kissing.”
“Well, I do hope you alerted the Bow Street runners. We can’t have rakes running about town deflowering women, if you get my meaning.”
“This isn’t a jest, Ambrose! It wasn’t some woman!”
“Let me guess.” His brother leaned in. “You’re jealous because Wilde kissed a girl you had deep feelings for. Well, plenty of fish in the sea, my friend!” He hit him on the back, setting Anthony teetering off the chair.
Mustering as much strength as his aching body would allow, Anthony rose to his full height. Impressive that it was, he knew his body would pay for it later. “I love her!” he announced loudly.
Silence followed in the establishment.
Ambrose’s eyes widened. “Just whom are we talking about?”
“Lady Bridget. I love her, and Wilde was kissing her… I’ll kill him.”
Just then the door blew open. Ambrose turned around with a grin on his face. “Here we go. I do love duels. Did you know…” he addressed the proprietor, “we were here just last year under similar circumstances? Only it was my brother and I fighting a duel, and, well, I didn’t exactly go through with it…”
“Ah.” The gentleman smiled. “I remember the story. Tell me, how is the missus?”
“Oh fine, fine.” Ambrose shrugged and turned toward Wilde.
Wilde’s eyes were trained on Anthony. A wild fervor of hate that Anthony had never seen before in his friend seemed to radiate from him.
“I’ll kill you for ruining my only chance with her! And I will defend her honor!” Wilde yelled, pushing people out of the way as he blazed a path toward Anthony.
“Me?” Anthony puffed up his chest. “If your chances are ruined it is only because she has seen you for who you truly are! It is I who has been wronged! How dare you steal her from me!”
“Steal?” Wilde repeated, shocking Anthony. He had never seen his friend’s composure rattled so much.
“I never stole a thing in my life! If you’re looking for the thief and scoundrel, you have no further to look than the mirror, my friend!”
“Gentlemen, please.” Ambrose stepped in, obviously offended, considering he saw the same reflection in his mirror.
“Why don’t we settle this away from the crowds, eh? Without pistols?”
“I’ll fight for her,” Wilde said plainly.
Anthony closed his eyes against the vision of Wilde kissing the only woman he’d ever loved. Of her wild red hair flowing down her back as Wilde smiled and pulled her close.
“Gemma is mine!”
“Bridget is mine!” The men announced the names at the same time and then looked at one another.
“Interesting.” Ambrose laughed. “Say, I think I’ll have another.” He waved his glass at the proprietor and returned to his seat.
“Gemma? But I thought it was…” Anthony’s voice trailed off, his chest suddenly tight. He had sent her a letter, told her that he wanted nothing more to do with her. That he could never love a woman he didn’t trust… and she thought…
Anthony cursed. The room swayed… and he fell into blackness, hoping to stay there for eternity. For what point was there in living — when one wished to be dead?
Chapter One
En Garde
Four unfortunate weeks earlier
“Dance with her!” Cordelia ordered Anthony, poking him square in the chest with her gloved hand.
“Cordelia, you’re making a scene!” He cursed and felt the heat of embarrassment spread down his neck. What he wouldn’t do to be rid of his sister-in-law and her embarrassing taunts. She was just as bad as Ambrose.
“I swore I would revere the day I saw my brother blush!” Ambrose’s solo applause brought Anthony a renewed sense of ill will toward his twin brother, which must have registered on his face. “Well done, my dear. Anthony looks quite put out.”
“I assure you, I’m fine.” Anthony cleared his throat to mask his indignation.
Just then Wilde approached the group. “Has he worked up his nerve yet, or are we still in the coaxing stage?”
Traitor.
“Still coaxing,” Ambrose and Cordelia answered in unison. Ambrose gave his wife a wink and pulled her far too close. Anthony knew they were happy, but must they flaunt it before him and the rest of society?