Warning: This chapter is a major spoiler zone, so if you are interested in the story of our enslaved heiress and her handsome but cruel master, I REALLY recommend you start reading from the beginning!
Chapter 25: A Gentleman's Pact - Catherine's Perspective
His syllables hit like the thud of a beaten carpet.
"Rafael?"
I spot him from over the hill. He has chosen his most diplomatic navy jacket and a somber expression. A twisted part of me craves the splintering rage, the all-consuming pride of a defeated villain, but there is none in the man who stands before me. He is eager. Sincere. A man who believes that redemption can be found in my smile. That is what sickens me most.
"Catherine, I am overjoyed to see you. I- " He reaches for my hand.
I recoil.
For the briefest of moments, I had actually been enjoying Benjamin's company. Once beyond his overflowing prose, Benjamin seems to be an excellent listener. In time, I truly believe that we could become fond of each other. Between thin slices of cheese and warm bread, my future was beginning to feel bearable.
The viscount will not take that from me, too.
"Allow me to stop you before you embarrass yourself further. You and I have no business together."
He is the last person I want to see right now. As usual, he is the very source of my pain, the urgency behind my covert meetings. How am I to make a new life for myself while my tormentor persists?
Benjamin appears in the distance, clutching my purse.
"My love," he says, examining the stranger, "Is this gentleman bothering you?"
The viscount is less than pleased.
"This is who you're marrying? Catherine, you can't be serious. The man looks like an overstretched doll."
I cannot promise that I have not had thoughts of the same affect. Yet, coming from his mouth it feels increasingly unkind. All sounds of remorse have fled his lips.
"Rafael, just go. We will all be the better for it."
He straightens. "I cannot. There are important things left unsaid between us."
Benjamin cuts in, "If the lady does not appreciate your presence, then you best be on your way." His hand lingers at the filigree hilt at his waist.
"Or what?" says Rafael. "Will you defend these French lands, monsieur?"
"With great honor," Benjamin replies.
The viscount's fingers knot around his own scabbard. Any hope of de-escalation dies with these two idiots.
Without further warning, two rapiers are thrust into the light. The viscount takes a step forward, and Benjamin promptly levels his weapon. With a sharp clang, Rafael flicks it away. The blade rears back like an injured animal.
The viscount laughs coldly, "If it comes to blows, I warn you that you'll be at an even greater disadvantage."
"I believe, señor, that you are the one who has already spent his advantage."
In the next breath, Benjamin rushes toward him, blond hair spraying in the breeze, his legs surprisingly nimble.
For once in his life, the viscount attempts a more defensive approach. He digs his heels into the ground and bats away Benjamin's advances with even greater vigor. They continue thrashing past me, Benjamin slowly pushing Rafael towards lower ground.
It takes but a single missed parry before the viscount is nipped at the elbow. His jacket splits, but its dark color hides any trace of blood.
"Very well," says Rafael, teeth clenched. He pounces on my fiancé with renewed vigor, drawing Benjamin closer before immediately crowding his space. Benjamin panics and surrenders critical distance.
Rafael's superior training has started to outwit his arrogance. If anything, this minor injury adds fuel to the fire. At least, Benjamin has the good sense to flee back toward higher ground. I drag my skirts through the grass to keep up with them.
"Please, cease this madness," I say. Both of them are too damned pig-headed to hear anything above the blood rushing past their ears.
There is only one acceptable outcome to all of this. My family's enemy and my captor slain by a good and noble man, my soon-to-be husband. Unfortunately, this is not the most likely outcome. Benjamin winces as Rafael's blade brushes his inner thigh. Impressed as I am with Benjamin's resourcefulness, Rafael has a hunger for victory that surpasses almost all other things. He rapidly advances, each time more certain of his striking distance. He cannot be held off for much longer.
Benjamin lurches backward to avoid a particularly close swipe. He loses his footing, and the weapon is knocked easily from his hands. The viscount grins and kicks the rapier away.
"Do you surrender?" he says, his pointed tip touching Benjamin's collar.
Benjamin glances over at me, "Never to you, brute."
I sigh. The fool is going to get himself killed. Then, what would become of me?
Another round of portraits sent out to good families. Another gentleman romancing my parents. My ailment will be far too developed by the time I should have the pleasure of his acquaintance. It must be Benjamin. In both sonnet and action, what other soul could be half as devoted?
As the viscount deliberates on his killing blow, I unstrap the pistol from under my skirts. My birthday gift from Papa. It was intended for the occasion that my loyal fiancé was unable to protect me from the world's dangers.
I fear that this shall be the case more often than not. I fire the weapon in the air.
"This is over," I declare with the barrel. "Get up, the two of you."
Benjamin scrambles to his feet, and rushes to my side, recognizing the extraordinarily thin patience of a woman with a gun.
Of course, the viscount knows no such wisdom.
"I wouldn't have skinned him. I came here to apologize," he says, brushing off the dirt that has accumulated on his jacket during the fight. "Catherine, I have wronged you, but my steward wronged us both. I assure you that he has met justice."
