Authors: Beth Trissel
“Hell
,
” he muttered.
“
You’re an odd bird, Wentworth.
She looks damn good to m
e.
” Lyle
swiped
his blade
dramatically
.
“Help yourself. You
two
deserve each other.”
Julia observed
Nelle’s
approach with the wa
r
iness
of a cat eyeing a strange dog
entering its
’
territory
.
Nelle
slid her eyes to Julia,
dressed in flowing white
.
“Who a
re you? The virgin maid?” she
quipped, then turned her attention to Will
.
“What’s all the hoopla about
outside
?
Why all the yellow ribbons?”
Will angled his head
at Lyle.
“
The Aussie
here dug up
an old skeleton.”
Nelle
examined Lyle curi
ously.
“D
inosaur or something?”
“Oh, he’s extinct, all righ
t
.
The
Wentworths
aren’t overly hospitable
to their guests
.”
Grandmother Nora
spoke out
from her usual
spot in the high-backed chair.
“We’re going to be a sight more inhospitable if you don’t s
top pinning that murder on us.
Cameron had it coming, anyway.
The man was guilty as sin.
”
Lyle lowered his voice
an octave
.
“You can’t prove that.”
“Nor can you,” the Wentworth matriarch countered.
Nelle
slid
her quizzical gaze
from the glowering Aussie to the indignant old lady
.
“Have I come at a bad time
?”
Full agreement flooded Julia’s
expressive
face.
Voicing just such a response was o
n the tip of Will’s tongue.
But
Grandmother Nora motioned
Nelle
to her with an aged hand.
“For a tour
, you have
.
But sit here and watch the rehearsal.”
Nelle
settled
her
ample derrière in
a seat
.
“I adore these plays you all put on, such
folksy,
down home
theater
.”
She fluttered
polished
red nails at her father.
“Hi Dad.”
Douglas cleared his throat and lifted uneasy fingers.
“You could even perform for
schools and retirement homes.
They’d love
it, especially the fencing,”
Nelle
wore on
,
oblivious of the
mounting
tension in the hall
.
A slight rigidity tightened Nora’s mouth
.
Will saw it coming
––
everyone did
––
except
Nelle
.
“I reside in a retirement community
, Miss Patterson.
We app
reciate serious theater
such as this, not homey drivel.”
“Certainly
.
I didn’t mean you weren’t
––
”
Nelle
attempted
.
Nora inspected her fr
om beneath hooded eyes. “Quite.
Now if you don’t mind, we’ll get on with it.”
Nelle
slunk down in her chair.
“Please
do
.”
The cane tapped
in signal to begin
.
“Make this duel
appear as genuine
as possible
, gentlemen
. Give us a real show.
”
No problem.
Will crossed bla
des with Lyle’s shining steel.
His heart thudded as he pressed
his adversary
hard
, driving him back. E
ach
man
vied
to overcome the other.
They
tested each other’s strength then
broke apart, chests heaving.
Lyle was
a
force to be reckoned with.
So was Will
.
Marv, the violinist, and his mate,
Rodge
, on the trumpet, played dramatically at significant intervals.
Will tuned out the musical accompaniment and studied his opponen
t with barely concealed anger.
“‘Come on, sir,’” he inv
ited with Hamlet’s line, also
his own.
Eyes glittering,
Lyle swept him a mocking bow.
“‘Come, my lord,’” he answered, as the outraged Laertes.
That required little acting either.
Will c
urved his lips in a
smile
only a
foolish man would disregard.
T
hen he sprang, slic
ing his blade at Lyle’s sword.
If this were a real duel, he’d slice it at Lyle’s hea
d or plunge it into his heart.
This was only a performance, he reminded himself.
Lyle struck back w
ith a powerful downward swoop.
Will brought his b
lade up and blocked that blow.
He swung
higher.
The clash of steel sang
out again and again.
Hamlet was to have the upper hand in this scene, and Will didn’t give Lyle an inch. He dodged the rapier
, cutting at him,
and spun around. Back he dove at Lyle. The wicked grin egged Will on and he struck har
d. Let Lyle fend for himself.
Cole had been far too graciou
s to his treacherous ancestor.
Likely, one of Cole’s friends had slain the blackguard
, Cameron,
in secret and buried him on the spot.
Will side-stepped Lyle’s swing and thrust him in the gut with his e
lbow. “‘You but dally, Laertes.
I pray yo
u, pass
with your best violence,
’
” h
e
provoked his rival
in Hamlet’s lingo.
“‘Say you so?
Come on,’” Lyle grunted
, rising to the
bait
.
Gleaming steel whistled through the air as Will
swung the blade over his head.
Lyle parr
ied that stroke, and the next.
They circled the room eyeing each other, thrusting here an
d there.
A
s a
lert as a panther stalking its prey,
Will never took
his focus from Lyle’s cunning face.
He saw his opening and dashed forward, wielding his sword.
The clang of metal rang out.
Ly
le returned stroke for stroke.
But
Will increased t
he pace of the sparking steel.
Faster, faster, he rained blows down on Lyle.
The Aussie jumped aside and ba
rely cleared the biting point.
Will lunged again, thrusting his blade and forcing Lyle back
, back, back, toward the wall.
Skill he
didn’t even realize he had
welled up in him like a fount of strength.
Nelle
gasped loudly
.
“For God’s sake
––
enough! You’ll kill him!”
Julia cried.
Grandmother Nora’s response was the exact opposite
.
“Don’t be ridiculous, girl.
They’re only sparring and well done, too.
Bravo!
”
Douglas m
opped his glistening forehead.
“I’m glad the king doesn’t have to fence.”
“No,” Nora assured him
, patting his hand
.
“Hamlet poisons his u
ncle and then runs him through.
But he had it c
oming,” she added with a significant
look at Lyle
.
More k
nocks
on the back door intruded into the evening.
“What now?” their harried director demanded
.
“Go see who it is, Jon. Polonius is dead by now anyway
,” she said, indicating his part
in the rehearsal was at an end.
Nelle
jumped up.
“I’l
l go
.
”
Nora
gave a distracted nod
, and
Nelle
fled.
Will
hardly noticed
her retreat
.
He glared at Lyle.
“Had enough, or do you want another go?”
L
yle jabbed his thumb at Julia.
“Don’t want poor
Ophe
coming unglued and taking a dive i
n the river.
Not that she ain’t
doing ju
st grand in your care,” he said
sarcastically.
Will took in Julia’s pale face and the dark shadows under her
swollen
eyes. Hurt still lingered in their troubled de
pths.
“She will.”
Lowerin
g his sword, he walked to her.
After today’s chaos, they’d only had that brief moment this morning f
or any kind of reconciliation.
Last night’s wretched exchange
must still plague
her, and
he knew
she was frightened by events.
Will saw that, too, in her eyes.
Not caring who looked on, he closed his free arm around her w
aist and drew her against him.
Julia laid her head on
his chest and he felt her warm
breath through the white cotton of his colonial style shirt.
Grandmother Nora rumbled
disapprovingly in her throat.
“Do contain these public dis
plays of affection, sir.
I’ve not yet given my full
blessing to this match.
The poor girl’s perfect for playing Ophelia, but seems a bit addled to bear the future heir of Foxleigh.”
Julia tense
d in his embrace
as he shot
back, “Oh, for Christ’s sake.
You make it sound like you’re choosing the next queen of the British Empire
––
”
“Channel Three News!” a woman said brightly.
The next thing Will knew, a news crew complete with a cameram
an had pushed their way past
Nelle
and
swarmed
into the house.
Grandmother Nora arched gray brows. “I beg your pardon?”
The blond anchorwoman clicked over the floor in red and white stilettos that coordinate
d with her size four red suit.
She turned heavily outlined eyes at his grandmother and spoke animatedly through scarlet
lips.
“I’m Betty
Bauer with Channel Three News.
We’re here to do a story on the skeleto
n unearthed at Foxleigh today.
Is it true the man was murdered
here
two hundred years ago?”
Someone must’ve
blabbed, and Will ran his critical
inspection
over the room. Detective Williams had asked him to keep the find under wraps until th
ey’d completed the excavation. The word was out now.
Crowds of visitors and news crews from all over the
state would converge on them.
Hell, even the whole country if the story w
ere big enough.
Archeologists would probably turn up to dig into the past.
They’d never have a moment’s peace again.
Nora replied stiffly
.
“It’s likely the unfortunate gentleman met with a brutal end, though I mu
st point out that the
Wentworth
s
have grievances of their own in that regard.”