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"Not now, love. I need to creep upstairs. We don't want anyone to come downstairs and find us in bed together, do we?" she murmured as she picked up her discarded nightdress from the floor. I reached out and stroked it, relishing the cool slinky feel of it.I reached for my watch. It was only five-thirty in the morning. Lucy was lying on her side watching us. Her dark hair was untidy. The bed sheet was d****d across her chest but she shuffled -- probably deliberately -- and it slipped to bare her uppermost breast, modest but a bigger then Aunt Anne's, and adorned with a gold ring through her nipple. Her blues eyes seemed to pierce me. I glanced at her narrow lips and recalled how they had closed around my manhood as she licked me clean after my orgasm.But my gaze returned quickly to my aunt. It had only been a few days since my lust for her had been kindled by the sight of her in that very nightdress. But now as I lay gazing at her it was with the dreadful consciousness that my desire. Captain Arthur is here. I pick up my gloves and cane to leave with him. I’m not leaving a note for Emily. What’s the point? Unkind people will tell her soon enough about my challenge and the result of the duel. Perhaps it might comfort her to know that I died defending her honour that she doesn’t seem to value. Our footsteps echo in the empty streets. Captain Arthur has sense enough to know that no words will help me. As soon as I asked him to be my second he knew that I would be going to my death. Nothing said now can change that. Major Simon has never accepted an apology, and I wouldn’t give one. If I did I would admit that Emily IS a whore. She’s not, and I would never say she is. I love her too much. Captain Arthur isn’t carrying pistols. Neither am I. I don’t own any. We’ll use Major Simon’s well proven pair. The seconds will choose which pistol each of the principals is to fire, and a few seconds later the duel will be over. Only another hundred yards and we’ll be at the site..
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