Affair of Pretense

Twenty-one

It was still dark when three gentlemen ambled around a heath near the marshes of Battersea Fields. They all wore sombre coats of blacks and greys and appeared as though they were, judging from their equally sombre countenances, fairly troubled of what was about to take place, except for the one gentleman who looked utterly indifferent to the occasion. A while later, they were joined by another figure, and upon recognizing it, one of them cursed softly, "Tare n' hounds, it's Langford!"

Mr Axel Branden, betraying the slightest degree of surprise, nodded to the newcomer with a twist of a smile. "My dear lad, come to cheer your little cousin, aren't you?" he inquired drily.

William Langford nodded to the gentlemen and favoured Mr Branden a stoic gaze. "I heard talk yesterday and would like to be around should there be any mishap that happened to my cousin."

"There's bound to be: it's a duel after all! But you surprise me! I was not aware of this cousinly affection before. What gives?"

"Don't get me wrong," returned William with some annoyance. "Collin is foolish to have embroiled himself in this muddle, but I'd as lief not let you put a hole through him—not if we can help it!"

Mr Branden chuckled. "You'd think our past association would move me to withdraw? We might have been thick as thieves in our—er, previous enterprise, but to ask me to pull back now would be the height of absurdity. Unless you can deliver twice the amount of what he owes me plus the interest, I don't swallow insults for nothing, my dear Mr Langford!"

"I know: I am merely asking you to miss your aim, that's all," said William bluntly.

"As a marksman, you wound my pride by the mere suggestion of it," he sneered, brandishing his pistol at the younger man's face. "Moreover, need I remind you that your cousin was the one who called me out? I am only perfectly willing to oblige his wishes, you know."

"He might be thoughtless and rash, but I know Collin to be a man who doesn't really mean what he says most of the time; and unless he's under extreme provocation, I don't think he would have called somebody out. Hell, he can't even handle the sight of too much blood!" observed William depressingly. "I heard he'd had too much drink that night—can't handle his cups very well, you know. He must be feeling dreadful now that he has full possession of his senses to realize what he's done."

"Well, he's certainly taking his damn time," grunted Mr Fullham, a lanky blonde gentleman of morose disposition who appeared a few years younger than his principal. "And so is Davey! Can't do if we have to wait for another fifteen minutes or so. The sun will be up soon. Just tell Dresdenham to settle and we'd be in our breakfast tables in no time, for God's sake!"

"That would be troublesome, wouldn't it?" remarked Branden in contemplation.

"Should he fail to put up an appearance in five minutes," interrupted William, his tone serious, "I will stand his proxy."

Mr Fullham gaped at him. "You can't just decide something like that, damn it!"

"Oh, can't I?" he retorted acerbically.

"Take a damper, the both of you!" recommended Mr Branden calmly. "We shall await Mr Collin Dresdenham's pleasure. If he does not appear in the next ten minutes, then I shall have the satisfaction of duelling with Mr Langford here instead."

Mr Fullham gaped again. "The devil you would!"

Mr Branden held up a finger at his companion. "Now, Mr Fullham, you're too rigid by half. Tender though his age maybe, but through our acquaintanceship, I've had the opportunity to assess Mr Langford's marksmanship in the past and I must tell you that his skill is almost equal to mine. I suppose I have to settle with the worthier opponent, don't you think?"