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fellow suddenly decided to cut up stiff? It was common knowledge that the lady had been generous with her favors even before embarking on a second marriage, and Bridgeport knew of at least three others who had enjoyed her in the months since, one as recently as last night. Wainright was no paragon himself.
    Questions continued to bedevil his mind long after the baron dragged his wife away. Nothing made sense.
    * * * *
    “What on earth made you choose swords rather than pistols?” demanded Carrington as they waited in a foggy dawn at Chalk Farm for Wainright and Albright to appear. “The man is an execrable marksman.”
    “Precisely,” agreed Bridgeport. “But his skills at fencing are roughly equal to my own. I have no desire to kill him, nor do I wish to be killed. With pistols, I would feel compelled to delope since I was clearly in the wrong. He might get lucky and hit me. But as we agreed that first blood will determine the winner, neither of us is likely to seriously damage the other.”
    “You are a strange man, Mark.”
    “Not at all. I feel blessed that he only challenged me. He might have chosen to shoot me where I lay. If I had had any inkling that he cared, I never would have touched his wife. And this may not be the end of it. She clearly craves variety. Both Devereaux and Millhouse have had her recently. Wroxleigh is still involved with her, and there may be others.”
    “That is something I had not heard.”
    Bridgeport snorted. “In addition to being free with her favors, she freely compares her lovers. I wonder if she is equally open with him. That could explain how he learned when and where to find us. But it makes it even odder that he would bother. If he cannot ignore her affairs, he will face either incarcerating her or bringing a divorce suit, in which case this may become even more public.”
    “Maybe he thinks to force you into taking her off his hands.”
    “Never. I would retire from society before doing anything that stupid.”
    “But you have a reputation for accepting anyone to wife.”
    Bridgeport sighed. “Reputations are damnable things. I suppose I must disabuse him of that notion. All else aside, I want an heir who carries my own blood.”
    Carrington dropped the subject of marriage, knowing it was not a topic his friend wished to recall. "Is it true that you had the audacity to finish with her before accepting Wainright’s challenge?”
    Bridgeport shrugged, but his eyes twinkled. “I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb – or skewered in this case.”
    Richard stomped his feet in a vain attempt to warm them. “Why did you take up with someone so recently married? That is not like you.”
    Mark pulled his greatcoat tighter. “She initiated the contact, two weeks ago.”
    “I don’t like the sound of that.”
    “Nor do I, now that I think on it. Hopefully, Wainright will be satisfied with pinking me.”
    “You will let him win then?” asked a surprised Carrington.
    “I must, as you would agree if you thought about it a moment. But I will make him work for the victory.”
    The arrival of a second carriage cut off Carrington’s response. Like Bridgeport, Wainright had eschewed servants this day. Albright was driving. Wainright was a slender gentleman only a few years older than Bridgeport. Normally of a placid temperament, today his eyes glared with anger and hatred.
    “Watch out,” warned Carrington as he removed Bridgeport’s jacket and cravat. “He seems determined to make an end of you. This affair smells worse every minute. Albright said something just now that makes me think that his wife was merely an excuse. I heard a rumor that he blames you for several recent gaming losses. Knowing you as I do, I had not believed the tales, but his eyes look crazed.”
    “Ah.” Bridgeport sent a rapier glance toward his rival. “So that is what this is about. I too had heard those stories. They are false, of course, so if that is his complaint, I will have to