Dangerous Gentleman

Dunwoody, Southern England, 1834 Phillip Rothembow was dead. None of the mourners gathered around the grave had expected his demise to occur precisely this way, although there were certainly those who had wagered he would not live to see his thirty-third year. They never dreamed he would die by forcing the hand of his very own cousin. And they all agreed--rather adamantly in front of the justice of the peace--that Adrian Spence, the Earl of Albright, did not have a choice--it was either kill or be killed. Still, some of the mourners privately argued (at the public house, before the services commenced) that Albright might have avoided the confrontation had he not asked Rothembow to stop cheating. Not that anyone could dispute that Rothembow's cheating was legion, or that Albright had been a virtual saint of patience through the years. But he might have thought twice before accusing his cousin before a roomful of people. That sentiment was met with the equally insistent one that as Rothembow had been cheating so very blatantly, he had obviously been asking to be called on it. A few tried to put forth that Rothembow had been simply too drunk to know what he was doing, particularly evidenced by his calling Albright a coward. Of all men, the Earl of Albright was the last one any of them would have called a coward, and furthermore, they argued, what could Albright have done? A man could hardly have his character challenged in the face of so many peers and not avenge his honor. Not one of the mourners could fault Albright for accepting Rothembow's drunken challenge. Not one of them could believe that either man had actually gone through with it. So it was the collective opinion of the mourners that no matter how Rothembow and Albright came to be standing in that yellow field, Albright had had no choice. And he had done the honorable thing by deloping. Rothembow, who was still staggering drunk that morning, had responded by firing on him (a sin so great that the men shuddered each time they recalled it) and missing badly. Yet that paled in comparison to what Rothembow did next, and the mourners were divided on the subject of Lord Fitzhugh's culpability. Having recently obtained a fine double-barreled German pistol inlaid with mother-of-pearl, Lord Fitzhugh had felt compelled to wear it in his new leather holster for the entire weekend in the event the party was set upon by thieves or an otherwise marauding band of ne'er-do-wells. So confident was he in his new pistol that he was in the habit of draping his coat in a manner that clearly displayed the firearm. Which was exactly how he was wearing it when Rothembow grabbed it from its holster. He had lunged for that pistol--primed for any event, naturally--and had fired a second time at Albright, clearly intending to kill him. Albright had to defend himself, and most agreed it was a bloody miracle that he was able to retrieve his own pistol and fire before his cousin gunned him down with a third shot. Fitzhugh had been the fool and Rothembow the coward--although one mourner noted that the wild look in Rothembow's eyes suggested he was perhaps more deranged than cowardly. That, naturally, had prompted another round of debate as to whether Rothembow had actually meant Albright to kill him. It was hardly a secret among their set that Rothembow was drowning in debt, having squandered his funds and his life on excessive drink and Madam Farantino's women, and was seemingly bent on self-destruction. That notwithstanding, it was inconceivable to them that a man might want to end his own life so desperately he would go to such extraordinary measures. Inconceivable, but apparently possible. Now, at the gravesite, all of the mourners who had come to witness the fantastic end to their hunting trip in the country covertly watched Albright and his friends beneath the brims of their hats as the vicar droned on. "Know ye iLondon, Julia is the author of 'Dangerous Gentleman' with ISBN 9780440235613 and ISBN 0440235618.