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Fenwick had revealed the news to Helena most reluctantly, and had tried in vain to extract from her a promise that she would not act upon it. She'd long known him for the most spineless of fortune hunters, and it was easy to extract promises of her own once she threatened to reveal him and call off their marriage. The prospect of wedding him seemed all the more revolting after his attempt to offer comfort and, in his words, 'pull her out of this little miff'. For all of that nonsense, she hadn't been able to get a full story from him, other than that her foolish cousin Reginald had gone off with a dueling party in quite high spirits.
Fenwick's attempts to assure her that any attempt to reach the chosen dueling grounds in time would be futile only spurred Helena onwards. Reggie's driver Armstrong had still been at the club, and his shock at her news had only heightened her own anxiety. He was her cousin's most loyal servant, and had been with the family for years. He'd known them both since they were children - it hadn't been difficult to convince him to carry her towards Wimbledon Common. The notion that she was concerned for Reggie's health and should like to care for him were he injured in the business seemed reasonable, under the circumstances. Helena's true feelings were more mixed – worried, but also frustrated, angry, and relieved all at the same time.
Surely, Claudia had been the cause of the duel. Fenwick had dropped Lord Coleman's name, whether he'd intended to or not; it was well understood, if rarely discussed, who had been the cause of Claudia's ruin and social exile. Helena, who knew far more of the circumstances than would have been considered proper, had been campaigning for some form of redress for her friend for months. Coleman was worse than a common rake – he put on a very proper manner, and his form of depravity was so unspeakable that any lady who even broached it was doomed to ruination. Claudia was proof. Helena had only been spared worse censure for her association through the timeliness of her greatly regretted engagement. She had long given up on any form of justice. Losing Reggie as well would improve nothing.
The moon shone high overhead, catching on the sails of the windmill that marked the location of the dueling grounds and providing ample light for the evening's nasty business. Helena and Armstrong proceeded on foot through the paths, though both would have preferred to do so alone. But a driver was a poor enough escort for a lady of her standing as it was, and Armstrong could never have allowed himself to abandon her in such a dismal setting. They expected to come upon only the aftermath of the duel, given Fenwick's equivocating on the subject, and had been surprised not to have encountered the parties returning in carriages of their own.
Helena was about to voice doubts in the accuracy of her fiancé's information when a shot rang out nearby, followed quickly by a second, and a tumult of excited voices. She rushed towards them, leaving Armstrong calling after her.
"He's dead!" The exclaiming voice seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. Helena pressed onward, fear and concern rising in her breast. If her hopes that Reggie's misplaced affection for Claudia would spur him to action had brought him to his end, she would never forgive herself.
The shadow of the windmill gave way to open ground. Now the owner of the voice became clear: it was Halesbury, one of Coleman's chief toadies. The quickest to laud his master's fine character and leap to his defense at even the mildest criticism; he was a natural second. Now he knelt on the ground, Coleman's form limp in his arms.
Could it be? Shock racked her, and Helena was startled by the intensity of the anger and satisfaction that followed. But she still had her cousin to think of, and she forced herself to turn away to the other party.
Reggie was there, hale and hearty, recovering the pistol from the other party: he had been involved, but as a second himself. But then who was the duelist? Who had shot Coleman? She did not recognize the figure who leaned unsteadily on her cousin's arm. He was finely dressed, but his head hung as though he were pained, and shadows obscured his features. Helena hurried over. If Coleman had been killed, they would need to make a quick escape.
"-to get you away from here," her cousin was saying.
"I can help."
"Helena!" Reggie's face looked pale, and she doubted it was only the moonlight. "You…"
"Shouldn't be here? I was worried, Reg. I thought you were dueling. But I am here, and so is Armstrong. If we need to get away, we should go." Someone could tell her what had happened, too, but first things first.
"I need to be sure of it, if he's dead." The duelist's voice was steely, and he gripped his arm where Coleman's shot had landed. He lifted his head, and the moonlight washed across his features. It was Claudia! She'd shorn her dark curls and tried to disguise her features, but Helena saw straight through her masquerade. Claudia's grey eyes flashed with determination, but she didn't seem surprised to see Helena.
Did Reggie know? He must. He looked panicked. "Halesbury's called for a surgeon," he said, "but the constables will be coming too."
Helena took her friend's elbow gently. "Come. Reggie can stay and deal with them. We’ll take his carriage and head out of the city. News will follow soon enough."
Claudia nodded, glancing at Helena with a look that said more than words could manage. Reggie was less agreeable, looking aghast.
"I can't allow it! This can't…"
His protestations could never hold against the pair when they were united, and there was no other obvious solution. He pursed his lips, looking more concerned than ever as the women turned to hurry back towards the carriage and its driver.
"Murderer!" Halesbury called after them, stalking quickly across the field. "I'll see you hanged for this, whelp! To murder a man over a matter of cards, it's unspeakable!"
Helena tried to lead her friend away, but Claudia wouldn't be budged until she stood face to face with Coleman's second. She stared coolly, unmoved by his posturing rage or his clenched fists. "More than a matter of cards, you'll find." Despite the razor's end of anger that laced her tone, her voice was her own. Perhaps it was this, or how the moonlight illuminated her features in close quarters, that sparked Halesbury's gasp of recognition. He stepped back, struck speechless.
"You cad," Claudia hissed at him, "I'd shoot you too, but it gives me more satisfaction to think that you will have to live with yourself after this."
With that, she spun around, letting Helena finally lead her away. Armstrong frowned when he realized his master wasn't coming, but he listened to Helena's urgent instructions without too-close scrutiny of Claudia. He helped the pair get settled, and apologized for the bumpy ride to come as he directed the horses south.
Alone at last, Claudia, slumped against Helena, shaking silently. Helena held her against her chest, smoothing her hair.
"My dear, dear friend," she whispered as a sob finally escaped Claudia's throat. "I don't know how this all came to pass… You're so brave, so beautiful, so strong… You're safe here, safe with me, it's all right, my dear…." She continued to soothe, letting the strong emotions run their course.
"I did it… for all of us." Claudia wiped her face as she brought herself under control, then winced.
"You did, and… you must be in shock." Helena hadn't forgotten the wound, but there had been little to do about it then, and not much more now that they were underway. She helped Claudia sit up so she could have a close look. It had bled a fair amount, but seemed to have stopped for now. She was no expert, but she thought the ball had grazed rather than stuck. It still might need stitching, but that would have to wait. For now, she bound it with the silk handkerchief that Claudia wore, taking what care she could in the jostling carriage. The coat, which Helena now recognized as an old one of Reggie's, was surely ruined, and the shirt as well.
"I'm only shocked that no one had the nerve to call him out before," Claudia said as Helena worked, some of the spirit on display earlier returning. "I feel… a great relief."
Helena nodded, biting her lip. "I don't know how I feel. Relieved you're not worse hurt, frightened for what will happen next…. And so very, very glad to see you again. I was afraid, after you left, that you were gone for good."
"I…found I could not stand for that to be the case. I vowed I would not let him take from me the things that most mattered." Claudia reached to take Helena' hand. "Even if this gamble had not paid off, I would have come to you."
Helena's heart beat faster; she tried to smile blithely. "Dressed as you are? I'm not sure what my aunt would have made of you."
"I should have told her I'd come to woo you away from Fenwick. You deserve far better, and we all know it. If my leaving pushed you to him, I'm all the more sorry for it."
"He's…of no real consequence. I accepted his proposal because I know he doesn't care for me – or for what I do, so long as he can spend my money."
"It brings me no satisfaction to think of you choosing to spend your life with someone who does not care for your happiness, dear Helena." Claudia still held her fingers tightly.
"But you were gone." The colour rose in Helena's cheeks as soon as the words slipped free, but she could not regret them. "And so was my happiness. Without you...."
Claudia leaned forward, pressing her lips against Helena's. Helena gasped, but did not withdraw until the carriage shook them apart. By then their fingers were more tightly interlaced, and Helena nestled close against Claudia's uninjured arm.
"I'm here," Claudia said. "And I'm free. We both are. You don't need Fenwick, or any man."
It was an alluring dream. For now, Helena embraced it, turning to Claudia for another kiss. Her friend's lips were the perfect antidote to the concerns that pressed at her thoughts – what might Halesbury do, were they being pursued, would Reggie be in any trouble, where could they go, and how could she stay with Claudia…. She did present a very comely man. Perhaps they could find some little town and pass as husband and wife. Perhaps they could find some gullible Parson. Perhaps. There was much of her friend's story she hadn't yet heard, and Helena couldn't be sure of her intentions. Claudia had been meant to disappear off to Manchester and reside there with a widowed aunt, well away from any society of interest. For the moment, none of the explanations seemed important. They could come once they'd left the carriage and were forced to deal with other practicalities.
Another bump on the dark road forced the women even closer, as Helena's mouth collided unceremoniously with Claudia's chin, and her nose against Claudia's cheek. She sat up, trying to recover her balance, covering her bruised lips with her hand and giggling. "I'm sorry," she said, noticing Claudia's wince.
"It's nothing. I will treasure the scar..." She smiled, then rubbed her chin. "And any other the night bestows."
Helena nodded. "And after tonight?"
Claudia took both her hands, kissing each one. "Helena… I love you. Do you understand that? It's isn't… hysteria born of shock, not from tonight or anything else. I couldn't make myself face it until I'd left, but I'd feared it long before. Until I'd lost you, I was too afraid to risk allowing myself these feelings. If I had, perhaps neither of us would have lain in Coleman's path, and I'm sorry."
Beautiful, perfect Claudia – in love with her? She might have had any man she'd wanted, and Helena had suspected her of enjoying their attentions. But on reflection, perhaps her disinterest in them had been sincere. In those days, Helena hadn't been able to sort out for herself whether she wanted to be Claudia, or simply to have her. She did not possess her friend's beauty – her hair a common brown that fought the most basic ringlets, her eyes a muddled hazel in a too-broad face.
"Before you were gone, I couldn't have said how much I cherished your friendship. Now, it alone could never satisfy me."
Claudia blushed, the colour in her cheeks contrasting with her pale skin. "Would you permit me to try? To satisfy you?"
"I've dreamed of it..." She pressed herself closer against Claudia, resting one hand on her thigh. They kissed again, and when the poor state of the road made such affections impractical, made do with holding each other close, each marveling at their change of fortunes and eager to discover what their future would hold together.
They repaired to an inn outside of the city, where an exchange of coin guaranteed their privacy. Armstrong, whose reaction to learning his passenger's identity was mixed, relented to continuing the charade and assisted the women in passing as an eloping couple. He stayed in the common room to await any news from town – Claudia and Helena retired to a private chamber where they could be alone, safe, and comfortable.
The first task was to deal with Claudia's arm. Helena eased off the dark jacket, setting it aside. The shirt below was soaked through with red, the voluminous linen clinging to the drying blood. She fetched a cloth and some strong liquor, and set about easing the fabric loose. Claudia stood up straight, stoic as a Roman, the only sign of her discomfort an occasional wince or quiet gasp. Despite her focus, Helena couldn't help admiring how the pale waistcoat strained against her friend's bosom without the jacket to provide an extra measure of concealment. The trousers she wore had clearly been altered more extensively to allow a proper fit for her broad hips and rounded bottom. Ladies' dresses were more concealing of this feature, which was probably to protect men's fragile egos when faced with so shapely an example as Claudia's. Her habit of riding had clearly served her well.
"I'll need to undress you further," Helena said, setting aside the cloth for now. Claudia nodded her assent, blushing. "It's best if you keep your arm still as much as possible, until I can bind it properly."
The cravat was clearly Reggie's work – the knot was one of his favourites, his habitual precision only slightly impaired by performing the task for another. It made sense that she had some aid in fixing her dress, but despite knowing that Claudia had no interest in her cousin, she had to suppress a pang of jealousy. Once untied, Claudia's pale neck was exposed, and Helena caressed it softly, eliciting a smile from her patient. The waistcoat was next, slipped off carefully as much to avoid paining Claudia as to prevent it from being stained as well. The linen of the shirt beneath was gossamer fine, and draped becomingly against her breasts. Her nipples were taut, though the fire kept the room warm, and she blushed even harder at Helena's gaze. Helena could feel her own nipples chafing against her chemise and the seams of her stays. The sensation was matched by a pleasurable tingling in her sex, fighting against her ability to concentrate on her set task.
Removing the shirt was more difficult to accomplish, as it had to be lifted over Claudia's head. Helena had her sit on the bed, then settled behind her to provide assistance, carefully stripping off the garment. Claudia, bare from the waist up, leaned back against and took a deep steadying breath. Unable to resist her beautiful friend, Helena slipped her arm around Claudia, brushing her fingers lightly across her stomach, caressing the underside of her breast with her thumb before sliding it across Claudia's nipple. This earned an entirely different, much more fascinating gasp.
Claudia turned her head back toward Helena, who bent her head to Claudia's neck, kissing her way along to her shoulder. It was instinct that moved her; a desire that had been awakened and not easily quelled. But she managed to pull herself away.
"I should finish with your arm," she said, breathless. "I should do it quickly," she added when Claudia nodded, and reached for the clean bandage she'd prepared.
"Yes," Claudia agreed. "And then – I believe I promised you satisfaction…"
Helena blushed this time as she wrapped the cloth around the wound. Tomorrow they would find a doctor, but it was not urgent. The gash could use some stitching, but she'd not thought to bring her needle and thread when she'd dashed off on this mad adventure – the bandage, and gentle treatment, would serve for now. She tied it securely, then sealed the knot with a kiss, shifting back to her position behind her friend. "I hope it is something that we can find in each other… I have some ideas as to how."
Boldly this time, she reached around, cupping both of Claudia's breasts, squeezing them gently while she returned to planting kisses all along her neck and shoulders. When Claudia moaned, Helena flicked her thumb across her nipples, then pinching them lightly.
"Oh, please!" Claudia gasped, pressing her good hand against Helena's, holding it in place. "I've dreamed of this, dreamed of you touching me while I explore myself…"
"Show me, darling." Helena could feel the wetness between her own thighs, and it was thrilling to think of Claudia feeling the same need she did, to imagine touching Claudia the way she would touch herself, to have Claudia handle her so in turn. She reached to help Claudia fumble with the buttons of her trousers, cursing then laughing at their proliferation. The drawers were less complicated, and it was strangely exciting to think that Claudia had gone so far in her masquerade as to wear them. Claudia spread her legs wider, reaching her hand into the mess of dark, wet curls with a sigh.
Helena watched Claudia's fingers work, returning to work on her breasts, allowing her friend to lean back against her for support. Observation would only sate her for a time, though, especially as Claudia's soft cries grew more frequent. She shifted again, helping Claudia to lie back on the pillows, lying beside her, and set her hand to the task as well. It was strange to perform this service for another, but exciting as Claudia flushed and moaned all the harder. Helena followed her lead at first, but soon took over, massaging the nub of her sex firmly. Claudia tensed, and then shuddered, crying out loudly. As her shaking subsisted, she drew Helena's fingers to her lips, kissing them gently.
"That was sweeter that I could have ever imagined, better than any dream… But I'm not so hurt that I can't do my part." Turning carefully, she reached to tilt Helena's face for a kiss. As their lips met, she reached lower, gathering Helena's skirts to run her hand along her smooth thigh. Despite her desire, she winced at the motion.
Helena pulled back, concerned. "Darling Claudia, I don't want to see you hurt worse. And I can't stand to think that this will be our only chance to be together. As much as it pains me… I can wait, and be satisfied with all the rest."
"No." Claudia sat up, her look stubborn. This was the woman who refused to be stopped, who took justice and life into her own hands. A paltry bullet wound would hardly stop her once she'd come so far. "It can't be necessary." She smiled, standing, and beckoning a curious Helena to sit on the edge of the bed. "I have one good arm, and I have other parts. If I can't lie beside you, then I shall kneel before you, my radiant love."
Kneel she did, raising dress and petticoat to lay kisses along Helena's knees, and up her thighs. Helena took charge of the fabric, gathering it out of the way, and opening her legs. Helena smiled, blushing, as Claudia breathed deeply, then kissed her way up Helena's thigh.
The next kiss was more intimate, and Helena threw her head back and sighed loudly. She'd never dreamed of being touched this way – it was incredible. Claudia's tongue flicked out, tasting the nectar that slicked her folds, and she could barely contain her urge to press herself against Claudia's – her lover's – face. Instead, she reached down, spreading herself open to facilitate the task. Claudia's probing grew bolder, tracing all around her lower lips, flicking across the bud of her sex, teasing at her entrance and licking into her deeply. Helena stared down, fascinated by sight and sensations, and caught Claudia's eye as she licked slowly upwards. It was intense, and she felt a wave of pleasure course through her, radiating from her sex to her extremities, curling her toes and angling her fingers in the bedclothes.
But Claudia wasn't finished yet. She stood, bending to kiss Helena, her hand moving to where her mouth had been. Passion seemed to overcome her sense of pain, and she pressed Helena back on the bed, her fingers sliding inside her, thumb circling her sex, holding herself up on her wounded arm as Helena clung to her in abandon, her cries of pleasure unrestrained. When her body could take no more, Helena pushed back, still shuddering, still clinging tightly to Claudia, face buried against her bare shoulder. Claudia held still, her fingers still buried deeply inside Helena, kissing her hair and murmuring encouragements, praise, gratitudes, and declarations of love. It was only when she began to tremble, her passion calm and pain taking control once again, that she withdrew and tumbled down beside Helena.
"You're bleeding again," Helena whispered, carefully curling up along Claudia's uninjured side, kissing her cheek. She was still fully dressed, highly conscious of how pleasantly her quim ached, and how her nipples seemed to throb in time though they hadn't been touched – this time.
"I don't care. I would shoot one thousand men and suffer one thousand wounds to be with you like that again."
Helena kissed her gently. "My dearest love. A thousand men should not be sufficient to take me from your arms…. But I will hope that just the one killing shall suffice."