"Not at all. I've heard you're lame. I wouldn't want you to overexert yourself." He shoved the chair back and sat down.
John nodded graciously. "A war wound. Some of us remained with the company through the action. Where did you go, Spencer? France? Switzerland?"
Spencer's hands clutched at the table, and he nearly rose from his seat in his rage. "Damn you, Blackwood. You know that you forced me to desert. Do you know what it's like to come back to England in dishonor? My father had to pay off the authorities just to keep me from getting arrested."
John fought to keep his own rage in check. "And you think you don't deserve to be arrested after what you did?" he hissed. "You should have been hanged."
"Spare me your sensitivity, Blackwood. That girl was nothing. A stupid peasant, nothing more. She'd probably shared her charms with a dozen men before me."
"I saw the blood on the sheets, Spencer. And I heard her screams."
"For the love of God, Blackwood, I did the girl a favor. She was going to have to get that out of the way sooner or later."
John gripped the table in an effort to keep himself from strangling him. "She killed herself three days later, Spencer."
"Did she?" Spencer looked unconcerned.
"Don't you feel any remorse?"
"Damn town was overpopulated, anyway." Spencer held out his hand and idly examined his fingernails. "Those Spaniards breed like rabbits."
"She was an innocent girl," John bit out.
"I am forever impressed by your sense of chivalry. But then again, you always did have a soft spot for the ladies. May I offer you my congratulations on your advantageous marriage? So sorry it's going to be such a short union."
"Leave my wife out of this," John bit out. "You aren't fit to speak her name."
"Oh my, aren't we getting dramatic? I hope love hasn't made you soft, Blackwood. Or perhaps your knee took care of that years ago."
John took a deep breath and forced himself to count to five before speaking again. "Just what is your plan, Spencer?"
"Why, to kill you. I thought you'd figured that out already."
"May I ask why?" he asked, his voice icy with politeness.
"Nobody plays me for the fool, Blackwood, nobody. Do you understand me?" Spencer was growing agitated, and his brow was tense and damp with perspiration. "What you did-"
"What I did was shoot you in the ass." John leaned back and allowed himself his first smile of the day.
Spencer jabbed his finger at John. "I'm going to kill you for that. I've been dreaming about it for years."
"What took you so long?"
John's calm manner only served to enrage Spencer even further. "Do you know what happens when a man deserts? He isn't exactly welcome back in England. His fiancee decides that she might do better elsewhere. His name is dropped from all the lists that matter. You did this to me. You."
"And is England suddenly welcoming you with open arms? I had heard you weren't welcome at the best of parties."
For a moment John thought that Spencer was going to leap over the table and go for his throat. Then, abruptly, the blond man calmed down. "Killing you won't solve all my problems, of course. But it will bring great joy into my life."
John sighed. "Look," he said mildly, "I suppose I don't really need to tell you that I'd rather you didn't kill me."
Spencer let out a short bark of laughter. "Elegantly said, but then again, I'd rather you hadn't ruined my life."
"Why did you come today? Why sit here and make idle conversation?"
"Maybe I was curious. What about you? One would think you'd be hesitant to meet with your killer." He leaned back and presented John with a jaunty grin.
John was beginning to wonder if Spencer was insane. He was obviously obsessed, but at the same time, he seemed bent on maintaining normalcy, sitting here chatting with John as if they were old friends. "Maybe I was curious," he replied. "If s a unique situation. It's a lucky man who gets the opportunity to meet with his killer under such civilized circumstances."
Spencer smiled and inclined his head, graciously acknowledging what he perceived to be a compliment.
"Suppose you tell me what you're planning. You wouldn't want this to be anything less than a challenge, would you?"
"I couldn't care less if it's a challenge. I just want you dead."
John smiled tightly. Spencer certainly didn't believe in indirect speech. "No hints at what I might expect?"
"Something quick and easy, I think. No need to make you suffer."
"How kind of you."
"I'm not a monster, just a man of principle."
While John was pondering that unbelievable statement, Spencer focused on something over his shoulder. "Is that your lovely wife I see, Blackwood? I must commend you on your marital success."
John felt his insides run cold. He twisted in his seat, his gaze swinging around until it fell upon Belle, who had just entered the shop with Emma and Persephone.
John took another deep breath, trying to contain himself. He was going to kill her. He was going to put her over his knee and blister her bottom. He was going to lock her in her room for a week. He was-
"Not very excited to see her, I see."
John swiveled back to Spencer and snapped, "Another word from you, and I will strangle you as I sit."
Spencer leaned back and chuckled, enjoying himself enormously.
"Our conversation is over." John stood up and walked across the room without a backward glance. Alex and Dunford would make sure Spencer didn't attack him. He grabbed Belle's arm before she could even sit down, hissing in her ear, "You are going to be a very unhappy woman."