say one way or another . . .”
“Perhaps they’ll lose more than normal at the gaming tables or something they wish to remain hidden might come to light if they don’t pay for work that’s been done.”
“You’re not going to actually hurt them.”
He heaved a heavy sigh and glanced out the window as though disappointed that she’d asked. “Let’s just say they’ll see the advantage to paying a seamstress who has put in hours sewing clothing for spoiled Lady Jocelyn.”
“If they should fail to see the advantage?”
The smile was gone when he turned his attention back to her. “I can be quite persuasive. And if not me, then one of my brothers. Mick, in particular, has the ear of a good many aristocrats these days, and they want to stay in his good graces. But they won’t feel the weight of my fist, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
She feared she might have hurt his feelings, so she gave him an impish smile. “I probably wouldn’t mind if Chadbourne felt it once.”
His laughter, deep and rich, rang through the confines of the carriage. “I’ll have to keep in mind that you’re a vindictive wench.”
With a long exhale, she studied her hands covered in worn gloves, knotted in her lap. “A woman scorned and all that.” She looked up. “Beth told me that you and your brothers helped her out of a difficult situation with her landlord.” Difficult being a paltry word for the situation in which he’d been extracting payment with sexual favors from the sweet seamstress.
“That was Gillie’s doing.”
“She said you confronted him.”
“Because Gillie asked us to.”
“Did he feel the weight of your fists?”
“Several times.”
“Is that the reason they call you Beast?”
“Part of it.”
“And the rest?”
He merely shook his head. She wasn’t in the mood to push. He’d stood up for her today. He could keep his secrets.
“How was your visit with your brother?” She missed her own brothers, but wouldn’t put them at risk by sending word she wanted to see them.
“Successful. It got us a comfortable ride back to the residence.”
Chapter 14
Later that evening, as the clock chimed ten, clutching Murder at Ten Bells, she strolled into the library. If he wasn’t in the mood to give her a lesson, she would read. When she spotted the small tulip-shaped glass of sherry resting on the small table beside the chair in which she’d sat the night before, something melted inside her chest, near the area where her heart beat.
As always, Benedict came to his feet. She shouldn’t be so glad to see him. Only a few hours had passed since dinner, and yet it had seemed an eternity.
Gracefully, she lowered herself into the chair, just as she’d taught the ladies that afternoon to lower themselves. She didn’t know when he’d done it, but at some point he’d spoken with the women because they all arrived in simple but elegant frocks that revealed not so much as a quarter of an inch of cleavage.
“Thank you for speaking with the ladies regarding their clothing. I noticed a decided difference—a positive one—in how they responded to the lesson this afternoon. Then, of course, it was nice to enjoy dinner without so much skin on display.”
“I noticed they were less . . . rambunctious than usual during the meal.”
“Today we focused on sitting and dining etiquette. They’re sharp, anxious to learn. I thought of a couple of books that might prove helpful to them.” Reaching into the pocket of her dark blue frock, she removed a scrap of paper upon which she’d written the titles. Leaning forward she extended it to him. Leaning forward he reached for it. As he took it, his fingers skimming over hers, she felt as though the rain from that morning had returned with lightning in full force, striking her. How could so simple a touch in such a small area be felt throughout her entire body?
She settled back so quickly she might have created a breeze that stirred the flames on the hearth to dance more wildly, while he merely leaned back as though he’d felt nothing at all. Except that he, too, was watching the flames as though they’d become the most fascinating thing on earth. “I’ll have Fancy order copies for each of the ladies.”
He looked to be a man battling demons, a man pulled taut who could snap at any moment. If he snapped, she wondered if his lips might land on hers. She was tempted to find out.
He’d told her that words