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“There is a man, Lord Newsome…”
“Viscount Newsome?”
“The very one,” James said dryly. “Last week he met in a carriage accident. He was reckless and drunk, driving at an alarming speed. A woman was killed. He was at the club today, laughing over the matter.”
Verity gasped. “I cannot credit such abominable behavior!”
“He was next in the fighting pits, and I went in and challenged him. After calling him a stain on humanity. I thrashed him soundly.” He glanced down at his bruised and bleeding fists. “I did not even take the time to wrap my hands. Sometimes I wonder if I seek any excuse to fight. I’ve not needed the money made from such fights in more than three years. But I find myself returning over and over.”
She lifted his knuckle closer to the lamp, dipped the handkerchief into the whisky, and dabbed it on the torn flesh. A hiss of pain slipped from him, but she did not slow her ministrations, cleaning away the blood. “Do you wish to stop? Fighting that is?”
He considered this, his eyes shuttering. “Whenever I step in the ring, there is always a wave of anger in me…it feels dark, a living entity, and being in the ring, somehow suppresses it. I crave the pleasure of tangling with an opponent who is worthy.”
“You have too much honor and kindness in you, James, for me to believe you only fight for the thrill of it.”
He peered down at her with a surprised mien.
She cleaned away all the blood from his hands and rested the cloth and empty whisky glass on the table, before facing him once more. “Do you think I have not seen your character? You have enfolded me under your protective wings, for little in return, because in your heart you are already a gentleman. And I suspect you know it, James. You helped me simply because you want to see me bloom," she whispered achingly. "What manner of man acts like this? One who has honor and courage and all the fine qualities my papa would say were tip-top."
“How are you so sweet?” he demanded gruffly.
“I eat a lot of delicacies and cakes.”
A snort sounded. “You are also silly. But I like it.”
“Somehow I am gathering you believe this to be flattery?”
“Yes,” he retorted, without an instant’s hesitation.
“It's the most absurd and inelegant compliment,” she agreed mischievously. “My lessons are failing.”
He thought for a few moments. "Your eyes are as brown as mud but prettier. Your lips are as thick...”
Verity choked on her laughter. “Thick? We have spent so many hours reading Lord Byron, John Blunt, and…and…” she broke off giggling.
“Oh? What is this delightful, girlish laugh I hear?” Then he acted as if he caught the sound and placed it over his heart.
She sobered and stared at him, desperately wishing for his kiss. “We are good friends aren’t we, James?” Do not be a silly goose and ruin it, she reminded herself fiercely. Friends did not go around kissing each other.
He looked at her in surprise, and then, after a moment, smiled. “As unlikely as it seems, Verity, we are.”
He unexpectedly curved his arm around her shoulders and dragged her against the solid wall of his chest…into a hug. Verity waited for him to lift her chin and place his lips to hers. Instead of the kiss she had anticipated, his fingers lightly traced her cheek. Her pulse pounded, and she felt confused by the breathless sensations tumbling through her heart. She pressed her face even more against his chest, wishing she could stay there forever. The thought so startled her she pulled away, putting a respectable distance between them.
He rubbed the back of his neck, a too heavy sigh slipping from him. “I am weary.”
She paused at the admission. “I shall take my leave. Perhaps we may have our lesson tomorrow then.” And she wondered then for how long they would prolong this charade.
As if he had peeked into her mind he said, “It is time we pick a date to end our lessons, Verity. We have been taking an enormous gamble with your reputation for over a month, and I would be a reprobate to keep us on this path.”
“Am I getting to be a good fighter then?” she demanded archly.
“You are incredible.”
And that left her speechless for his tone echoed with such genuine admiration. All the possible replies running through her mind felt useless, so she made no reply. Verity collected her reticule and hat with veil.
“Stay.”
“Only for a few minutes.”
