—but there was nothing nefarious going on here. Improper, perhaps, for a lady to learn such things as wrestling, but this was all intended for Beatrice’s own protection.
Dash would understand. He knew what his sister was like.
Still… “I am capable of instructing you with my boots on,” he said evenly.
And then, just as deliberately, he forced aside every stray thought and stepped onto the carpet. “Come over here.”
She tilted her head—because he’d just given her an order, of course, and that was often reason enough for her not to do something—but then she padded across the floor, apparently willing to allow it in this instance.
Good. She would have to get used to listening to him if they were to make any progress with these lessons.
“Give me your hand,” he said, extending his own, palm up.
This time she didn’t hesitate at all.
Her sleeves had been rolled up loosely, practical for movement. But as he wrapped his fingers around her wrist… he saw them.
Four shadows against pale skin. A watercolor of black and blue. Unmistakable.
The world narrowed; the air around him thickened.
He had known Hatherleigh grabbed her last night. He had seen the struggle.
But knowing and seeing the result… The blighter had gripped her so tightly, he’d left bruises.
“Hatherleigh hurt you,” he said.
With her hand still loosely in Gideon’s grasp, she glanced down, then gave a faint shrug.
“Well, yes,” she said matter-of-factly. “That is the reason we’re here, is it not?”
Gideon swallowed.
Working through the roaring in his ears.
For one irrational instant he considered saddling his horse and going after the blighter. And then finishing the beating he, Longstaffe, and Blackwell had begun.
Instead, he forced his voice level. “It is.” And then more softly, “Let’s make sure that never happens again.”
Her expression sharpened.
Good.
“Take out your bodkin,” he said.
Beatrice blinked once but obeyed, reaching up into her hair and drawing out the slender steel pin. She held it exactly as she had the night before—arm extended, chin lifted, the point steady.
“Now what?”
“Now,” Gideon replied mildly, “Show me what you intended to do last night.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “You wish me to stab you?”
“I wish you to try.”
Beatrice narrowed her eyes but did not hesitate.
She lunged.
