“Collect your skates over…” Because this was clearly his lucky day, it was Venus who opened the hackney’s door. Instantly her eyes widened in outrage as he flicked the pack together in a final flourish.
“You are teaching them to gamble?”
“Of course I’m not teaching them to gamble.” He did his best to convey with his eyes that he had just avoided all-out war, hoping that she, of all people, would understand how unpredictable and uncivilizedthese orphans were. “I was occupying them with a few tricks to keep them quiet for the duration of the journey, that’s all.”
“With cards, Galahad!Cards, for goodness’ sake?” She managed to make the wordcardssound as dangerous to their welfare as knife juggling. “These are impressionable young minds!”
The offending cards were snatched from his hand and swiftly deposited inside her ridiculous little reticule, filling it completely. Staring at him in exasperation, she used nothing but her magical index finger to shepherd all her suddenly obedient flock in the direction of Mrs. Witherspoon, who was handing out a huge mountain of hired skates as if her life depended on it. “Once you have your skates, put them on and sit quietly until I tell you otherwise.”
Feeling inadequate and still bewildered as to why he had been dragged along, Gal followed suit, strapping on some skates and sitting dutifully with all the rest of the orphans while he awaited the all-powerful finger’s next instructions.
“I suppose it’s all showmanship.” At Galahad’s unconvinced expression, Vee laughed as they slowly skated side by side along the top edge of the perimeter she had set for the older children they were supervising. “My finger does not possess magical powers. I simply act as if I am the one in charge and they believe it.” She swept her arm to encompass the twenty grinning orphans skating close by. “Children need clear rules and are always much happier when they know exactly what those rules are. In hindsight, it was remiss of me not to set them for you in the carriage.”
“I’ll say it was. You fed me to the lions. On purpose, too.”
She smiled, guilty as charged, but would never admit that she had done that to test his mettle, or that he had passed that test with flying colors. “In my defense, I assumed a man of your many talents would manage well enough on his own.”
“What made you think my specific talents would stretch to controlling a carriage full of over-excited children?” Despite the crease ofconcentration on his forehead, Galahad still wobbled on the ice, proving that he was able to skate in the loosest possible sense, exactly as he had claimed. But what he lacked in ability he made up for in tenacity and good humor. “I know innkeeping, cards, and business— in that order. None of those things involve humans below the age of twenty.”
“You manage to control a bar full of rowdy drinkers and gamblers night after night with no problem, and surely that is harder than a few children?”
“If a drinker or a gambler gets too rowdy, I can punch him and throw him out. I can imagine how well me punching one of your unruly orphans and then tossing them out of a moving carriage would have gone down with you and the reverend and your liberal policies against violence.”
“You are not a violent man, Galahad.” Vee felt that in her bones. “I’d bet good money that you’ve never used your fists once to ensure compliance at The Den.”
“I haven’t—but I could if I had to. That’s the difference.” His confidence building, he lengthened his stride. “It’s the threat that matters. It’s implied. My customers know that I could pummel them, or I could unleash Muldoon’s meaty fists upon them with a click of my fingers…” He clicked his. “… and so they behave. Besides, my customers are all adults, and in the main, adults don’t lick then stick fingers in each other’s ears.” He pulled an outraged face. “Inmydefense, that’s not a situation I’ve ever had to deal with before. Any more than supervising a bunch of children on ice when I can barely keep myself upright is something I’ve had to deal with before.” He stared at her in feigned annoyance. “Something you should have thought about before you kidnapped me and made me your minion. We both know I’m as good as useless out here.”
Vee did not believe that for a second but wasn’t ready to give him a compliment when she still wasn’t sure what to feel about him. “You have two working eyes.”
“And you have a schoolteacher’s extra pair hidden in the back of your head, which make mine redundant, so why did you really drag me out here, Venus?” He twisted to face her as he stopped on the ice.
“Because I have questions.” So many, that were so important, they made her brain hurt.
“About The Den? About letting the boys work there?”
“About you actually.” Seeing as he had brought it up, there was no point beating around the bush. “Whoareyou, Galahad?”
His bemusement was instant. “Who am I? What sort of question is that when you’ve known me for years?” That he started skating again was telling.
“But do I? Does anyone?” As she was better on the ice than him it was no trouble catching up to him, and in case he did all he could to maneuver out of her way both physically and conversationally, she threaded her arm through his to anchor him by her side. “You seem to be so many conflicting things, Galahad Sinclair—you play so many different characters—I have no clue which version of you is real.”
“I am exactly what you see.” His expression tried to shrug her observation off as nonsense, but the muscles in his arm bunched beneath her fingers. “A fish out of water trying to make a go of things in a strange land.”
“What I see—what I’ve seen—is a man who can adapt to whichever environment he happens to be in, with such ease and swiftness it is confusing. Occasionally, when he wants to disarm, he pretends to be the lackadaisical foreigner filled with lazy charm. That character is at odds with the ruthless, ambitious businessman who is always scouting the horizon for opportunities to seize and circumstances to adapt to. Sometimes, like last night, he is the eyes-everywhere king of The Den. Adored by all his loyal but lowly subjects in the docks. Yet that same man can rub shoulders with the aristocrats of Mayfair and not seem out of place. In crowds, he can be the life and soul, but among his family he is the shy, reluctant dinner companion who quietly reads Shakespeare in his spare time. Other times he is a dreamer who seesnothing but the infinite potential of an idea. Someone who is harmlessly flirtatious and, occasionally, dangerously seductive.” There was no point lying about her overwhelming attraction to him, as that was the crux of the matter.
The flirt arrived with a vengeance to disguise the brief flash of something that looked a lot like hope that skittered across his handsome face. “You find me seductive?”
Vee rolled her eyes rather than answer that, not ready to bare her hand entirely just yet. “I see a man who is often carried away by enthusiasm and allows his future to be guided by dreams. However, that same man often seems haunted by his past and uses it like a barricade to hide behind. A shield to keep out the world and guard his heart.” He blinked at that. Only once but enough to tell her that he wasn’t comfortable that she had seen that. Or particularly comfortable with her canny assessment of him at all.
“A man who is universally liked by everyone, yet who keeps everyone at arm’s length. A man who forgives unconditionally yet refuses to bend an inch elsewhere. A determined, patient, stubborn, generous, single-minded, vexing, kindhearted, unyielding, unreadable, untrusting, resourceful, selfish, passionate, and compassionate man.” He was all those things and more, but it was the more that she wanted now.
“In short, I see a man of wild contradictions, Galahad.” Because he had stopped looking at her to stare across the ice instead, Vee slowed and tugged him to face her. “A man that I do not know at all. Does anyone?”
He was silent, turning his head and shielding his brows from the glare of the midday sun to study all the people littering the frozen Serpentine rather than allowing her to see the truth in his eyes.
But she could feel the tension in his body. Sense the turmoil in his soul. After an age he blew out a misty breath and watched it evaporate before he answered. “Probably not.”
“Why?”
