Thornstock stared hard at her. “Watch it, you termagant. I don’t want to run Wolfe off before he even begins.”
“And on that note,” Lady Gwyn said frostily, “I believe I shall leave. I have packing to do, and the major undoubtedly has matters to settle with the servants under him and with Sheridan.” She turned to Joshua. “Oh, and Major Wolfe, if you don’t mind, I’d like a private word with you before you head back to the dower house.”
With a tight nod, he followed her out into the hall.
“This way,” she said. After peeking into the blue parlor, she led him inside and closed the door.
That gave him pause. “I believe this is a bit more private than propriety would allow, your ladyship.”
“Pishposh. This will only take a moment. But I don’t want my brother to interfere any more than he already has.” She lifted her pretty brow. “And by the way, when you say ‘your ladyship’ like that, it sounds awfully sarcastic.”
“I’ll attempt to make it sound more respectful in future,” he said, though this time he’d been unable to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.
“That is not what I meant!” she protested. “You know perfectly well you are not a servant.”
“I beg to differ. Your brother referred to me as a gamekeeper not once but twice.” When she winced, he softened his tone. “Youmay not think of me in that light, but Thornstock certainly does. With good reason. I do the work of a gamekeeper. And thanks to the agreement I just made, I will do the work of your bodyguard in London. So obviously I don’t mind being employed by your family.”
What a bare-faced lie. He did mind. He wanted to do something of more worth than managing the kennel and wooded property of a ducal estate.
“If you say so.” She sighed. “But that’s not what I wish to discuss. Once we reach London, I want you to teach me to shoot.”
He muttered an oath under his breath. “Because your brother wisely refused to do so?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “He’s merely being his usual overprotective self. But you taught Beatrice, so I don’t see why you can’t teach me.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I taught Beatrice out of necessity, because she was occasionally alone in the dower house at night and I wanted her to be safe. Somehow I doubt that putting a loaded gun intoyourhand would keep anyone safe, even you.”
“Then I have a surprise for you, Major,” she said with a toss of her head. “Unless you agree to teach me to shoot, I will walk back into the writing room and tell my brother that I prefer to have him accompany me about London after all. Because you are only of use to me if you do as I ask, at least in this instance.”
Damn. She seemed determined to force the issue. He could wash his hands of her right now and refuse to do her bidding, in which case he would also lose the chance to go to London with Sheridan’s blessing.
Orhe could try another time-honored tactic: deflection. Hmm. Thatcouldwork. A plan formed in his mind.
He nodded as if to concede defeat. “Fine. Shooting lessons, it is.”
Chapter Four
The day after Easter, their party set out for London in Thorn’s comfortable traveling coach, with Gwyn and her mother on one side and Thorn and Major Wolfe on the other. Thorn was exerting himself for once, trying to entertain Mama by giving her riddles to solve.
Gwyn was more interested in watching Major Wolfe.
The truth was, Gwyn had been dreading her debut until Thorn had hired the major to accompany them. That day in the writing room, she’d poked the bear, and it had been so much fun that she could hardly wait to do it more. Whenever she teased the major, the cloud of gloom lifted from his brow and he turned sarcastic. It meant she was able to affect him more than he let on, which had quite surprised her.
Today he’d managed to surprise her again. After all the talk about his lack of acceptable clothing, she’d expected him to wear his uniform at the very least. But although his travel attire was somewhat unfashionable—few gentlemen wore dove-gray greatcoats or smoky gray trousers these days—he looked so glorious in it that it hardly mattered.
Even without a uniform, every inch of him shouted “officer,” from the ebony locks he kept tied in a queue to his gray kid gloves and black leather jackboots.
And oh, how those boots made her salivate. It didn’t help that the toes of the boot on his right leg were, of necessity, nearly touching her skirts, because he seemed unable to bend that knee very well due to his injury. She wished she were daring enough to run the toe of her half-boot over the toe of his. Perhaps that would tempt him to stretch his feetbeneathher skirts, at least enough so that they could touch boots more . . . er . . . intimately.
Perhaps it wouldfinallymake him look at her. He’d kept his gaze trained out the window for an hour now, although she couldn’t figure out what he found so fascinating out there. With Easter having been early this year, the Season was early as well, so spring had not yet sprung. Some trees were budding, but the weather was so damp and cold, even in the carriage, that her wool cloak still didn’t keep her warm.
She shivered, and her mother reached over to take her gloved hand. “Oh, dear,” Mama said, “your hands are like ice. We simplymustbuy you a thicker cloak in London. This one is fetching, I’ll grant you, but—”
“My cloak is perfectly adequate for spring, Mama,” Gwyn said, not wanting to reinforce the major’s opinion that she was spoiled. “Besides, I’d never even had a chance to wear it when we went into mourning. I’m not going to pass up the chance now just because it’s a bit chilly today.”
“Well, when we stop to change horses,” Mama said, “I’ll ask that they give us some heated bricks. I always find that warming one’s feet helps keep one warm all over.”
“We don’t have time for heated bricks, Mother,” Thorn put in irritably. “We’re expected at the Golden Oak Inn in Cambridge at dusk, and I want to make good time. Besides, I’m not cold. Are you, Wolfe?”
