A slow, crooked grin spread across his mouth as he nodded. “Aye. Like cockfighting,” he confirmed, “only with fists.”
“As opposed to your cocks?”
Thea couldn’t believe she’d said that.
She knew the word, of course. Living in the slums had enlivened her vocabulary if not her life, but she’d never before uttered it.
Lord Tremayne didn’t seem able to believe it either.
He stared at her a moment, eyebrows raised, breath held. Then they both laughed. He winced, then laughed again. Thea howled so hard her stomach hurt.
How grand her life had become since meeting him.
In the bedchamber, Mr. and Mrs. Samuels shared a surprised look.
She silently deposited the tray with wine, fruit and cheese and several wedges of roast beef upon the dainty circular table while he—not so silently—set down the bucket of coal beside the hearth and beefed up the flames.
Together they turned and exited the room, securing the door behind them.
It wasn’t until they were approaching the bottom of the second set of stairs that Mrs. Samuels spoke. “Didn’t his man of affairs lead you to believe that Lord Tremayne was rather a somber fellow?”
“That he did.”
“He doesn’t sound somber to me.”
“Someone needs to teach that boy how to duck.”
Funny how breathing without her hurt but laughing with her only tickled his ribs. She’d surprised him, this mistress of his.
Had from almost the moment they met.
But something surprised him more when he freed her right arm—and was confronted with the bruises lining her wrist.
For a split second, Daniel thought he’d been too rough on her that first night. But then sanity prevailed. Lord knew he’d seen enough bruises in his life to know these weren’t fresh. Had to be several days old. There were individual finger marks as well as some deeper yellowing, indicating it hadn’t been the first time someone had used force on her.
Rage stormed his gut; he hated seeing anyone abused by bullies. He’d lived with it enough as a child, seen how cowed Ellie had been around their father, experienced his own fortitude and will draining away too many times to count to stomach it happening again—to anyone he cared about.
The overpowering need to protect Thea flooded through him.
Her eyes were still sparkling with their shared laughter while he had to exercise every bit of restraint he could summon. Keeping his grip on her loose, he raised her arm between them. “Who…did…this?”
She looked completely startled for an instant, then her eyes flicked to the discoloration before jumping back to his. The laughter withered and she pressed her lips into a tight line.
“Thea?” His thumb smoothed over the old injury, his gaze pinning hers, demanding answers.
He watched her gather determination around her like a cloak. “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”
He refused to let her get away with that. Unintentionally, his hold constricted until the subtle start she couldn’t hide reminded him to temper his anger at her unknown assailant. “I am concerned.”
“Just my troublesome old landlord.” She tossed her head as though to prove how unaffected she was. The gesture was ruined by a long hank of damp hair slinging onto her shoulder, bringing to mind the day she’d had. “He won’t bother me further.”
Daniel purposefully gentled his grip, giving no indication how ferociously he wanted to throttle the absent man. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Despite her tone, he could see the thought of the bastard flustered and frightened her. Daniel would make damn certain no one would ever put that look in her eye again. He’d send Swift John to her first thing tomorrow, tell the boy to stay. From now on, if she needed him, he’d know in a hurry.
Before he could reiterate she was to use the servant as her own, Thea leaned down to step from the sludgy dress. Then she stood, not quite shivering, in her chemise. Instead of meeting his gaze, she addressed a point some three inches above his shoulder. “If you’ll wait in the bedchamber, my lord, I’ll wash and be out to join you directly.”
So that’s how she intended to play this? He glimpses a teeny bit of honest fear and she pokers up stiff and pushes him away?
Not hardly. Blocking the door with his body, Daniel jerked at his neckcloth, wincing when his knuckles protested the stubborn knot. Working it loose, he leaned to the side and snared her gaze. “We’ll wash together.”
He watched comprehension sink in as he dispensed with the neckcloth and undid his shirt cuffs, the mild protest of his ribs worth it when he ripped the shirt overhead and tossed it behind her. Worth it because the prim, detached look dropped from her face and she exclaimed over the fresh mottling on his side.
He’d never thanked a flush hit more.
Stripped to the waist, he reached for her chemise—ready to bare the rest of her—but she hauled out of reach. “Wait. Do you care to tell me why Sarah thought Lord Penry did this to you?”
So he is out to smack some sense into me?
Daniel smiled grimly and sidestepped her question. “Never saw him.”
“My lord…” There was a threat in her tone, as though she chastised a sword-wielding grasshopper bent on terrorizing her begonias.
The image had him laughing again. “’T-tis true. Crossed paths not at all with him—”
“Nor with a door, I’d imagine.”
He had the grace to look ashamed. Why hadn’t he just told her he sparred?
Because Elizabeth always made it out to be so much more? Father beat it into you until you came to believe it—you think you deserve being punished because you lived while David died.
That wasn’t true. Not anymore.
However, an uncomfortable piece of honesty made him recall how he had thought he deserved a pummeling today for his treatment of Tom.
The sudden burst of clarity was startling.
But it paled
