Page 45 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
“I want you to teach me to defend myself.”
He opened his eyes slowly and turned to her. The set of her jaw told him she was prepared to argue. His initial reaction was to tell her no, but that was foolish. If Hawk or any of his men did ever manage to get near her, it would behoove her to know how to defend herself. “Tomorrow morning,” he said.
“Thank you!” she burst out and took him by surprise when she wrapped him in a hug.
Heat from their bodies radiated in his chest and his desire for her reawakened, but he tamped it down. He had to exercise restraint when it came to her or he’d find himself soon out of control. He reached behind his back and gently took her wrist, unlatching her arms from around him. The sense of loss made him grit his teeth, and the hurt look that flashed in her eyes, the one she tried to hide by glancing down at her lap, made him want to explain, to offer comfort, but no explanation he could give would comfort her.
He rose, and when she finally looked up, her expression was blank. He didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he knew he’d injured her feelings or that she felt she had to hide her injured feelings from him. He was an arse, and this, this moment, was exactly why he’d never even considered wedding again. It hadn’t been simply about Hawk; it had been about him, too.
“Good night, Frederica,” he said, forcing himself to turn from her and walk out the door, leaving her staring after him. By the time he got to his own bedchamber to undress and climb into bed, his mood was sour. He stared up at his ceiling, recalling the way she smelled, the way she looked when in the throes of passion, her bravery in facing him.
“Damnation!” he cursed, flipping onto his side and trying to force his mind to focus on tomorrow and the meeting at the club he’d asked a few people to attend—people he thought might be able to aid him in finding Hawk in London. But his thoughts kept returning to Frederica. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It was only supposed to be desire, but already it wasn’t. There was concern—too damned much—and admiration that seemed to be growing by leaps and bounds, not to mention a genuine liking that made him want to be around her far more than was wise.
How the hell was he supposed to keep a wall between them when everything about her chipped away at it?
“Again,” Gabriel said, his tone just as no-nonsense as it had been since he’d started training Freddy several hours ago. She wiped the sweat from her brow and tried to ignore the sting of hurt. What had she expected? That in one morning together Gabriel might lower the guard he’d erected between them just a bit?
Yes, that was exactly what she’d hoped, but clearly, it was going to take a great deal more than one lesson. Gabriel had his plan, and she had hers. She would show him she belonged here. He had told her not to involve herself in locating his enemy, but she was the very best person to do so since the man was after her. And once she captured Hawk for Gabriel, there would be no way her husband could send her away because he didn’t think her capable of surviving in Covent Garden. If he sent her away then, it would be because he simply didn’t want to get close to her, but after the passion they’d shared the night before, she had hopes that he did. At the moment, it might be mostly about desire for him, but given the thoughtful gestures he’d made so far, she was sure there was more to it.
“Frederica!”
She blinked and gawked at him. “Sorry. I’m ready.”
He was before her in a flash, and his hands came around her neck, squeezing and cutting off her air. For a breath, she panicked as she’d done every time, despite the fact that he’d told her exactly what to do.
“Frederica, think. Push the fear away. You want to survive. You need to survive. You have to survive. Picture who you have to survive for.”
She closed her eyes, heart thumping in her ears, and Gabriel’s face danced before her lids, making her belly flutter. She stepped back as she dipped her body forward, toward Gabriel, and then she turned, stepping out of his grasp.
“You did it!” Gabriel boomed, sweeping her into his arms and off her feet, and twirling her around.
She laughed as he set her down and stared at her. “Well?” he asked, hitching his brows.
She laughed. “It was just as you said!”
He nodded. “My hands may be around your neck, but the strength in my thumbs, or any man’s, is not a match for the strength of your body.”
“Teach me more maneuvers, Gabriel!”
He laughed now. A rich, deep laugh that warmed her chest. “Tomorrow morning. I promise. I’ve got to go to the club now.”
She bit her lip on protesting. Instead, she asked, “Will you be home late?”
He opened his mouth to respond, frowned, and closed it, looking as if he were contemplating what to say. “Yes. Don’t wait up for me. And Frederica, just in case you are planning anything you ought not be, let me remind you, I have guards at the front door, and they aren’t stationed there to watch the house.”
“I’ve not forgotten,” she said.
With a nod, he departed the garden. She watched him go, considering her mood. She wasn’t angry at him, which surprised her. He effectively was taking away some of her freedom, which was one of the very reasons she had thought she didn’t need marriage or love. But he was doing it to protect her, which was an act of caring, whether he admitted it or not, and she found she liked that very much. She certainly had no intention of becoming a wife that had to bow to the orders of her husband. Never that—gawds!
But she didn’t think Gabriel would ever expect that, given how he’d relented rather easily to showing her how to defend herself, which was something her brother, father, almost no man in thetonwould have ever done. But Gabriel was not of theton. He was logical, whereas logic seemed to escape most men of theton, the only exceptions being her brother-in-law; her friend Constantine’s husband, Lord Kilgore; and her friend Lilias’s husband, Lord Greybourne.
Gabriel also had been patient with her this morning during their lessons, but he had not treated her as if she were breakable. He’d put real force into the moves he’d used. That told her he saw her, who she really was, and it didn’t scare him.
She hoped he would come to lower his guard soon because she was most definitely falling for her husband.
The second Blythe entered Freddy’s new home that afternoon, Freddy sprang on her. The footman hadn’t even closed the door behind Blythe before Freddy was taking her sister-in-law by the hand and pulling her to the parlor so that they could speak in private.
“What’s so urgent, Freddy?” Blythe growled and tugged her hand out of Freddy’s hold.
