Page 117 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“What?”
“Well, haven’t I been dancing all night with them? Holding their hands and twirling about? Are your hands as big and strong as theirs?
“Everything about me is as big,” he said on a low growl. “Bigger, even.”
Yes, she knew that, but she tossed him an arch look. “Take off your coat and let me see.”
He snorted and pulled it off, setting it carefully at the base of her bed. His cravat went too after she tugged its folds open. Then he stretched out beside her, his bare feet looking large and masculine on her soft white coverlet.
He looked at her, his expression open as he extended his arm to the side, inviting her to come close. She did quickly. She settled against his shoulder and smelled the sour London scents on his shirt, but the harsher scent of lye on his skin. He’d bathed before coming to see her. She touched his jaw. He’d shaved as well.
Touch me.
“Well,” she began, “I have been terrified all week.”
“You? The woman who faced down Mr. Periwinkle without flinching? I don’t believe it.”
“A pig is one thing—”
“A massive, cantankerous pig.”
“Forgetting one of Eleanor’s instructions is something else entirely.”
He smiled, a true, honest-to-God smile. “You are quite right about that. My apologies. You’ve had a terrifying week.”
“Exactly my point.”
“And…?”
“And she has kept me so busy that I could barely think, much less worry, or be terrified. She has me studying Russian because I’m supposed to be a lost princess.”
“Russian? You don’t look anything like a Russe.”
“That’s what I said.”
He shook his head. “I heard that you were from the Colonies.”
“That’s another one. I don’t understand why I can’t be from Hull.”
“Because…”
They spoke the rest at exactly the same instant.
“No one of interest ever comes from Hull.” It was funny how they both knew what Eleanor would say.
Then he smiled. “Except you, of course.”
“Oh no,” she countered. “Eleanor says I’m not that interesting yet. So I have to be a lost princess.”
“The Colonies are more exciting.”
“I was asked a dozen times what I thought of the red savages. I haven’t the foggiest idea what that means.”
“What did you say?”
“That they were frightening. Savages would be, wouldn’t they?”
“Very clever of you.”
