Page 127 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
He came toward her and took the brush from her hand, using it with steady strokes. But once in the light, she saw a dark bruise under his eye.
She spun around, jerking her hair painfully. “What happened?” She reached up to his face though he shied away from her touch.
“I’ve been helping out Bow Street lately. Brilliant man there named Samuel Morrison. Cleverest man I’ve ever met, but he’s not nearly as good with his fives as he needs.”
She frowned, not understanding. He made a fist. “His fives. He specializes in catching murderers, but he needs a partner to help him.”
“That’s you?”
He nodded. “Pays well, and it’s work I’m suited for.”
Except when he took a punch to the face. He saw her looking and lifted her hand to his lips for a kiss.
“Lucky throw. Murdering thief had a partner with a jug.”
“You got hit with a jug! You could have lost an eye. Good God—”
He leaned down and silenced her horror with a kiss. And after he’d thoroughly distracted her, he drew away. “Now tell me about your other proposal.”
“What?”
He smirked. He always smirked when she was lust-dazed. “The other marriage proposal.”
She grimaced. “Oh, that. Viscount Wickersham.”
“He’s old enough to be your father.”
“He is exactly the same age as my father. Or would be, if my father had survived. But he’s wealthy enough, and he’s a solid candidate according to Eleanor.”
“But he’s old.”
“I know,” she said. Then she mimicked Eleanor’s tone. “He’s at an unfortunate age. Too old to be handsome, especially with the way he eats.”
“He does have a paunch.”
That was putting it mildly. Then she continued in Eleanor’s voice. “But not so old as to make you a wealthy widow while you’re still in your looks.”
He grunted. “Trust Eleanor to see profit in a man’s death.”
“She says it’s an important consideration.”
“Of course it is,” he said, his tone impassive as he gently turned her around to continue brushing her hair.
She let him, watching his face in the mirror. Damn the man for hiding from her. What she wouldn’t give to know his feelings.
“Bram—”
“Anyone else?”
“What?”
“Any other offers?”
She shook her head.
“Don’t despair. It’s the early days yet.”
The Season was half gone. “Grandfather will not pay for another Season. He wants me married by Michaelmas.”
