Page 28 of Noble Scoundrel

Now that his debt to Freddie had been repaid and the boy had been reunited with his sister, Mason needed to start planning for a new future. Running stakes for fights had been lucrative, but it was unstable, risky, and occasionally dangerous. With Claire his main priority, he needed to look toward work that was more consistent, and training fighters and bouncers seemed like a good option.

He’d come to his study intending to work on developing more of his plans in regard to the possible new venture. Instead, he sat at his desk thinking of how the woman upstairs had looked with her auburn hair falling in messy waves around her shoulders. And the way her brown eyes flashed beneath furrowed brows when she was annoyed. There was something uniquely intriguing about her features that struck a bold balance between a sort of delicate austerity and simple elegance.

With a sound of frustrated surrender, he withdrew some paper and a piece of charcoal from the desk drawer and began to sketch in broad strokes that eventually transitioned to more detailed lines and delicate curves. After several minutes he paused to take a critical look at the result. He’d managed to capture the basic elements of Lady Katherine’s appearance—the fine bone structure, the wide eyes, the plush lips, and straight, almost heavy eyebrows. But he couldn’t see the fire. The intensity of the woman herself.

He was about to start again on a fresh page when there was a soft knock on the open door. Lady Katherine stood in the threshold.

Her light blue frock was creased and rumpled, her hair was still a tangle down her back, and her injured arm was tucked into the sling. She shouldn’t be on her feet with a twisted ankle, but the woman wasn’t exactly inclined toward taking suggestions from him. Despite her injuries and obvious dishevelment, she still somehow managed to look every inch the gentlewoman.

Poised and perfect. Her posture strong and serene. Even the tone of her voice was softly confident when she spoke. “Mr. Hale.”

When he didn’t reply or move to stand, she released a puff of breath and strode forward into the room with a look of determination he was starting to become familiar with. He should have risen to his feet, but he didn’t. He liked how his rudeness made her press her lips together while her eyes flashed with irritation.

As she neared, she glanced down at the sketch on his desk. A frown darkened her expression as she tilted her head curiously.

With a swift swipe of his hand, the drawing was tucked safely into the drawer of his desk.

Her dark gaze flickered up to meet his. “Mr. Hale,” she repeated.

“That’s me, dove,” he replied with a flippant grin. He didn’t have to be so impertinent, but the desire to shake up the woman’s resolute demeanor was too great a temptation to resist.

Unfortunately, she proved herself a worthy adversary and her gaze remained steady and intent. “Once again I owe you my gratitude. I apologize for not thanking you properly upstairs. In my defense, I was a bit...” She gave a small gesture with her free hand.

“Overwhelmed,” he offered with a tilt to his mouth.

Her eyes sparked. “Agitated.”

Mason chuckled.

She ignored it.

“You must be wondering what is instigating such perilous situations that have twice now required your intervention.”

“Not particularly.”

It appeared she hadn’t been expecting his response as she hesitated before replying. “Well, the truth is we suspect today’s ordeal wasn’t perpetrated by thieves but was likely yet another abduction attempt. I don’t know if Frederick told you this, but the kidnapping by the criminal gang wasn’t the first Frederick experienced. It would seem someone has targeted my brother, though the reason behind it is not yet entirely clear.”

Mason could hazard a guess. A young and wealthy duke without parents or guardian and only an older sister for protection was a vulnerable creature and easy pickings for someone interested in a healthy ransom.

What he couldn’t figure out was why Lady Katherine had decided to discuss the issue with him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Until we know who’s behind the attacks and why, there’s a possibility more attempts will be made against Frederick. It’s become clear that he will need personal protection.”

Mason waited for her to say more. When she didn’t, he leaned back in the chair—tensing when the wood creaked—and crossed an ankle over the opposite knee.

She couldn’t possibly be considering what he suspected.

“My brother is convinced you’re the perfect choice for such a task.”

The look he gave her was filled with incredulity. “Are you asking me to be Freddie’s bodyguard?”

A pause. “I believe I am.”

“You’ve got the wrong man. I’m no hero, luv.”

Her next words were spoken with firm conviction. “I don’t need a hero, Mr. Hale. I need a man as ruthless and mercenary as those who are after Frederick.” She paused to stare at him with dark eyes full of intensity. “I need you.”

Those three little words hit him in the gut with more force than any punch he’d taken in the ring. For a second, his breath got pushed up into his throat while his stomach tightened.

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