Adult larks were giving lessons to the younger ones. Pippa passed a room covered in mats, where a female lark demonstrated defensive maneuvers and ways to evade an attacker. In the next room, a male lark was blowing on a whistle as his smaller comrades scaled ropes suspended from the ceiling and practiced balancing upon narrow wood beams. The room after that had a group of adults clustered around a chalkboard, writing down…the prices of crops and coal? One of the larks spotted Pippa and closed the door.
“You train your charges rigorously,” Pippa mused.
Cull cast a glance back at her. “I don’t send them out unprepared.”
Hearing his disgruntled tone, she realized she’d unintentionally offended him. Before she could apologize, the boy tucked beneath Cull’s arm spoke.
“Cull don’t let us go on missions unless we’re ready.” The tot twisted his head to look at her. “I ’aven’t gone on one yet on account o’ failing the reading test.”
“You’re taught to read?” Pippa said in surprise.
The mudlarks’ curriculum had more similarities to the Hunt Academy than she’d first supposed.
“Curb your tongue, lad,” Cull said curtly. “That is mudlark business.”
Teddy fell silent until they reached the infirmary, which contained neatly made cots and a wall lined with cupboards. A woman with salt-and-pepper hair was folding linens on a table. When Cull set Teddy down, the boy ran over to her.
“Mrs. Needles!” Teddy cried.
The lady crouched, meeting him eye to eye. “Oh, dear. Back again, Teddy?”
“I banged me ’ead,” the child said solemnly. “It ’urts.”
“Let’s go take a look at that lump, shall we?” Mrs. Needles stood up, her gaze landing on Pippa. “Beg your pardon, ma’am. I didn’t see you there.”
“This is Mrs. Needles, our matron.” Cull paused, raising his brows in silent question.
Appreciating his discretion, Pippa introduced herself. “I am Pippa Lumley. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Needles.”
“She pushed Cull out o’ ’arm’s way,” Teddy exclaimed. “Brave one, ain’t she?”
“Indeed. I am doubly pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Mrs. Needles shifted her gaze to Cull. “Why, Cull, your arm is bleeding. I’ll need to bandage that up.”
“You take care of Teddy.” Cull glanced at Pippa, his gaze unfathomable. “Mrs. Lumley has volunteered to look after me.”
Cull was playing with fire, and he knew it.
Having Pippa this close was a mistake, but he couldn’t make himself put a stop to it. They were in one of the private rooms, which Mrs. Needles used to treat more serious injuries. Cull’s wound wasn’t serious by any means, but he wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to be naked on a bed with Pippa. Even if the bed was a cot, and he was sitting on it while Pippa stood. And all right, he was the only one naked and hardly that: he was down to his shirtsleeves, his sleeve rolled up so that she could fix his arm.
But Christ Almighty, it felt good to be near her.
She didn’t seem as taken with the situation. She kept her gaze studiously on his nicked forearm, cleaning the gash with hot water, an adorable furrow between her brows. Call him depraved, but he fancied her in men’s garb, which accentuated her femininity. Her trousers outlined her long, slender legs. She’d removed her cap and coat, the rounded mounds of her breasts straining her waistcoat in eye-popping ways. Her hair was simply coiled at her nape, stray swirls of sunshine escaping and framing her face.
“You’ll live,” she announced.
I’d die a happy man where I am.“Thank you,” he said.
“I didn’t do much.” She wound a bandage around his arm, her head bent over the task. “Just cleaned you up a bit.”
“You risked your neck to save mine. You could have been hurt.” Dark energy pumped through his veins; if anything had happened to her because of him, he would lose his bloody mind. “Don’t do anything that stupid again.”
Her head snapped up. “You are calling me stupid?”
Bleeding hell.He’d never been good with words.
“Not you. Your actions,” he began.
She braced her hands on her slim hips. “So you are saying Iactedstupidly.”
