“Yes.” He took another sip of his drink. “I run a boxing club now, for toffs with nothing better to do than spend their money pretending to be rough. Well, some of them aren’t so bad. But I also train fighters who actually compete. Including a few women.”
She drew in a long breath. “Esme as a fighter?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “One punch landed well doesn’t mean much. But at the least she would have more options in her arsenal for the next poxy fuck who tries to hurt her.”
Jane’s lips tightened. “And at the most?”
“Perhaps she’d find a different way to support herself if she hates doing it from her back so much,” he said softly. “Making money from your body can come in many forms.”
“And the life isn’t for everyone,” Jane agreed with a sigh. “Let me give her a few days and I’ll…I’ll talk to her about it. Bring her by your place to let her see for herself if she wants to try.”
“Do you need the address?” he asked.
She stood and he did the same. “No, Ripley. I already knew about the club. I think it’s wonderful you’ve been able to find a different way out. Through. You should be proud of yourself.”
He felt a ripple of that pride work through him at her words. As if her offering him that allowed him to accept it instead of brush it off because it felt too sharp and breakable. They stared at each other a long moment and then he smoothed his jacket.
“I-I should leave you to your friend,” he said. “And I look forward to hearing from you—er, her—er, you both, soon.”
She smiled and motioned him to the door. There they both paused and she stared up at him, those dark blue eyes focused entirely on his face. Her stare froze him there, unbreathing, as if that would disturb the moment.
“Thank you for saving her,” Jane said softly. Her hand came up, her fingers stroked over the roughness of his cheek. And just as he’d always known when he pictured her touching him over the years since he’d first seen her, it was heaven. It was heat. It was everything.
But she pulled away and broke the stare before it could move to anything else. “Good night.”
He nodded. “Good night.”
And then he left her, his hands shaking, his heart beating hard in his chest. He drove away and everything that had told him he had to be very careful about this woman screamed even louder now after he’d felt her touch.
If Esme agreed to his suggestion that she learn to fight, he and Jane would be closer than ever. He’d have to figure out how to maintain distance if he wanted to survive that unscathed.
CHAPTER 1
1812
Jane Kendall stood in the middle of the shop and looked around, wondering at the fact that it was hers. After a lifetime of roughness and pain, a life she’d accepted and even enjoyed from time to time, this new venture still felt…odd.
It was her friend Esme’s fault. Though Jane supposed she couldn’t call her Esme anymore. She was now the Countess of Delacourt, after marrying her earl just a few months before. Esme was back in Society where she belonged. Jane was happy for her.
But she also felt such…loss. Of her friend, of her regular life. She never said it, of course. Esme and Delacourt had so kindly helped her, she didn’t want to be ungrateful. And yet she was…bored by being settled. Bored and out of place.
The bell on the shop door rang as it opened and she jerked herself back into place and time. She forced a smile to her face, one that fell as the woman who had entered on a gentleman’s arm glanced at her. She knew the lady. Intimately. It was the Viscountess Bowerton and the gentleman with her was her husband.
She swallowed and stepped forward. “Welcome, my lord, my lady.”
The woman halted in her steps and stared at her a moment before she turned up her nose without acknowledging Jane and walked away to look at a few items on a display closest to the door.
“Good afternoon,” the gentleman said, oblivious to the tension between the women. He looked around. “You must be Miss Kendall. I think you took over the place from Old Weasley a few months ago, yes?”
She nodded and glanced at the viscountess again. “Er, yes. I assume you were a patron of his. I hope I shall provide the same service that he did.”
From across the room, the viscountess snorted. Her husband looked at her, his lips pursing, and then nodded and went to the other side of the room to browse alone.
Jane’s heart was pounding. She hadn’t run the shop for long and though she had considered the fact that a former lover might, in fact likely would, one day come through her doors, it was quite another thing to actually experience it. And to have it be Elizabeth Bowerton, a fine lover but not a particularly nice person even when they’d occasionally met for sex years before…well, that made it all the more uncomfortable.
She fiddled with some items in a display case in front of her, half-watching the viscountess as she huffed around the store. At last, she glanced over her shoulder at her husband and then stomped over to Jane. She glared at her and in a harsh whisper said, “I didn’t know it was you who took over from Weasley.”
“Yes, my lady,” Jane said softly. “I’m sorry it’s a surprise to you. But I-I assure you I would never say anything about our…previous arrangement.”
