Page 31 of The Boxing Baroness

She looked from Sin to Guy to Elliot; neither was smiling.

“Then this is some sort of prank? I know aristocratic men like to make ridiculous wagers to alleviate the boredom in their pointless lives. That’s what this is, right? A prank?”

“No. It is not a prank or a wager. It is a serious request. You need to get the three of us jobs with your uncle’s circus. You read the letter—we will need to carry a great deal of money with us as well as bring my brother home in some sort of conveyance. Nobody will notice an extra caravan along with your uncle’s circus.”

“Fine. Then why can’t you simply follow along behind in your caravan?”

“Because two peers and a servant of the Crown showing up armed in a foreign country—at this particular time—would cause no small number of political difficulties. And you read what Dominic said about Elliot. We must appear to blend in and not raise any eyebrows. If the other members of the circus saw a caravan with men who did nothing, that would raise eyebrows. We need jobs. We need to go unnoticed.”

She gave a breathless laugh and shook her head. “My uncle has already engaged everyone he needs for the tour. With the war over, there is brisk competition for crews. We aren’t the only ones who are taking advantage of the first opportunity to tour in decades. The people he’s hired are skilled and strong and accustomed to long days and back-breaking work. They know how to move props and people speedily and efficiently.”

Sin remained silent.

She flung up her hands. “Even if you did possess the skills necessary to do those jobs and I could persuade my uncle to hire you, what, exactly, am I supposed to do with the people my uncle has already engaged? Give them the sack because a couple of peers have decided it would be a lark to play at work?” Her angry question echoed in the room for a moment, and St. John could feel Guy’s and Elliot’s stunned reactions to Marianne Simpson’s raw aggression.

“I do not expect anyone to suffer by my actions,” he said mildly, refusing to be insulted by her imputation that the three of them were lazy, useless weaklings. “I will generously compensate anyone who is displaced, Miss Simpson. I will pay them double what your uncle pays—just to sit at home and do nothing for the rest of the year. Would that suffice?”

She inhaled deeply and then let the air out in a noisy gust. “Even if some of the workers might accept that offer, what is it that the three of you are fit to do? All the jobs are either menial—meaning lots of toting, lugging, fetching, cooking, cleaning, and carrying—or they require a great deal of skill, like a carpenter or seamstress.” She smirked. “Do any of you sew or paint theatrical sets?”

He ignored her dig. “I daresay we could manage toting, lugging, fetching, and so forth.”

She laughed.

“Perhaps you might share the joke, Miss Simpson?” Sin asked coolly.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, I’m just imagining you taking orders from circus employees—people who would certainly notice your lack of experience even with simple tasks. But assuming they don’t notice, I’m picturing you—a duke—willingly and obediently fetching and carrying and so forth.” She spoke the last three words in a deep-voiced, fair approximation of his accent.

“I am no stranger to physical exertion.”

“It’s not the exertion part that I’m concerned about.” Her lips twitched. “I have to admit there is something appealing about the thought of you carrying my luggage.”

Guy burst out laughing. “Lord, you two! Perhaps you need to tie on mufflers and go at it for a few rounds to sort matters out?”

Sin cut his gregarious friend a stern look; Miss Simpson needed no encouragement when it came to behaving obstreperously.

Fortunately, she didn’t even appear to hear Guy—which was strange. It was an unusual woman who didn’t notice Gaius Darlington, a man who was widely considered one of the most attractive and eligible bachelors in Britain.

Marianne Simpson was proving herself singular in several ways.

“Let us say that I can manage to find three extremely menial positions for you; how can you believe that you will go unnoticed?”

“I can alter my appearance,” Sin assured her.

Again, she laughed, but this was more of a disbelieving snort. “Well, I’ll have to take your word for that, I suppose.”

“Yes, you will, Miss Simpson. You should also take my word for the fact that I will not change my mind about this. Nor do I wish to keep arguing the matter. It was my understanding that your presence here tonight indicated we had reached an arrangement.”

“That is because I thought you just wanted to—oh, I don’t know, bring your own caravan and follow along behind us. I didn’t know you actually wanted jobs.”

“Well, now you do know.”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

“Now,” Sin went on, “as for claiming that all the positions have been filled, I recall your uncle mentioning that you’ve dragged your heels about hiring Nelson’s replacement—and some other man, too. Andy, was it? So that is two unfilled positions.”

To Sin’s surprise, she didn’t tell him to get stuffed. Instead, she chewed her lip, her gaze turning thoughtful. A moment later she said, more to herself, “Perhaps that isn’t such a bad idea.”

“I beg your pardon?”