Page 69 of The Boxing Baroness

“Which one? The one about the men or about me being a dowd?”

“You are not a dowd. You try to be one.”

“I cannot tell you why they’re traveling with us, and I’d ask that you not tell anyone else their true identities.”

Cecile’s offended scowl told her what she thought about such a superfluous warning. But, to Marianne’s relief, she didn’t pursue the topic. A person never knew with Cecile. Sometimes she could dig in like a wood tick.

“Good afternoon, ladies.”

They turned to find the Marquess of Carlisle grinning down at them. He swept off his tweed cap and gave them a court bow.

Cecile sniffed.

“Hallo, Guy,” Marianne said, amused by the Frenchwoman’s reaction.

“I see you’re both good sailors.” He leaned an elbow on the rail. “Have either of you been seasick before?”

“This is my first trip on a packet.” Marianne frowned. “Actually, that’s not true; it’s my second. But the last time I was barely a month old, so I don’t recall.” She turned to her friend, who was looking at Guy with such intensity it was amazing that his head didn’t burst into flame. “What about you, Cecile? You must recall your last crossing?”

“Yes, I was fourteen. And no, I did not become ill.”

“And how long ago would that have been?” Guy asked.

“That is as bad as asking me my age.”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“I don’t care how old you are,” Cecile retorted.

“Oof!” he said, grabbing his heart. “That’s hitting below the belt.”

“Then I think you should be grabbing something lower.”

He laughed. “It seems pistols are not the only deadly weapons you wield.”

“Speaking of deadly weapons, have you seen Josephine?” Marianne asked, interceding before Cecile shot the teasing peer.

Guy pulled his gaze away from Cecile with obvious effort. “No, I’ve not seen her since last Friday—when she was throwing knives at my head.”

Marianne chuckled.

“I’m pleased to amuse you,” the marquess said tartly. “But I’m not so sure I would have taken this position if I’d known women were going to be using me for target practice.”

“You should be pleased to be useful for a change,” Cecile snapped.

Guy opened his mouth, but then his attention was caught by a tall, familiar, and unwanted figure coming toward them.

“Hallo, Sin.”

The duke nodded at Cecile and Guy and then turned his cold gaze on Marianne. The atmosphere chilled considerably.

“How is Smithy feeling?” Guy asked after it was clear that neither Marianne nor his friend had any intention of speaking, even though they were locked in a glaring war.

The duke blinked slowly at Marianne and then turned to Guy. “Wretched. Although I think that his misery is more from mortification than actual illness. He said he’s never been seasick before.”

“It happens that way,” Guy said. “Even sometimes to seasoned sailors.” His gaze slid to Cecile, who was frowning from Marianne to the duke, and back again.

The four of them stood in uncomfortable silence until Cecile broke it. “I must go and see to something.”