Page 30 of Earl of St. Seville

If St. Seville were rattled or leery in response to her announcement, he was quick to hide it with a tentative smile. “I would expect nothing less, my lady.”

Patience shook her head. “First off, do not call me my lady or Lady Patience while at Southlund’s House.”

“What am I to call you?” he asked, as if appalled by her command.

“Patience will do.”

“And what is your second condition, Patience?” he asked.

“That was not my first condition, my lord,” she countered. “My first condition is that you are to listen and heed my advice…at all times.”

Part of her longed to examine her motives for adding at all times and not merely stating while they were training. The sudden stiffness in his posture told her that he wondered the same.

“I think I can agree to that readily enough.” He shrugged and turned back to her mother’s portrait as if her first condition weren’t overly troubling. “Next?”

Patience swallowed past the lump that had formed in her throat, knowing if he were to find fault with any of her conditions, this would be the one. “We train, you win your freedom from Holstrom, and stop boxing. Find another way to secure the funds needed to save your family.”

“You cannot be serious,” he growled.

“I most certainly am, my lord.”

“And how do you propose I save my family and lands?”

It was Patience’s turn to shrug. “We shall find a way.”

“We?” he questioned.

“If I am the reason you are to give up pugilism as a career choice, then isn’t it also my duty to make certain I assist you in finding another way to support your estate?” She’d gone over and over this discussion in her head a hundred times since she departed the Albany the previous night. He had to accept her help—and her conditions. He was not the first lord to find himself on the brink of financial ruin. How did those men return from the precipice? Putting his life in danger was not the answer, for his people would be ruined if he failed. “Do you agree?”

His brow rose in question. “To your condition or your reasoning?”

“Both, I would presume,” she replied, really glancing at her mother’s portrait for the first time, immediately regretting her weakness. The sight of her mother just before the prize match in which her father had spotted her for the first time brought tears to Patience’s eyes. “But it is only my condition you must agree to at the moment.”

“You have led me to believe I have no chance of besting other prizefighters without your assistance,” he said. “So, truly, I have no option but to agree to any condition you set forth.”

“Very true,” she said, glancing down to cover the pain she suspected was evident in her eyes at being at Southlund’s again. St. Seville was a force of a man, yet he gave in easily to her demands. At any other time, Patience would have been thrown off guard by his ready acquiescence. “This way to the sparring ring.”

She didn’t wait for his reply, but pushed past him and moved in the direction of the boxing room.

“That cannot be your only two conditions, my lady!” he called, hurrying behind her.

“How quickly you break my first rule.” A hint of true laughter rose in her tone. “There is only one final thing, and I cannot think you will deny me it after agreeing to the other two,” Patience threw over her shoulder as she rounded the corner into the sparing room. Thankfully, there was but one man using the area, and he was only standing against the far wall.

St. Seville caught up with her as she halted several feet into the room.

“What is the final condition?”

“Tell me why they call you Sin.” It was likely the condition that piqued her interest the most. Certainly, it was a shortened version of his first name, Sinclair, but a name like Sin did not come without some story—or without some truth behind it.

Each of her demands came with their own motivation. First and foremost, Patience was acutely concerned that Holstrom, and possibly Coventry, was taking severe advantage of Sin. Both for their own gains. Next, Patience loathed the thought of a fighter being harmed when she could have helped.

Lastly, he was handsome as sin.

Never had Patience met a man who captured her notice so fully…and as the daughter of an earl, Patience had gained the acquaintance of nearly every eligible lord in all of England. Every rogue, rake, and scoundrel of worth had been presented to her during her three Seasons. None had left any lasting impression, only disdain and revulsion. Sometimes both at once.

“There is no grand meaning behind the name, but if that is your final condition, I readily agree.” He moved farther into the room and pulled his white linen shirt over his head, revealing his chiseled chest and broad, muscled shoulders.

“Oh, I am certain there is a titillating tale behind the name,” Patience muttered, thankful that Sin was far enough away that he didn’t hear her words or the longing behind them. She crossed her arms over her blouse to hide the hardening peaks of her nipples as her cheeks flushed with heat. “Mayhap I am in need of conditions for this bargain, as well.”