Page 19 of The Viscount's Silent Pugilist

He sauntered toward them, his alluring almond scent ensconcing Genevieve in a heady cloud. He’d added a fancy tailcoat to his ensemble. Although fashionable, he moved with such powerful masculinity that he’d never be considered a dandy.

“Have you ladies bonded?” he asked, his voice rumbling deep inside Genevieve’s bosom.

“We have,” Lady Davenport said. “Her name is Gen, and her dog’s name is Horatio.”

The viscount met Genevieve’s gaze and smiled. “Gen.”

She smiled back. She couldn’t be sure, but his breath might have hitched.

“Why did you name Floppy Horatio?” Lord Davenport asked.

Lady Davenport pointed at the makeshift desk indicating Genevieve should write her response. Genevieve scribbled her answer and handed it to the viscount.

He regarded the message. “I see.” He handed the stationery to his mother.

“Horatio remained a loyal friend to Macbeth when everyone else turned on him,” Lady Davenport read out loud.

“An odd choice for a woman living on the streets,” the viscount mumbled under his breath.

“Indeed,” his mother said, winking at Genevieve.

“Obviously, she understands English,” he said. “So why hide it from me?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” his mother said.

His gaze slid to Genevieve. “Why hide it from me?”

My father is a murderer.Shame washed over her, and she dropped her gaze to the carpeting.

Hmm, he murmured.

If he was recalling all of the secrets he’d confided in her, he was probably irate. She’d never forgive him if the tables were turned. She held her breath, awaiting a scathing rebuke.

“Gen,” he said, “shall we take Floppy for a walk?”

That was not at all what she’d expected him to say. This was the longest she’d been away from Horatio since they’d met, and she missed him very much. She met the viscount’s gaze and nodded. Standing, she placed the writing accoutrements on the closest side table.

“Jonathan,” Lady Davenport said. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Call in the cavalry.” He winked at Genevieve as if sharing a secret with her.

“Scamp.” His mother’s lips quivered as she tried not to smile. “Perhaps weshouldintroduce Gen to Josephine and Franny.”

Genevieve winced.

“Oh?” Lord Davenport asked. “You’ve reconsidered my idea?”

“Heavens no,” Lady Davenport said. “I don’t want to turn her into a pugilist. I’d like her to attend a meeting of The Ladies Autonomy League.”

Overcome by emotion, Genevieve beamed at Lady Davenport.

Chapter Seven

Tapping his fingerson the balustrade, Jonathan sat on the bottom step waiting for Gen and Floppy, who were taking forever. Hemightbe able to call the beauty “Gen”, although with her sapphire-colored eyes,Gemseemed more apropos. But calling a smiling dog with silly ears “Horatio” felt almost sacrilegious.

His house guest, the human female—not the cute mutt—was a conundrum. Filthy one minute. Beautiful and elegant, the next. Practically starving to death, but she moved like a panther and fought like a warrior. She understood English but had pretended not to, and she refused to speak. She seemed terrified of him but had bonded with his mother instantly. Hell, the women had been laughing when he walked into the drawing room. The most confusing thing about her was that even when she was dressed in filthy rags, Gen carried herself as if she were a princess. At the moment his head hurt, so he’d contemplate this conundrum of a woman another day.

From behind him, Floppy barked, interrupting his thoughts.