Page 56 of Outrageous

“If I lose I can’t protect you, Eva—but you will be able to help me if you can get to a constable.”

She gave a rough jerk of her head and snatched the gun. “I promise.”

Godric smiled. “Good girl. Now, keep an eye on Flynn and his men—I’m sure they have knives and such hidden on their persons, although this lot likely wouldn’t have a gun small enough to hide.”

Eva nodded.

“I don’t trust Flynn any farther than I can throw him.” Both their eyes slid to the Falstaffian highwayman.

“Me either,” Eva said.

Godric grinned and gave her a quick, hard kiss before nudging her shocked person toward Andrew, who had a gun in each hand and was visibly shaking.

“Keep an eye on Andrew—make sure he doesn’t blow off his own head.”

A tiny smile played around her lips, but her eyes told a different story.

“Go on,” Godric urged. He waited until she was beside the boy before turning to Flynn’s men. “So, which of you would like to beat on a peer?”

It didn’t surprise him when the strapping blond man with fury in his eyes stepped forward.

Godric smirked around at the silent men as he unbuttoned his sodden coat, his fingers moving slowly from the cold. “What? No vote, first?”

His opponent glared. “You think that’s funny, don’t you—the likes of us thinking we have the right to have a say in how things run—to vote.”

Godric snorted as he handed his coat to Eva, who took it without ever lowering the gun from Flynn. “Yes. I think it’s funny that a band of thieves and deserters think they deserve the vote.”

The other man scowled as he threw his oil-slicked coat to one of his companions and began working on his regimental coat, which had been overdyed an unattractive gray-brown.

Godric didn’t blame the man for making use of what was probably the best-made garment he’d ever owned. He knew most soldiers who’d fought in the war had come out of it with little more than the clothing on their backs, and some, like Donny, the wizard with the coach wheel, had come out with far less. But he did blame the men for their desertion.

“Your sort has always viewed ours as if we’ve no more brains than a draught horse. Cannon fodder, that’s all we are to you.”

“Actually,” Godric said casually, removing his waistcoat, “I support the expansion of the franchise—although I draw the line at including criminals.”

The man took a step toward him, his expression murderous. “You’re nothing but a—”

“Steady on, Paul,” Flynn said, stepping between them and putting the flat of his hand on his furious minion’s chest.

Paul scowled but stayed where he was. They both pulled their shirts over their heads at the same time and Godric had to admit the other man stripped to considerable advantage. He was an inch shorter than Godric, but a good stone heavier, his thick muscles obviously honed by years of work.

When Godric turned to give Eva his shirt, he couldn’t resist smiling at the way her eyes caressed his torso; what man—closer to forty than thirty—wouldn’t be gratified to have a beautiful woman look at him like that?

“All right, then—the rules,” Flynn bellowed, clearly getting into his role as master of ceremonies.

Godric ignored Flynn’s self-important babbling, his eyes on Eva as he stretched his body to warm up his cold muscles. He flexed his torso and twisted at the waist, grimacing at the pops that rippled down his spine. He knew he was showing off for her, like a cock for a hen, but the look on her face—mute desire—warmed him far more than the few exercises.

Her pupils flared and he knew she was thinking of last night. Remembering how she’d looked while he knelt before her sent blood rushing south. For the first time since he’d woken up with that knot on his head, Godric actually looked forward to marrying her. Not just to warm his bed, but because he liked her spirit and the way she made him feel alive. Who knew? Maybe they’d find a way to rub along. If they didn’t kill each other first.

“Ready, my lord?” Flynn yelled behind him.

Godric gave her one last look and then turned away; he was as ready as he’d ever be.

* * *

Eva’s heart was pounding and sweat was mingling with the relentless rain. She backed closer to Andrew, keeping her eyes and gun on Flynn, although he and the rest of his men appeared enrapt at the sight of a disgraced soldier stepping up against a national hero.

“Godric said to keep an eye on them,” Eva told Andrew when she reached his side. “Can you hold the gun straight while cradling that bloody blunderbuss?” she snapped when he didn’t immediately respond.