‘Fighting, sir? Or courting?’
‘Impudent devil. I shudder to think what goes on in your imagination if you think I could get into this state courting.’ Although come to think of it, the afternoon had certainly advanced his relationship with Sophie Wilmott.
‘A jealous rival?’ The valet circled him. ‘Tsk. How did you get out of your coat?’
‘Painfully. I dislocated the shoulder joint and the doctor wanted to cut my clothes off.’
‘He might as well have done,’ Flynn said as he tossed the coat aside and held up Cal’s boots to study the scuffed leather. ‘This lot is fit for the rag and bone man. I’ll send for hot water, you’ll want to bathe before those bruises get any worse and you seize up completely.’ He paused with one hand on the bell pull. ‘And is the lady who brought you home unhurt herself?’
‘The lady almost ran me down,’ Cal said with a straight face, provoking a whistle of surprise.
‘And I thought Naples was dangerous.’
Ah yes, Naples. That had been fun. Dirty, dangerous, violent and full of dark-eyed, voluptuous women, most of whom came with knife-wielding brothers or husbands. He had been a married man of course, but even so, flirting had been almost obligatory. And Jared had been bedding one married beauty and he suspected that Flynn had been up to something with her younger brother… that evening the three of them, swords drawn, had only just managed to escape alive.
Good times – ‘Damn it!’ Having the strapping removed was almost as painful as having it applied and certainly an antidote to reminiscence.
Finally the large copper bath was filled and Cal sank into it with a wince, wondering if it was going to take a block and tackle to haul him out. But this was too good to worry about that now. He closed his eyes, inhaled lemon verbena-scented steam and contemplated courting Sophie Wilmott in earnest and not simply as a means to needle Ralph.
What was his equivalent of Sophie’s WWIGG list? W for well-bred – this theoretical woman was going to be a duchess, when all was said and done. I for Intelligent, definitely, or he’d be bored in a week. F for Faithful. He had no tolerance for infidelity. Beautiful? Not necessarily. What was inside was more important. Elegant was more like it. Beyond that he wasn’t fussy. Preferably not a brunette again, definitely not a vapid giggler and hopefully without irritating baggage in the shape of strange or impecunious relatives.
What did that make? W.I.F.E., of course. He’d take that as a good omen that he should proceed with courting someone. So, think about Sophie. Blonde, elegant in a lively kind of way. Intelligent. Good family. And beautiful. Very beautiful. That guinea-gold hair, those blue eyes, that slender, curved figure, those long fingers caressing the reins, closing round the whip handle…
‘Sweet dreams?’
Cal woke up with a painful jolt, slid beneath the water and came up spluttering to glare at Jared Hunt who lounged against the wall at the foot of the bath regarding him with an evil grin.
‘What?’
Hunt pointed at the bath. ‘I was expecting to find you battered, bruised and nursing your injuries, not daydreaming with an impressive cock-stand breaking the surface. Who is she?’
Cal looked down. Ah. Yes, probably another sign that he should be courting Miss Sophie Wilmott.
Chapter Four - Where Sophie Becomes Uncertain
‘I am not bandying a lady’s name about over the bathwater.’ Cal lobbed a wet sponge at Hunt who ducked, swearing.
He stayed bent over the bath studying Cal’s damaged body with the detachment of a fencing master assessing the fitness of his pupil, his long, tightly-plaited queue sliding over her shoulder. ‘Strange that you can journey round the world with scarcely a scratch and the moment you are back in England you end up battered and bruised.’
‘This was definitely an accident.’ Cal sat up and began to soap himself one-handed. ‘But I am contemplating some provocative action that should produce a reaction if anyone does have an eye on my title.’
‘Marriage would certainly do that, if that’s what’s preoccupying you,’ Hunt agreed. He hefted a jug of clean water and poured it over Cal’s head.
He came up spluttering. ‘And the lady in question may well be of interest to my cousin. Give me a hand to get out, will you?’