her hurting. It made something churn inside him and that just made him angry, as no one but his family created that kind of reaction in him, and he should not feel anything for her, because she was not a woman he could ever contemplate a future with.
Spending the past few mornings riding through the park with her should not have been the highlight of his day, but it was. He would wake with a foolish smile at the prospect of seeing her. She would then tease and torment him into doing what she wanted, and he loved that, too.
"I thought Ted was to tutor me, my lady," he’d said to her the first morning his lessons had begun, to which she’d replied that Ted was sensitive and she feared he could not withstand any of the insults Ace was likely to throw at his head.’
She was mouthy, sharp-witted and the need inside him to see her was becoming dangerous, and something he needed to address soon. And now someone had hurt her, and Ace hadn’t hesitated—he needed to see her to make sure for himself she was all right, so he was at present standing in the cold on Luke's doorstep.
God, what a mess.
"Mr. Dillinger." The butler smiled at him after opening the door. "I’m afraid Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher are from home, but we expect them back at any moment."
"Good evening, Vickers." Ace walked inside and then handed his outer clothing to the man. "It is actually Lady Althea that I wish to see. I have just heard about the incident in the park today."
"Yes, a nasty business," the butler said. "She is taking tea in the front parlor. I shall see if she is receiving visitors."
Ace stood in the entranceway, looking around him as the butler walked down the hallway. Bella had made the house homely and it vastly differed from the one he had walked through many months ago with Luke, who at the time was unsure if he wanted to purchase it. Back then, his friend had been straddling two worlds, unsure where he fit, but now he knew his place in society and was happy to be one of the new breed of men whose numbers were steadily increasing in England—industrialists and businessmen who lived on the periphery of those who fought against change.
"Mr. Dillinger has called, my lady." He heard Vickers speak and impatience made him move towards the door.
"Please show him in then, Vickers, and bring some fresh tea."
He heard her voice and relief coursed through Ace. If she could talk then surely she was not too badly hurt. Walking passed the butler as he left, he found her seated before the fire in a pale lavender dress with a blanket over her legs. At her feet were small, matching slippers which told Ace her feet were bare, and for some foolish reason he wanted to see them.
"Mr. Dillinger, I’m sorry, I was not expecting company and I’m afraid Luke and Bella have gone to visit friends briefly."
She hurried to slip her feet back into her slippers, giving him only a glance at the pale, slender toes, before she then stood. There was no book on the table beside her or letters; in fact ,she appeared simply to be staring into the fire. Ace studied her face, saw the vulnerability that he had never seen before and then the darkening bruise on her jaw.
"Dear God." He was at her side in seconds, his fingers on her chin. "This must hurt like the devil."
"I-I, it is better now," she whispered, wrapping her hand around his wrist, but doing nothing to push his hand aside.
"No, it’s not," he rasped. "From experience, I know it hurts like the devil.
Her lashes fluttered closed briefly. "Yes, it does, and in truth I’m quite tired of saying it doesn’t." Her words were whispered and the smile that trembled on her lips was small. "I have no idea how you endured this during your time fighting, Mr. Dillinger. Yet another reason why I was deluding myself into believing I could ever climb into the ring with anyone."
"You, my lady, are the strongest woman I know, and battles do not need to all be fought using strength."
"I-I have always thought of myself as
C. J. Cherryh
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