Free How I Met My Countess by Elizabeth Boyle

sits in the House of Lords,” Lucy said. Then, without realizing what she was doing, she stole a glance at the earl. Their gazes met and she was trapped, much as she had been earlier.
    His deep blue eyes seemed to have darkened, and she found herself unable to look away. Lucy swore she could hear his commanding voice, what he was thinking as he studied her.
    Don’t think this is going to be settled so easily, Lucy.
    She wrenched her gaze away and went back to the roast, cutting at it with a dangerous vigor.
    Behind her, Rusty chuckled. “Seems to me yer da was paying the wrong fellow to teach you, milord. Should have hired this lad from the village. He sounds like old Bruno back in the Dials. ’Member him, Sammy? Always spoiling for a fight? A meaner cur never walked the streets.”
    “Taught you that hook, I’d guess,” Clifton said, catching up the steak she held out for him at the end of a meat fork. Yet when he settled it awkwardly against his swollen eye, much as Sammy had, she reached out and readjusted it, settling it into place and guiding his hand as to how to hold it.
    But that was a mistake, for the moment her fingers brushed against his, that spark, that fire she’d felt in the lane when he’d taken her in his arms, when he’d been about to kiss her, flowed through her like a bit of lightning, catching her unawares and shocking her with an awareness that left her breathless.
    This time, she knew better than to glance at him. She turned quickly and fled to the sink, where she could wash her hands in hopes that the cool water would quell the unwanted fires the earl provoked.
    “Aye, he did,” Sammy said proudly. “Didn’t expect that, did you?”
    “No,” Clifton admitted. “But don’t think it will work a second time. Never quite seen a hook like that.”
    “Sort of the same bit of magic you used to take down Monday Moggs, eh, Goosie? Chopped him right good, didn’t you, girl?” Sammy slapped his knee. “Ain’t a gel this side of the Dials with a better right hook than our girl Goosie.”
    Lucy cringed, her eyes scrunched shut and her back still to the earl. “Samuel Trouncer! I haven’t the vaguest notion of ever—”
    Sammy just waved her protests aside. “Ah, how like you, Goosie. Modest as you are sweet.” He turned to the earl and winked. “Don’t let that fair face and those sweet lips fool you, guv’nor. ’Iffin you know what’s good for you, you’ll never cross our girl here. She’ll send you aloft without a second thought. Just ask ’ol Monday.”
    “Oh, that is quite enough out of you,” she said, pointing toward the door. “One more word, Mr. Trouncer, and you’ll—” Lucy’s threat stopped in midsentence as out of the corner of her eye she spied Clifton watching her, one brow raised, a sly smile on his handsome lips.
    The dastardly fellow. She huffed a bit and turned from him. He would find her mortification amusing.
    “Your brother, does he know how to do that left cut of yours?” Rusty asked, changing the subject.
    Clifton paused, pulling his gaze away from her. “No, he doesn’t. But I would be quite remiss if I didn’t tell you that he favors his right side,” he said with a grin, and all three of them raised their glasses in a conspiratorial toast.
    Lucy wiped her hands on the towel, then fisted them to her hips. “Oh, now I’ve seen everything. A pair of dodgers like you, looking for the advantage to take down a pigeon. You should both be ashamed of yourselves. Why, you sound like a pair of old men.”
    “Old men?!” Sammy protested. “Do you think I want to go back to the Dials looking worse than I already do? I’ve got me reputation to keep.”
    “And me as well, Goosie-girl,” Rusty said. “Can’t have it getting out we got beat. Not something a man likes to remember.”
    “Aye, and has a devil of a time forgetting,” his partner added. “Not when the evidence is right there on his mug for all to see.” He tapped his cheek, then