Free A Woman Scorned by Liz Carlyle Page A

smacked his hands palms down upon the table and leaned intently forward. “Sit down, gentlemen!” he bellowed. “There shall be no hitting. No bayoneting. No shooting. No knifing. No violence of any sort! Am I understood?”
    “Yes, sir,” muttered Robert, righting the chair, which had been knocked over, and settling into it.
    Stuart shot his brother one last ugly glance. “Oh, all right,” he reluctantly agreed, shoving in his shirttails with a suppressed violence.
    “And don’t say
arse
,” added Cole for good measure, wondering even as he said it just what he had gotten his own arse into. Nanna, it seemed, had been right. Lady Mercer’s children really did appear to be willful, undisciplined hellions. Blood would always tell, it seemed.
    Robert squirmed in his seat, then brightened a bit. He was obviously the more blithe of the two boys, but even his ebullience could not hide the fact that he was just a little uneasy. “Anyway, sir, I knew you were a Dragoon when I saw you spying on us from the alley.”
    “Shut up, Robin!” snapped his elder brother. “Don’t be bloody stupid!”
    “I wasn’t spying.” Cole looked quickly from one to the other, wondering what lay behind their words. “And don’t ever say
bloody
again, Stuart! Moreover, do not call your brother stupid. He is mistaken, that is all. I was merely strolling in the alley so that I would not arrive early for my meeting with your mother.”
    “But Duncan was worried you
might
be a spy,” argued Robert, obviously reluctant to let go of his notion. “I saw him watching you. He thought you were a suspicious character lurking about,” he added, clearly parroting something he had heard.
    Stuart darkened his scowl. “A ‘suspicious character’ does not walk up the alley in broad daylight, you lack-wit. A ‘suspicious character’ will just leap out of the dark and throttle you senseless. Or murder you when no one is looking—just like with Papa.” His manner seemed on the surface merely scornful, until one realized that an element of some darker emotion lay behind it.
    A sudden, oppressive chill settled over the room, and Cole felt the skin prickle up the back of his neck. Trying to ignore it, he turned his full attention to the younger boy. “Duncan? Is that the big, red-haired fellow in the back? Your gardener?”
    “Ha! Fooled you,” said Robert, his saucy grin returning. “Duncan’s our head groom from Kildermore Castle. But now, he’s to stand out back, and keep watch for—
ouch!
”
    Stuart’s blow made solid contact this time, his open palm smacking Robert soundly across the back of the sconce. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Robin! You’ve a mouth as big as a beer keg!”
    Cole dropped his head into his hands, suppressing the urge to walk straight down to Whitehall and plead for a speedy dispatch to the Punjab. Even excessive heat and questionable rations had to be easier than this. At least in the army, Cole knew how to command his troops. “Please do not ever take our Savior’s name in vain, Stuart,” he managed to grumble from behind his splayed fingers.
    How in heaven had he ever thought himself qualified for this job? It had been years since he had tutored, and even then he had taken one student at a time, and always older boys than these. It should have been a simple job, but it wasn’t. It simply wasn’t.
    “Are you done being our tutor now, Captain Amherst?” Robert’s question was soft this time, a little chagrined. Cole looked up to see a face that seemed to be the epitome of childhood innocence. Robert’s eyes were wide, a startlingly vivid shade of green, and his dark auburn hair curled, almost pixie-fashion, about his ears. He could hardly have looked more unlike his brother.
    “No, Robin,” he said softly. “I’m afraid you’ll not escape me quite that easily. Now, I wish to speak with your brother, and I do not want you to interrupt. I shall ask him some questions about his previous studies, and