Audrey stared at a row of pineapples in the garden table, thinking. Not about the tart, prickly shaped fruit but about Jonathan. He was here, despite the fact that he shouldn’t be, and she had no idea what to do about it. Why was he here? He avoided social gatherings whenever possible, except for dinners with his closest friends. Why hadn’t he written to her in the last week? And why did he have to look so wonderfully handsome and virile? The flurry of questions made her head ache.

While the house party was of a decent size, enough so that they would not need to interact too much, it was still possible that they would be forced into close proximity on occasion. And she would be here for a week. She couldn’t hide in every alcove or duck out of every balcony door when he came toward her; that simply wasn’t possible.

It isn’t in me to retreat. Yet that was exactly what she felt like doing.

With an irritated sigh, she turned around and walked into the hard, imposing body of the very man she had hoped to avoid.

She stepped back and gasped, trying to ignore the sweet scent that clung to his clothes. There was a hint of something else too… Had he been drinking? Her skin prickled as she took in his tall, lean form. She remembered how his bare skin had felt beneath her hand as she’d place her cheek on his chest that night a week ago. The sunlight from the doorway of the succession house illuminated the tips of his dark gold hair, resembling a halo. But Jonathan was no angel—or if he was, he was a fallen one.

“How are they faring?” he asked in that soft, seductive voice she liked far too much.

“How is who faring?” she asked, now focused on his mouth. She should not be remembering the brief but heated kiss they had shared, but he had a way of erasing all rational thought from her mind. It was most disconcerting.

He nodded at the fruit behind her. “The pineapples.”

“Oh! Of course. They are fine.”

“Are they now?” She felt the sudden urge to lift her knee abruptly into his groin. She would like to see him smirking then.

“Why don’t you check on them then?” She started to march past him, but he slid in front of her. His long legs were an advantage she would’ve killed for. Being rather short, she was not blessed with such things.

“I was only teasing you. You were staring at them for an awfully long time.”

He’d been watching her? For how long? And why?

“Humph!” She wasn’t going to let his playful smile have any effect on her. No doubt it was just more of his game playing.

“Well.” His smile faded, and he stared down at her. “I thought it was time for your first lesson. Lucien has a room that’s perfectly suited for training.”

She blinked up at him. “You mean…the fighting lessons? Here?”

“Yes. My ribs are mostly healed, and I think I can handle a tiny thing like you.”

Her body flushed at the way he said handle, as though he had things on his mind other than fighting. But when they’d shared his bed, he’d been a perfect gentleman, just as he said he would be. Other than curling his arm around her waist, no doubt an unconscious habit born from the many others he’d taken to bed with him, he’d done nothing to display his interest. She didn’t like to admit it, but she’d hoped he would have taken advantage of the situation and made love to her. But he hadn’t.

There was such a thing as being too honorable.

“I changed my mind. I don’t think I need lessons after all.” She started to push past, but he caught her wrist. She jerked to a halt and whirled to face him.

“Lesson one.” His grip on her hand was tight enough that she couldn’t get free. “A bad man won’t give you the chance to walk away with your adorable chin held high. They will be bastards. They won’t just want to harm you. They will want to make you feel weak and ineffectual. For example, they will grab your hair.”

He did just that, albeit gently. Her knees weakened as her body flushed with a wave of heat.

“They will drag you close so that you can’t escape. They will try to have their way with you. And they will take more than a kiss from your soft lips.” His head lowered to within an inch of hers, their lips close enough that his warm breath mixed with hers. It made her tremble violently.

“Jonathan…” She was not at all sure what he wanted her to do as she clutched at his shoulder with her other hand. Was this a lesson? Was she supposed to defend herself? All she could think of was that moment at the Midnight Garden a week before. He’d used his hand to stroke and tease her until she’d come apart in his arms. Did he intend to do that again? Let her glimpse heaven?

“You must learn to protect yourself if you want to keep playing the spy. I can’t stay by your side every minute.” His gaze lowered to her mouth. “Meet me in the leisure room in half an hour. If you do not show, I will track you down, and we will train wherever it is I find you.”

He let go of her and walked away. Audrey took one step, her knees buckling together as she fought to regain control of herself. She finally understood why he wanted her in his bed. Being so close to him, even when he was attempting to show her the danger she faced, she’d been far too fixated on the pleasures he could give her instead.

I should look at this in a more positive light. Evangeline says that seduction is part of my job as a spy, but that means I will need to be able to control my feelings. Learning not to let Jonathan affect me will be a valuable lesson.

But that also meant she would indeed have to sleep in his bed—the sooner the better. Her heart gave an excited flutter.

“God’s teeth!” she cursed, leaving the succession house and heading back to the main house. There was no sign of Gillian or James. She hoped they were out somewhere enjoying the day, but for the moment their happiness would have to be entirely in their own hands. She returned to her chambers and called for Sarah, who helped her strip out of her dress and put on the clothes she had tailored secretly a few months ago.

The dark brown trousers she’d made were nice and loose enough that she could move freely. The white lawn shirt was surprisingly comfortable. She had her maid bind her breasts with a cloth rather than stay in her corset, and then she put on a rich burgundy waistcoat. Though she was dressing like a man, it didn’t mean she couldn’t still look splendid. She pulled back her hair to the nape of her neck and secured it with a matching ribbon. She then looked over her accomplishment in the full-length mirror, grinning. Next to her, the maid blushed.

“Heavens, miss!”

“It’s scandalous, yes, but I’m not going to have success at learning to fight by wearing a dress.”

The maid paled. “Learning to fight, miss?”

“Yes.” Audrey grinned. “I’m taking lessons.” She left room with the maid still gaping and headed for the leisure room. It was in the opposite wing of the house, and she prayed she would not run into any guests on the way there. She wasn’t ashamed of what she was doing, but what she was wearing was another matter. If Horatia got word of this, she would ask questions Audrey did not wish to answer. And given how soon she was to become a mother, Audrey did not want anything upsetting her sister.

Thankfully, she passed by no one, and when she reached the leisure room Jonathan was already inside, facing away from her. He removed his coat and dropped to a crouch to remove his boots. She stared at him, wanting to ask what he was doing. He straightened and then turned, still seemingly unaware of her.

She was about to announce her presence, eager to know what he thought about how she was dressed, when he suddenly spoke.

“Now that you’re here, let’s get started—” He turned to face her and then froze. He blinked once, his face reddening. “What…are you wearing?”

Audrey happily pranced into the room. That was the reaction she’d been hoping for.

“These are my fighting clothes. Quite splendid, don’t you think? I made them myself.” She turned and glanced at him over her shoulder so he could see the outfit from all sides.

“Splendid? What…where…” He stuttered and waved a hand to her chest. “Where are your breasts?”

Audrey’s face heated at the inappropriate remark, but she refused to let him render her speechless. “They are bound up tight so as not to interfere.”

“And will you be wearing this same outfit on your missions?”

“Well, no.”

Jonathan slapped his hand to his head and groaned.

“You have to learn to protect yourself with the natural hindrance of your clothes, your usual clothes.”

Audrey frowned. “At some point, yes, but in order to study effectively, I believe this way first is better. It is entirely possible that I might have to dress as a boy for a mission or to escape capture.”

He sighed. “Lord, you have an argument for everything, don’t you?” She knew he didn’t expect an answer, but she found prodding him strangely satisfying.

“Of course I do. Now, teach me. Where do we begin?” She moved into the center of the room, wondering if he would try to grab her again. She would have a better chance of escaping him without her pesky skirts getting in the way. She stared down at his stocking feet. “May I ask, why did you remove your shoes?”

“I do not wish to step on your tiny feet. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

Part of her wanted to say that he had already hurt her plenty, with his cold and distant nature. Teasing her only to back away, like a cat who’d lost interest in a new plaything. But she couldn’t help but throw his own argument back at him.

“And will my attackers be so considerate on my missions?”

Jonathan cocked his head. “You will hardly be able to learn if you are limping about with broken toes. Now, if we may finish with the verbal sparring, perhaps we can begin with something more physical. I think I should teach you a bit of boxing first, begin with how to move your feet and protect your face,” Jonathan said. “That way, our later lessons will make use of your new skills. No sense in showing you how to escape a hold unless you can defend yourself once you’re free.”

Audrey’s heart beat a little faster. This was really happening. “I think I’m following you.”

“So come closer and mimic my stance.” He pointed to a spot on the floor beside him.

He had one leg, his left, slightly forward and his right leg behind him. His hands were balled into fists close to his face. He looked fierce. She did the same, feeling awkward at having her legs braced so far apart. Skirts were so confining. One could scarcely run in them, let alone stand with one’s legs apart. Yet she couldn’t deny the power and stability she now felt. If this was the way men felt all the time, she was jealous. A pang of disappointment shot through her. She adored dresses, but this freedom was irresistible, and the thought of changing back into skirts afterward was not a welcome one.

“Not bad.” Jonathan left his position and was now standing on the other side, examining her body.

Without warning, he shoved her right shoulder. She nearly fell but kept her balance.

“What was that for?” she gasped.

Jonathan ignored the question. “Good. You’re still on balance. Balance is vital.” He continued to examine her, and she frowned at him. “Now, your hands.” He pried open her balled fists and freed her thumbs, then folded her fingers back into position. “Never tuck your thumbs inside your fingers.”

“Why not?”

“If you punch hard enough, your fingers will press back against your thumbs and break it. You won’t be putting up much of a fight with broken thumbs. I assure you, the pain is excruciating.”

His face twisted as he said this, and she wondered if he had personally experienced it. “Did you ever…?”

“Not from fighting, no. But when I was twelve, my thumb was caught in a drawer I shut with too much vigor. It had to be set, and I cried like a babe.”

“How ever did you manage that?”

“It is not something I am proud of. A moment of youthful anger and frustration. I simply wasn’t paying attention.”

“Oh, that’s so dreadful, I—” She started to step out of her position, but he smacked her bottom with his hand so hard that she squeaked.

“Stay in your position,” he said. She turned to him in anger, ready to lash out, and before she knew it he’d smacked her bottom again. “That is another lesson for you to learn. You may think that anger will give you strength in a fight, but in truth anger blinds, and that makes you vulnerable.”

Audrey winced. Her bottom stung. Skirts, as irritating as they were, at lease provided a much better cushion. Of course, she hadn’t thought that spanking would be part of her lessons. She glared at him, but rather than anger she saw humor in his green eyes.

“Now, when you have your fists up, you must keep your face protected. Use your left hand to block your face, and keep your right hand closer to you. Do you have a guess as to why?” To her surprise, his instructional tone was not condescending.

She thought about what she was trying to punch. “If it is closer to my body, I will be able to strike with more force?”

“Exactly.” Jonathan’s grin made her stomach flutter, and she tried to focus.

“The left hand guards, and your dominant hand, the right, is your weapon.”

“I see,” she said, nearly bouncing with excitement. She already felt more confident. “How do I punch?” she asked.

His low chuckle was both simple and delightful. “So bloodthirsty.” She was struck again by how playful he was acting, not cold and aloof.

This was the man I wanted to be with.

“We will discuss striking in a moment. But first I must teach you to block. Your first instinct will be to try to respond to my attack with one of your own. That leaves you open. Your goal should be to redirect the arm coming at you, not stopping it.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Jonathan faced her and raised his fists. “Slowly extend your hand as though to punch me.” She did as he commanded. When her fist got close to his face, he pushed his own arm up between her fist and his face and then pushed her hand away using his strong forearm. “That is how you block. If I simply just caught your fist, it would have knocked me backward, hurting me and still giving you have the upper hand. Does that make sense?”

“Yes!” She couldn’t contain her excitement at this revelation. If they had taught this to her instead of dancing lessons before she came out last year, it would have been a very different first ball experience.

Jonathan came around to stand in front of her and reached for her right hand. “Now, to strike you have several options.” He gripped her wrist and pulled it slowly to his nose.

“The nose is best. You can break it, and it will bleed. Never worry about blood—”

The thought of blood made her suddenly dizzy.

“Audrey, are you all right? You’ve gone pale.” He caught her by the hips, steadying her. She only used him for support as long she had to before she could stand again.

“I’m sorry. I’m a bit squeamish around blood.”

“And apparently just the thought of it as well.” Jonathan chuckled, though he didn’t seem to be laughing at her. “Let’s not use that word then. Striking the nose can also make the eyes water, which will effectively blind a man during a fight, so think on that instead. Now, arms up…” He let go of her. She raised her fists again, and once more he took her wrist, guiding her hand.

“After the nose, you may strike any number of places, but the most effective are the chin, throat, and ears.”

“Why those?” Audrey studied his face, for once not as a number of distractingly handsome features, but rather as objects to hit.

“They are vulnerable. Chins and jaws can break with enough force. The throat can stop them from breathing, and the ears…well, if you’ve never had your ears boxed, you can’t imagine the pain. If you ever have a chance to hit a man’s ear, go for that.”

Audrey could not believe she was learning such useful information for the first time in her life. Jonathan made her feel inexperienced, yes, but not inferior. He was taking these lessons seriously, and that made her feel… How did it make her feel?

Important? Relevant? Equal?

In her time as Lady Society, she’d exposed herself more and more to the social injustices of her world, from the casual to the criminal. And the more she did the more part of her had wanted to run away from it all. To hide at home and let her brother smother her with his overprotectiveness, just to keep those realities at bay. But she’d fought on. And now, with Jonathan, it felt as though that will to fight was neither irrelevant nor futile.

“You know, if I had these lessons in my first season, I might’ve been more effective at stopping wandering hands. I had to kick Lord Willoughby between the legs, which I don’t recommend. Skirts make kicking most difficult.”

Jonathan’s eyes glinted. “Viscount Willoughby?”

“Yes. He took me to a veranda at my first ball. I didn’t understand the risks of letting a gentleman escort me outside. Cedric was never good at giving us advice, putting the burden of our protection entirely on his own shoulders. Horatia and I were quite unprepared for our coming-outs.” Losing her parents as a child meant her life as a young lady had been more unconventional than most. Cedric and his friends had always been there for her, but older brothers were no substitute for mothers and fathers.

“And what happened? With Willoughby?”

“He tried to move me to a secluded part of the alcove, just off the veranda. I got pressed into a rather unpleasant and prickly hedge as he did his best to kiss me. The bounder managed to get one hand halfway up my skirts. Of course, then I was free to give him a good sharp kick to the—”

“Yes, I see,” Jonathan interrupted. Audrey giggled when she noticed he’d angled his body away from hers, as though to shield his groin from a surprise demonstration. “How about I show you an alternative to kicking a man in the bollocks should you want to vary your defenses up a bit?”

She quickly nodded, eager for more instruction.

“Very good. I will demonstrate a defensive action, and then you will have a chance to use it.” He waved for her to give him her hand. When she held it out, he gripped it with both of his and began to gently bend her palm back. She winced, but he stopped just before it would begin to truly hurt.

“This is one I taught myself. If you do this quickly, you can snap a man’s wrist, break it, or you can hold it on the edge of pain and threaten to break it. So for any wandering hands, that is a move to employ.”

“And now we can act out a situation?” she asked.

Jonathan nodded. “Come closer to the wall here and put you back against it. We will act as if it is a garden hedge.”

Audrey stood against the wall, then turned to face him. He slowly approached her, a predatory gleam in his eyes that set her heart into a mad rhythm of excitement.

“I’m going to pretend to be Willoughby, and you will use the move I showed you.”

She swallowed hard. “All right.” He was going to touch her intimately, or at least try to, and part of her didn’t want to stop him.

“Where was his other hand? The one not under your skirts?” Jonathan asked as he stood inches away, peering down at her.

She honestly couldn’t remember. “Behind my neck, I think.”

Jonathan’s hand cupped the back of her head. “Like this?” His gaze lingered on her lips, and her body burned at his touch. Why did they have to be training when they could be kissing?

“Yes…”

“I’m going to pretend you are wearing skirts, all right? Try to stop my hand.” He whispered this just before he leaned down and kissed her.

Audrey forgot everything about her lessons. Lord, she’d forgotten how good his lips felt and how giddy she felt trapped between him and a hard surface. She was under his power, and she liked it because he would only bring her pleasure. His hand touched her hip, moved to cup her bottom, and she gasped against his lips. Lord Willoughby hadn’t done that!

His hand moved down the back of her thigh, lifting her leg to wrap around his hips. He pressed tighter against her, their hips meeting as he pulled her off the ground, pinning her against the wall, continuing to kiss her. Then he slid his hand between their bodies, cupping her between her legs. Her knees buckled as waves of pleasure hit her hard. She clutched at his shoulders, trying to kiss him back. She felt frozen, frantic. Her yearning to feel that ecstasy at his hands was overpowering.

Jonathan rubbed his hand against her. She whimpered, trying to ride his palm. How did this man know how to set fire to her blood in such a way? His mouth broke apart from hers.

“You’re…not…trying,” he growled softly.

“Yes I am,” she insisted, arching her back to get closer to him.

“You’re trying to get me to bed you, not trying to fight me off. Are you not taking this seriously?” His frustrated tone was like a bucket of ice water over her. Fury rose up in her. She dropped her hands from his shoulders and snatched his wrist, jerking his hand back into the position he’d showed her. He leapt back from her, breaking free, and she dropped to her feet.

“Bloody hell!” He rubbed at his hand, scowling, but his anger soon cleared. “That… That was well done, if a bit delayed. But you’ll need to be able to keep your grip as well if you wish to subdue him. Once I’m free, you’re back where you started.”

Audrey wished she had punched him in the nose instead. This was exactly the thing she hated. His cool, dispassionate distance. Had he felt nothing between them?

“I think I’m done with my lessons for today,” she said. If there was one thing she hated, it was when a man made her want to cry.

“Very well. We shall have another lesson tomorrow.” He turned away and retrieved his boots, putting them back on. “And you will sleep in my chambers tonight. Or I will come to yours.”

“What? No. Jonathan, we mustn’t. Not here.”

“Once a week, that was the agreement.” He faced her, his gaze entirely too serious. “Your reactions today only prove my point. If you get distracted by a man’s kisses, he can take advantage of you as I did, and you don’t want that.”

She raised her arms over her chest. “You’re certainly right. I don’t want that.” Her temper was boiling now.

“Especially not with me,” he added, a wicked smile suddenly curving his lips.

“No, you…you are…” she sputtered.

“Yes? What am I?” he asked, stepping close again. All she could think of was him, his warmth, his kiss, how she’d adored the way his hands had wandered.

“You are infuriating.”

“And you like it when I rile you.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you do. I keep you on those little toes of yours, waiting for more kisses, even though you act like you despise me.”

It was his smug grin that pushed her too far. She hauled back her arm to slap him, but he caught her arm easily in mid-flight.

He leaned down a little, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Never slap when you can punch.”

She held very still, her right hand trapped as their eyes remained locked on each other. She balled her left fist just as he had taught her and punched him on the jaw.

He hissed in pain as he released her. Audrey stepped back to give him time to collect himself and to avoid any retaliation he might have in mind. His proud smile surprised her.

“Now that was an excellent display of what you learned today. Well done, little sprite, well done indeed.”

Audrey was so confused that she turned and ran from the room. She didn’t stop until she reached her chambers. She collapsed on her bed, trembling from head to foot, utterly confused. Like always, he had stunned her and left her completely unsure of anything.

Except that wasn’t true. He had been proud of her. A disinterested man wouldn’t show pride, would he? She held up her left hand. It was red and her fingers ached, but she suddenly had the desire to laugh. She’d learned how to strike back, had improvised as well, and he had been pleased.

She rolled onto her back on the bed and spread her arms wide, grinning. She was going to stay here awhile, enjoy a few more hours being in breeches before she had to confine herself to a dress once again for dinner. Luckily, she would not be missed in the meantime. A large house party had many benefits, the best one affording guests time to slip away to rest or conduct solitary activities.

As she lay there, she wondered what Gillian was up to. How had she and James faced being left alone? Audrey sincerely hoped they had done something enjoyable like riding or walking in the gardens.

Gillian learns to be wooed, and I learn to fight. She couldn’t stop giggling. What a day it had been.