Page 32 of Juliet's Touch

Alexander choked on his mouthful of brandy as his father chortled. Luckily, Juliet swallowed her sip before gigglinguncontrollably, otherwise it would have sprouted from her mouth as if she were a Gargoyle, splashing the unsuspecting Mr. Stone.

“You must excuse my wife,” Alexander said, casting a side-eyed glower at her. “I can only assume she is devising experiments that test the power behind the major punches.”

“Undoubtedly,” Juliet said.

“Actually”—Emily continued to tap her cheek—“I wasn’t thinking about that, but it would make a rather interesting experiment.”

Mr. Stone smiled, and Juliet’s heart thumped against her breastbone. She thought pugilists were missing most of their teeth. Surprisingly, this fighter had a mouth full of white teeth. He caught her watching him. His smile faltered, and he looked down at his dessert.

He seemed so nervous around her.Because you looked at his eye and winced within the first seconds of meeting him, you silly, goat.She should convince him she was unbothered by his injury. Changing the subject might do the trick.

“Mr. Stone, I have another question,” Juliet said, “Do female pugilists also punch each other until one of them can’t get up?”

“They do, Miss Juliet,” he said. “There are women who box at my gymnasium.”

Since the man was not loquacious, every statement he uttered seemed particularly meaningful, and Juliet’s heart and body melted every time he said her name in that deep baritone.

“How fascinating,” Emily said. “I would like to see that.”

“As should I,” Juliet said. The blood would turn her stomach, but watching strong women defy society would be exceedingly exciting.

“Mayhap I shall escort the ladies to some mills,” Alexander said.

Mr. Stone locked eyes with Juliet for the briefest of seconds before sliding his gaze to Alexander. He opened his mouth, looking as if he meant to say something. Instead, he picked up his glass and drank.

“Shall we retire to the drawing room for charades?” Emily asked. “Please say you will play, Mr. Stone.”

“Yes,” Juliet softly said. “Please say you will join us, Mr. Stone. I don’t want the night to end.”

This enjoyable evening simply couldn’t end because when it did, Juliet would be alone with her thoughts, and lately her thoughts made her act impulsively and got her into trouble.

“I told you, Stone, there is no getting around it. The Coldpepper sisters are single-minded and when they gang up on a man…” Alexander sighed. “Well, ’tis better to give in and enjoy their company.”

Mr. Stone looked into Juliet’s eyes. This time, she held his gaze, refusing to react to the broken blood vessel spreading angry red lines across his once white pupil.

“Charades sound enjoyable,” he said.

Juliet bent forward, then cupped and tilted her ear to hear Lord Chesterhill.

“Tree blowing in the wind,” he whispered.

Nodding, Juliet took her spot front and center and regarded her audience. Lord Chesterhill perched upon the largest wingback. His smile consumed his countenance, and his typically gray pallor appeared rather ruddy in the firelight. The married couple practically sat on top of each other since Juliet wasn’t currently sharing the settee with them. Mr. Stone relaxed on one of the wingbacks, one thigh crossed over his lap, thegolden glow of the firelight kissing his strong jaw. With his intense gaze focused on Juliet, he chewed on his bottom lip.

“Father, you better have given her something challenging this time,” Alexander said.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Stop fussing.”

Trying not to laugh at the competitive couple, Juliet held up five fingers.

“Five words,” Emily said.

Juliet nodded and held up one finger.

“First word,” Emily said.

Juliet nodded. Unfortunately, the too-small slippers she’d borrowed from Emily pinched her toes, so she slid out of them and planted her bare feet on the carpeting. Raising her arms over her head, she pressed her palms together.

“Tall! Mountain! Tree,” Emily called.