Page 34 of The Lyon's Pretty Pugilist

The truth was that Josie didn’t need to be a perfect lady in order to convince the duke to change fighters. She only had to show up at the ball, accompanied by Lady Davenport and her son, the most popular and sought-after viscount in theton,and then seek an audience with Griffendale.

It needled Nicolas’s pride that he now had the least important role in their foursome. To placate his feelings of inferiority, he often reminded himself that although his family had been disgraced, he was still accepted by theton.However, that was probably because everyone knew his best chums were Davenport and Griffendale.

As delightful as these past few days had been, Nicolas had not spent time alone with Josie. To his great disappointment, there were no more late-night snacks or sparring sessions. She was unusually quiet and rarely met his gaze. Perhaps she was still embarrassed about their almost kiss. Or maybe she thought aloofness made her more ladylike.

One thing was for certain—her changed demeanor made Nicolas think of a beautiful lioness in a gilded cage, and this image broke his heart.

Last night, when he couldn’t sleep, he visited the kitchen, hoping to have a cup of warm milk and talk to her. He desperately needed to know that her fiery spark had not been snuffed.

Alas, she had not been there. Which begged the question,Was she avoiding him?

He’d pouted as he’d sipped his milk. After returning to his room, he’d tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity. Adding to his worries, he’d received a letter from Bridget announcing she planned to visit London. Given his current predicament, and that his sister’s middle name should beTroublewith a capitalT,her visit was both exciting and concerning.

Currently, he sat across from Josie, slightly exhausted and trying not to watch as she took tiny bites of salad. By God, the woman fascinated him, but he had to pull his head out of his arse and attend toa pressing matter.

He cleared his throat and announced, “Agatha, my sister is taking a stagecoach to London. She is visiting one of her dear friends.”

Agatha’s eyes lit up. “I adore Bridget. I do hope she visits Greenpark House. She is most welcome here and I look forward to spending time with her.”

“She would be most delighted,” Nicolas said.

Jonathon grinned.

Nicolas shot him a don’t-you-bloody-touch-my-sister glare.

“Unfortunately, I must attend to my correspondences this afternoon,” Lady Davenport said. “I am planning an afternoon tea next week in honor of mycousinJosephine’s visit.” A mischievous glint twinkled in her eyes. “And I want to send the invitations out immediately. Of course, Bridget must attend as well.”

Josie’s fork hovered in front of her mouth, and her eyes widened.

“Do not fret, my dear.” Lady Davenport declared. “I dare say, you are ready to be presented to the ladies. I would not propose this gathering otherwise. It will provide you a chance to practice your conversational skills and etiquette before the ball.”

“Splendid plan, Mother,” Jonathon said.

“Gentlemen, you are not invited,” Agatha said. “You will need to make yourself scarce that day.”

“I am quite good at making myself scarce,” Jonathon said. “An afternoon at The Lyon’s Den. What do you say, old chum?”

Nicolas would rather attend a tea with ladies than face Bessie Dove-Lyon again. However, he said nothing.

Although Josie did not complain, her nose wrinkled. She put down her fork and chewed on her lip.

“I am also busy this afternoon,” Davenport declared. “I must see a man about a horse.”

Nicolas choked on his coffee. What were mother and son up to? Since everyone gawked at him, he composed himself and assuredthem he was fine.

Lady Davenport continued. “Nicolas and Josephine, it seems you shall have the afternoon to yourselves.”

Josie met Nicolas’s gaze before quickly looking away. “I believe I shall rest in my chamber. I am quite exhausted.”

Nicolas didn’t believe for a second that this ball of energy was tired. If he had anything to wager, he’d bet that since they were to be left alone, she planned to avoid him. Even though this revelation sucked bull bollocks, it truly was for the best. She did not require his attention or affection or anything he had to offer, which, unfortunately, was nil.

“I shall go into town today,” Nicolas said. “I need to visit Mendling’s Books while I am in London.” Although he enjoyed visiting the charming bookstore, this was a last-minute plan to distract him from his desire to spend time with a woman who wanted nothing to do with him.

“We shall all be quite busy today,” Lady Davenport said with a wry smile.

Was Nicolas losing his mind, or were the viscount and his mother sending each other conspiratorial looks?

“Enjoy yourselves,” Lady Davenport said. “I will see you all at seven for dinner.”