Page 50 of The Lyon's Pretty Pugilist

Lydia’s gaze slid to Bridget’s gloved grip. “Did Nicolas not receive my letter?”

Why was this damnable store so suffocating?

Bridget shrugged. “If you sent it to Blue Cliff Manor, probably not. He has been in London.”

“I sent it ages ago.” Lydia’s face lit up. “Is he currently here?”

Bridget’s eyes morphed into tiny slits. She dropped Josie’s hand, stepped forward, and jammed her finger into Lydia’s chest. “Stay away from my brother.”

Lydia’s silly sentries let out indignant huffs, Agatha gasped, and Diana’s cheeks turned the color of a ripe tomato. Even Josie, who thought etiquette, in general, was a massive pile of shite, knew that Bridget’s behavior in the elite modiste’s shop was scandalous. Josie had been given how-to-be-a-lady lessons after all. If only she could give thecowtwo black eyes.

Meeting Bridget’s glare, Lydia pulled her shoulders back. “He is myfiancé, Bridget, and he loves me.”

Good thing Josie was not a fainter, for if she were, she’d topple over and crack her head open. Knocked out for the first time ever—her stalwart opponent, an expensive marble floor.

Chapter Twenty

Nicolas asked Davenportto stop the carriage a few blocks from where they’d deposited the ladies. “If you wouldn’t mind,” Nicolas said. “I need to attend to personal business.”

Luckily, Jonathon didn’t seem disappointed in the change of plans, which was a good thing because Nicolas simply could not spend his afternoon lounging around drinking chocolate at White’s while carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” Davenport asked.

Nicolas did not want the viscount anywhere near him while he attended to his humiliating task.

“No thanks, mate. Enjoy your afternoon to yourself,” Nicolas said.

Davenport’s eyes twinkled like they did when he was up to some shenanigan or another. “That is probably for the best because I have things to attend to as well.” With his characteristic smart-arse grin, he tossed Nicolas his walking stick.

Why did Nicolas have the strangest sensation they were both on secret missions?

“I shall walk to Madame Auberte’s when I am finished, so why don’t we just meet there?” Nicolas said.

“Splendid,” Davenport declared with an absurd hat toss. Somehow, the hat landed on the viscount’s head. He waggled his eyebrows, then preened.

Nicolas chuckled. “Damn, lucky bloke.” He could not find it in him to begrudge his mate’s good fortune or hubris after experiencing his own bout of luck.

He’d actually kissed Josie. He’d also touched her intimately as he watched her chase her pleasure. What a picture she’d made with her head thrown back and her pupils filled with bliss. He’d hoped to sneak into her chambers and watch her orgasm again and again, but he’d fallen asleep soon after his head hit the pillow. Then he’d had the best sleep of his life. Bringing Josephine Martin to climax had cured his insomnia.

As bittersweet as today’s mission was, after last night, he had to do this for Josie. He had no idea what to do with his feelings for her. Again, he considered asking her to be his forever mistress. But if he did, would she run, never to be heard from again, or would she confess feelings for him? For now, he needed to purchase her gown. He’d deal with everything else later.

Nicolas waited until Davenport’s carriage turned the corner before strolling towardWagner and Son Jewelers.The last time he’d visited the shop, he had purchased a ring for Lydia. If only he’d asked her to return the band when she’d broken their engagement. Then, he could have traded it instead of his only precious possession to pay for Josie’s gown. It wasn’t that he gave a damn about how much his watch was worth. It simply reminded him of a happier time before his grandfather and father had succumbed to the familial madness and George’s tragic death.

“Nicolas,” his grandfather had said, “Since George is to inherit everything else, I want you to have this.” Thereupon, he’d presented Nicolas with the shiny object that had fascinated him since he was a toddler.

Thankfully, the store was quiet, and the elder Mr. Wagner stood behind the counter. All manner of sparkling jewelry filled the small space. Nicolas winced as he passed by the display case of antique pocket watches. How heartbreaking that this might soon house his precious ancestral gift.

Although Nicolas had not visited the jeweler often, the proprietor immediately recognized him.

“Good day, my lord, how was your wedding?” Mr. Wagner asked.

Surprisingly, Nicolas didn’t feel the least bit rattled by the question. He rested his walking stick against the wall and leaned on the counter. “I am afraid it did not happen.” It would never happen, not even if Lydia showed up on his doorstep and begged, which she would never do. Besides, soon, he would no longer have a door for her to show up at.

“I am sorry, sir,” Mr. Wagner said.

“I am here about something else.” Nicolas pulled his watch and the key from his waistcoat pocket. He placed them both on the counter. “Would you be interested in purchasing this? If not, I will take it to Henderson because he specializes in watches. Since you have admired it in the past, I thought I would ask you first.”

“Oh, yes,” Mr. Wagner said. “The late earl showed this to me years ago. I immediately recalled it the day you picked up the ring.”