Page 65 of After the Abduction

His jaw tightened. “You don’t need protection. You have your family, remember?”

“All the same, I want to learn to shoot. And I want you to teach me.”

“No.”

“Why not? What can it hurt?”

His harsh laugh reverberated in the room. “You think I’m the man who kidnapped you, yet you want me to put a gun in your hand? Do I look that insane?”

“Oh, for goodness sake, I’m not going to shoot you.”

“I seem to recall something about your wanting me on my knees begging while you held a pistol to my head.”

Dear me, all her rash comments were coming back to haunt her. “I…um…might have exaggerated a little.”

He lifted one eyebrow.

“What good would shooting you do, anyway?” she persisted. “I can hardly prove you’re my kidnapper if you’re dead.” She tipped up her chin. “Besides, you’re only refusing to teach me because you’re afraid you might let something slip again.”

“I didn’t let anything slip before. I told you—”

“Yes, yes, you saw me in London. Nonsense.” She gritted her teeth. “If you’re not afraid of confessing something, then why not teach me?”

He shrugged. “Because I don’t want to.”

She stepped toward him and lowered her voice. “Coward.”

For a moment, the heat that flared in his eyes gave her hope. Then he banked it quickly and turned back to his work. “Your little taunts no longer work on me, Lady Juliet. I’m wise to the full range of your techniques. So you’d best trot right back to Charnwood Hall before I throw you out of my forge.”

Her heart sank. This wasn’t going well at all. How could she ever break down the walls between them if he wouldn’t even let her near?

She squared her shoulders. She wouldn’t let it end like this. She simply would not.

Scanning the room, she caught sight of exactly what she needed—a pistol lying on a table. Walking over to it, she picked it up. “I suppose I could teach myself. I think I know how this works. Isn’t this the cock? I know you pull it back, but as for loading—”

“Give me that!” He stalked over to snatch it from her hand. “This is not a toy.”

“I know. And it would be far more helpful if I didn’t have to blunder my way alone through learning to shoot, but I suppose I shall, since you won’t help me. Knowing you, there are all manner of pistols in that cottage over there.”

He eyed her warily. “You wouldn’t.”

“I’ll be no bother, I promise,” she said brightly. “I’ll find a pistol and begin target practice on my own. Now does the gunpowder go into something near the cock or am I supposed to dribble it down inside the barrel?”

He glared at her so ferociously that she half feared he’d shoot her. Then he laid the pistol on the table and snapped, “Go wait for me outside. You want to learn to shoot? Fine. I’ll teach you. Give me a moment to wash up and dress.”

“Thank you,” she said primly, biting the inside of her lip to keep from smiling as she turned for the door.

So he was wise to the full range of her techniques, was he? Well, the poor man hadn’t seen anything yet.

Chapter 14

Wisdom at times is found in folly.

Horace’s Odes, embroidered on a doll dress by Juliet Laverick for a servant’s child

With mixed feelings, Sebastian watched her stroll out into the clearing. The little minx had certainly played him well this time. He should have called her bluff, told her she was welcome to blow her head off with any of his pistols she preferred.

But he hadn’t. And why? Because, devil take her, after a week without her he’d snatch any foolish, reckless chance to be near her again. He’d suffered too many days of constant hard labor designed to pummel her out of his mind, all the while knowing she was somewhere in Charnwood cementing her hatred of him. He’d lain too many nights awake and aroused, remembering her winsome smile, her luscious mouth, her little gasps of pleasure.