Page 69 of Snapdragons
But from the filly’s pen, the stablehand chimed in. “I saw him aiming for the outbuilding he and the other gentlemen have been making use of, miss.”
The Gents would be there. “Thank you.”
She hurried in the direction of the outbuilding. She held fast to Liam’s letter, unable to convince herself to feel relief at having received word from him. The possibility that he had written to denounce her again felt far too heavy.
But one thing she was certain of: she would feel better if Niles were with her while she read it.
He’d held her hand so tenderly. It had taken all her self-control not to simply curl into him and plead with him to hold her as he had when Liam had abandoned her. There had been such comfort in his embrace. She’d felt safe and cared about, and her heart had all but burst out of her chest. But the drawing room, surrounded by all the other Pledwick Manor guests, was not the place for throwing herself into the arms of a gentleman who wasn’t related to her. An outbuilding in full view of the Gents wasn’t either. But they couldn’t object to Niles being at her side while she read a letter.
As she approached her destination, she heard the oddest sound: a repetitive thud, almost like the sound of carpets being beaten. Why such a thing would be undertaken inside a building, she couldn’t say. The Gents indulged in some odd larks, to be sure, but this didn’t seem like one of them.
Afraid that whatever it was would stop if they were alerted to her arrival, Penelope walked slowly and quietly to the door of the outbuilding, deeply curious. She peeked inside, then froze on the spot.
Niles was alone, standing in front of an enormous burlap bag hanging from the ceiling, punching it. That was not the most shocking bit though. He was stripped to the waist, revealing more rippling, glistening muscles than she even knew existed.
Good gracious.
Upon first glance, under ordinary circumstances, most everyone would describe Niles as small, and not merely becausehe was the shortest of his friends. He gave the impression of slightness. But heavens, seeing him shirtless, his muscles flexing as he delivered one crushing punch after another, she knew he was anything but flimsy.
Good gracious.
As she stood there, too astonished to speak or move or make sense of anything, Niles happened to look over at the door.
“Penelope.” His eyes pulled as wide as hers must have been. He began frantically looking about, likely searching for his shirt.
The blush of embarrassment that inched up his neck pulled her out of her stupor. She turned away a little, setting her eyes on the doorframe. “I hadn’t realized this outbuilding had been converted into a boxing salon, otherwise I would have...” What would she have done? “Knocked, I guess. Except the door was open.”
Over the sound of his frantic footsteps, Niles said, “I would have kept the door closed, but it had grown overly warm in here.”
“My brother once told me he enjoyed a bit of boxing while at school.” Penelope kept her eyes diverted as she spoke. “Pugilism is, apparently, not unpopular amongst gentlemen, young and old. Not that I’m saying you are old; you just aren’t a schoolboy any longer, clearly. I don’t mean ‘clearly’ to indicate that I was studying you and came to that conclusion. I—I simply—I need to stop talking.” Merciful heavens, she was flustered.
“It is certainly a popular sport, thoughactualbouts fall outside the bounds of acceptable gentlemanly pursuits.” Niles took an audible breath. “I suspect I would, nevertheless, have an impromptu bout with your brother on my hands if he knew I’d appeared in front of you bare-chested.” His voice grew louder as he drew nearer. “I am sorry about that.”
He wouldn’t have moved to stand by her were he still without his shirtsleeves, so she hazarded a glance. He was dressed oncemore, though only in his pantaloons and untucked shirt. It was entirety possible he didn’t have anything else there, having had no reason to expect company.
“You are not the one needing to apologize,” she insisted. “’Twas I who intruded on your privacy.”
“Then, let us agree that our moment of awkwardness was neither of our faults and we both are to be considered utterly blameless.”
“I think that is a brilliant strategy.” Her panic began ebbing. She took a breath, the first full one she’d drawn since stepping inside. “How often do you box?” Curiosity was quickly replacing her befuddlement. “A lot of effort was put into transforming this space, and at least at the moment, you are the only one taking advantage of it.”
“Quite often, when I am able. I have a similar space to this at my parents’ estate in Cornwall, and I patronize an establishment in London.” He wiped at a trickle of sweat making its way down his chin. Doing so drew attention to the strips of fabric wrapped around his knuckles.
A realization landed on her mind. “This is how you hurt your hand yesterday. The cut on your knuckle.”
He nodded. “Probably. I don’t remember it happening specifically, but I was in here most of the afternoon.”
He really did enjoy the exercise, then. “You told me when we first met that you enjoyed athletic endeavors. I could tell you meant it in the context of horse riding, and you clearly enjoyed the game of ground billiards. I am beginning to suspect you are more of a sportsman than most people would guess.”
Niles snatched up a rag and wiped the perspiration from his brow and neck. “I am small and tend to be quiet. People make a lot of assumptions based on that.”
“Believe me, I understand.”
“You are tiny; I won’t argue with you on that score. But—”He seemed to suddenly think better of the remainder of his comment.
“You were about to insist that I am not, in fact, quiet.”
His lingering blush turned furiously red once more.
