Page 28 of The Beauty and the Boxer
“Yes, thank you,” Meredith said, the faintedhint of a smile on her lips. Jack felt instantly pleased withhimself as she turned back to her sister. “Now go and find Danielthe best possible horse.”
Sarah nodded back, her smile becoming almostdazzling. Simon climbed in after her, closing the door as they setoff down the street. Meredith gave Jack an apologetic grin.
“I’m sorry your plans changed.”
“It’s no matter,” he said, peering up anddown the road. “I didn’t come with a carriage though. I rodeDrachma here.”
“I’m not opposed to walking,” she said. “Thedress shop is only a few blocks from here.”
“And afterwards? I suppose I could hire ahackney.”
“Oh, no. I’d much prefer to walk.”
He gave her a perplexed expression.
“You’d walk all the way back home?” heasked, a little surprised.
“Of course. I used to walk miles and mileswhen I lived at Hardwick House,” she said, referring to theancestorial home of Sarah’s husband. “To be honest, I’ve quietmissed walking.”
“Hm.” A stable hand brought around Drachmaand Jack took the rein. He held out his other arm for her. “Verywell. Shall we?”
Meredith nodded and slipped her hand intothe crook of his arm as they began their journey to the dress shop.Jack hadn’t really believed that she would take his arm andcouldn’t remember if he had ever actually escorted a woman on hisarm. It seemed a rather awkward practice. He never knew a lady toneed help walking, but then he rarely understood societaltraditions. Besides, a part of him rather liked the idea of beingseen with her.
As they walked, Jack began to notice peopleopenly staring at them as they made their way down the street.Meredith didn’t seem to mind, or at the very least she wasn’tdisplaying any telling signs that she was aware of the gawking, butJack felt a creeping concern crawl up his neck. Often, he would begawked at—his scars had guaranteed it—and he had become accustomedto it, but there was an underlying need to protect Meredith fromthe string of horrified glances and hand covered whispers thatinevitably approached them as they walked.
Jack’s hand came up and covered hers.Gently, he picked it up, fighting some ancient, possessive natureto hold tight and never let go. Meredith frowned as he removed itfrom his arm.
“Perhaps it would be best if you, well,” hestarted, unsure. He hated the shame that bubbled within his chestand cleared his throat, making his voice cold. “You can walk onyour bloody own, can’t you?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“Then do it.”
Meredith nodded as they continued theirwalk. At the end of the street, they made a right and found thedress shop on the corner.
Jack stated that he would wait outside as hetried to sound aloof. Meredith nodded and entered seeminglyconfused at his shortness with her.
What the hell was wrong with him? When hadhe ever cared what people thought of him? Never. Yet the thoughtthat someone, anyone, even a stranger would look at Meredith with asingle ounce of disdain made his blood boil. He wondered if hisnewfound friendship with her was the wisest choice. Selfishly, hewanted to be near her all the time. He wanted to touch her andprotect her and kiss every inch of her…
No.No. They were friends. Friendsfrom two different worlds and nothing more. They couldn’t be. Ofcourse, that hadn’t stopped him from dreaming about her. Visions ofMeredith with her hair down, wrapped in silk sheets, her heatedeyes staring up at him, through him, had haunted his nights as oflate.
Just the memories of his dreams seemed tocause him a tremendous amount of discomfort as he shifted. Hepromised himself that he would visit LaMont’s brothel by the end ofthe week. Really, it was damn near indecent to walk around sotightly wound. He was liable to snap at any moment.
“Jack?”
“What?” he barked, turning around to see asurprised Meredith.
“I’ve finished,” she said warily.
She wasn’t carrying anything.
“Where are your dresses?”
She tilted her head, trying to read hisstrange behavior.
“They’re being altered.”
“Altered? You mean you aren’t receiving anynew gowns?”
