Page 6 of The Secret of the Dashing Detective
“They are stray mongrels.”
“They are.”
“Why would the sister of a duke feed stray dogs?”
“Why would she not?” she countered, and Matthew had to hold back a smile at her spunk.
“Very well, then,” he said. “Feed your dogs. But you cannot come out here alone. We always have men here, guarding the house. Take one of them with you if I am not here.”
“I do not want to bother them for this.”
“It is our job,” he said, in some frustration.
“But I – very well,” she finally said, raising her hands in the air in defeat.
“I startled you when I came upon you, and you sat on the ground helplessly,” he said, knowing that he was going to draw out her anger, but perhaps that is what she needed. “What would you have done if I were here to harm you?”
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, and he knew that he had her there.
“Strike me,” he said, and her eyebrows lifted beneath her pristine white bonnet.
“Pardon me?”
“Strike me. Show me what you would do if I was here to take you again.”
“I—”
“You are helpless. Why are they targeting you, and not your sister, or the duke’s wife, your friend? There must be a reason.”
Her brows furrowed now as her lips pursed, and he knew he was drawing her out.
“Strike me,” he said again.
“No.”
“Do it.”
“I—”
“Or are you too weak?”
That seemed to convince her. Her hand drew back and her arm moved forward, in an obvious attempt to slap him across the face. He caught her wrist just before she made contact.
“What am I, a woman who has slighted you? A slap across the face will do nothing but insult me.”
“You do know that I am a lady, do you not?”
“I do, but I don’t particularly care when it comes to your safety,” he countered. “Now, make a fist.”
She reluctantly did as he said, her fingers curling around her thumb.
“Not like that,” he said, reaching out and rearranging her thumb in front of her knuckles. “Like this. Now, turn your fist as you direct it toward me so you hit me with the knuckles of your hand.”
He braced himself for the impact, as slight as it might be.
“Where?” she asked in some bewilderment.
“Here,” he said, pointing to a place just beneath his breastbone.
