Page 37 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“It is a delicate matter to introduce yourself as a long lost relation.”
“’At’s why you’re helping me.”
He arched a brow, and she cursed under her breath.
“That’s why you are helping me.” Then she lifted her chin. “Your tale now. I want it all.”
Like she’d shared it all? Not bloody likely. But he would give her enough to chew on. “I was scrawny as a boy, and so I was picked on at school.”
She frowned, but she didn’t interrupt. That was smart because he had no intention of letting her quiz him on his past.
“I learned how to fight to defend myself. And then when I needed money, I hit on the idea of getting paid to defend the other boys. The little ones who were like me.”
“Was Lord Linsel one you defended?”
He nodded, and a fond smile curved his lips. “I charged him double on account of him being such an ass.”
She nodded. “That’s how you got into guarding as a boy. But as a man, there are loads of other ways. Did you think of anything else?”
He wanted to correct her language, but she’d spoken correctly, so he pursed his lips and shrugged. “I tried my hand at other things.” Mostly gambling and wenching, but neither paid his bills. “In the end, an acquaintance of mine had trouble outside of school. I helped. For pay.”
“Did he deserve to be beaten?”
He arched his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, even I can see that Lord Linsel had done wrong, but you protected him anyway. You were getting paid, so no thought beyond that.”
Notno thought. Just not enough to dissuade him from the job.
“So what about this acquaintance?” she pressed. “Did he deserve his trouble?”
“Shedid not.” And that was all he would say on the matter. He picked up a brush. He wasn’t well versed in painting, but how hard could it be? Grab the brush. Dip it in the paint. Slap the stuff on the carriage. Before long, he had settled into the rhythm and rather enjoyed it.
“You defended a woman, then.”
“Yes.” He answered before he could shoot her a glare. The subject was closed.
“From someone bigger and stronger than ’er.Her.”
It wasn’t a question so he didn’t bother answering.
“That’s like an Arthur knight.”
“A what?”
“A knight of the Round Table. King Arthur—”
“I know,” he interrupted.
She sniffed. “You didn’t think I knew. Well, I do. I learned it young. My tutor read it to me in French to teach me the language.”
“You know French?” He couldn’t be more surprised.
She chewed her lower lip. “Not much. I can’t remember it ’cause I don’t have anyone to practice with.”
“Because you don’t.”
She nodded and echoed him. “Because.” Then she brightened. “Do you speak—”
