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.“It’s a souvenir of sorts, from a hellhole outside Calcutta—a reminder of my glory days, as it were.I removed it from the body of the bandit who took my arm, so it seemed apropos to build it into the prosthesis rather than wearing it normally.”“I understand,” Kendall said.“I spent some time based out of Bombay.Lost a number of good friends, some to enemy soldiers, but more to wandering brigands.”“You were military?” Peterson looked up and down Kendall’s expensively clad form with one eyebrow raised.“Officer, I assume?”Kendall shook his head.“Diplomatic attaché, actually.As an only son, I was asked rather pointedly not to purchase a commission, but I did manage to get myself in the thick of things a time or two—which I’d rather my mother not know about.”“Don’t blame you there, old chap.” Peterson laughed, but there was no warmth in it.Some sort of challenge was brewing.“Best to keep some things from the ladies’ ears.Right, Saunders?”The old sailor chuckled and rubbed his bristly white mustache.“Aye, that it is, boys.Still, the fair sex deserves to know what goes on in the world.Did my share of fighting, too, you know.Pirates, mainly.Not so different from bandits on horseback or today’s airship marauders.”“Weren’t you at Trafalgar, Mr.Saunders?” Amy never tired of hearing his stories, even if they were the same ones over and over.“That wasn’t fighting pirates, now, was it?”“No, that was a proper battle—proper nightmare it was.Midshipman, I was then, if you can believe it—sixteen years old and just promoted from cabin boy.Fifty years ago, now.” With that, he was off, taking the conversation away from any possible confrontation between the two younger men.If only she could transfer her attention as easily.Honestly, all she could think about was Kendall’s kiss.If they didn’t solve the problem so he could return home soon, she was liable to find herself in a very great deal of trouble.Kendall paced restlessly in his small but pleasant room at Mrs.Bennett’s.He’d spent another hour after supper going through Amy’s equipment and her studio, and he’d found nothing new.Nothing but a vague, oily sense of unease on the back of his neck.He could tell there was something here, something malevolent, but nothing he’d encountered before.Quite honestly he longed for something simple, like Mr.Saunders’s pirates or a blood-sucking vampyre.Anything he could simply fight.Knowing Amy was asleep in the room right beneath him wasn’t helping ease his mind.Kissing her today had been a mistake of phenomenal proportions.He almost hadn’t stopped.Kendall had never been particularly impulsive.Even during his rebellious days in India—two short years between university and his formal Order apprenticeship—he’d planned his moves with excruciating detail.What was it about the delectable Miss Deland that made him act so out of character? Whatever it was, he’d be on guard now to make sure it wasn’t repeated.The last thing he needed was to find himself leg-shackled to a woman as curious and independent as Amy.She’d tear apart his carefully constructed world and be off taking photographs without bothering to pick up the pieces.The floorboards over his head creaked.Peterson was up there tinkering with his toys, from the sound of it.There was something about the man that bothered Kendall, though it may have simply been the sergeant’s determination to claim Amy as his own.Half a dozen times during luncheon, Peterson had made offhand remarks about ladies who shouldn’t be forced to labor for a living, and how the delicate sex was designed to keep home and hearth instead.Though he’d only met her today, Kendall could have told the man that was the last way to win Amy’s regard.She didn’t consider her photos a labor—they were an extension of her very soul.Giving it up—which he knew she was considering if he couldn’t solve her problem—would wound her deeply.He heard Peterson walking and then the creak of the attic stairs.Mrs.Bennett had mentioned that she left bread, cheese and sliced meats in the cold box in the kitchen, so her tenants could help themselves to a midnight snack if need be.This would be a good time, Kendall decided, to spend some time chatting with the sergeant.He’d taken off his coat and cravat, but for raiding the kitchen, shirtsleeves would be fine.He grabbed his cigar case and walked out into the hallway, just in time to see Peterson at the stair landing.“Heading down for a snack, are you? Mind if I tag along? Thought I’d grab a bite and step out back for a smoke.” He waved the leather traveling case.“Join me?”“Why not?” Peterson motioned for Kendall to join him.“I’m sure you’re used to just ringing for a meal whenever you’re hungry.”Kendall shrugged.Peterson appeared to have a grudge against Kendall’s wealth, but he wouldn’t be the first.Public school hadn’t been a dream for the grandson of a duke, especially when he’d been forbidden to use his Knightly abilities to defend himself.“Sometimes.Others, I fend for myself.Depends on where I find myself at the time.Right now, I live in rooms in London with one manservant.I don’t wake him up every time I want a drink or have to piss [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.“It’s a souvenir of sorts, from a hellhole outside Calcutta—a reminder of my glory days, as it were.I removed it from the body of the bandit who took my arm, so it seemed apropos to build it into the prosthesis rather than wearing it normally.”“I understand,” Kendall said.“I spent some time based out of Bombay.Lost a number of good friends, some to enemy soldiers, but more to wandering brigands.”“You were military?” Peterson looked up and down Kendall’s expensively clad form with one eyebrow raised.“Officer, I assume?”Kendall shook his head.“Diplomatic attaché, actually.As an only son, I was asked rather pointedly not to purchase a commission, but I did manage to get myself in the thick of things a time or two—which I’d rather my mother not know about.”“Don’t blame you there, old chap.” Peterson laughed, but there was no warmth in it.Some sort of challenge was brewing.“Best to keep some things from the ladies’ ears.Right, Saunders?”The old sailor chuckled and rubbed his bristly white mustache.“Aye, that it is, boys.Still, the fair sex deserves to know what goes on in the world.Did my share of fighting, too, you know.Pirates, mainly.Not so different from bandits on horseback or today’s airship marauders.”“Weren’t you at Trafalgar, Mr.Saunders?” Amy never tired of hearing his stories, even if they were the same ones over and over.“That wasn’t fighting pirates, now, was it?”“No, that was a proper battle—proper nightmare it was.Midshipman, I was then, if you can believe it—sixteen years old and just promoted from cabin boy.Fifty years ago, now.” With that, he was off, taking the conversation away from any possible confrontation between the two younger men.If only she could transfer her attention as easily.Honestly, all she could think about was Kendall’s kiss.If they didn’t solve the problem so he could return home soon, she was liable to find herself in a very great deal of trouble.Kendall paced restlessly in his small but pleasant room at Mrs.Bennett’s.He’d spent another hour after supper going through Amy’s equipment and her studio, and he’d found nothing new.Nothing but a vague, oily sense of unease on the back of his neck.He could tell there was something here, something malevolent, but nothing he’d encountered before.Quite honestly he longed for something simple, like Mr.Saunders’s pirates or a blood-sucking vampyre.Anything he could simply fight.Knowing Amy was asleep in the room right beneath him wasn’t helping ease his mind.Kissing her today had been a mistake of phenomenal proportions.He almost hadn’t stopped.Kendall had never been particularly impulsive.Even during his rebellious days in India—two short years between university and his formal Order apprenticeship—he’d planned his moves with excruciating detail.What was it about the delectable Miss Deland that made him act so out of character? Whatever it was, he’d be on guard now to make sure it wasn’t repeated.The last thing he needed was to find himself leg-shackled to a woman as curious and independent as Amy.She’d tear apart his carefully constructed world and be off taking photographs without bothering to pick up the pieces.The floorboards over his head creaked.Peterson was up there tinkering with his toys, from the sound of it.There was something about the man that bothered Kendall, though it may have simply been the sergeant’s determination to claim Amy as his own.Half a dozen times during luncheon, Peterson had made offhand remarks about ladies who shouldn’t be forced to labor for a living, and how the delicate sex was designed to keep home and hearth instead.Though he’d only met her today, Kendall could have told the man that was the last way to win Amy’s regard.She didn’t consider her photos a labor—they were an extension of her very soul.Giving it up—which he knew she was considering if he couldn’t solve her problem—would wound her deeply.He heard Peterson walking and then the creak of the attic stairs.Mrs.Bennett had mentioned that she left bread, cheese and sliced meats in the cold box in the kitchen, so her tenants could help themselves to a midnight snack if need be.This would be a good time, Kendall decided, to spend some time chatting with the sergeant.He’d taken off his coat and cravat, but for raiding the kitchen, shirtsleeves would be fine.He grabbed his cigar case and walked out into the hallway, just in time to see Peterson at the stair landing.“Heading down for a snack, are you? Mind if I tag along? Thought I’d grab a bite and step out back for a smoke.” He waved the leather traveling case.“Join me?”“Why not?” Peterson motioned for Kendall to join him.“I’m sure you’re used to just ringing for a meal whenever you’re hungry.”Kendall shrugged.Peterson appeared to have a grudge against Kendall’s wealth, but he wouldn’t be the first.Public school hadn’t been a dream for the grandson of a duke, especially when he’d been forbidden to use his Knightly abilities to defend himself.“Sometimes.Others, I fend for myself.Depends on where I find myself at the time.Right now, I live in rooms in London with one manservant.I don’t wake him up every time I want a drink or have to piss [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]