That wasn’t a question Alice had been expected to be asked. “I do not know?” She turned to Giff. “Will we?”
“I would like to have them in the event we wish to use them.” He’d let her get her anger out of her system hitting him. If they wanted to actually spar, they could use the gloves.
“Well then,” Worthington said. “It appears as if all of our next two days have been planned.”
His wife gave him a wide-eyed look. “What will you be doing tomorrow, my dear?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I shall accompany you to the ascension. If you do not mind.”
The corner of her lips tilted up slightly. “Not at all. We will enjoy your company.”
The children smiled happily but remembered to finish their breakfast.
And that was how it was done. What could have been a disaster or at least an argument was calmly settled. He could imagine he and Alice having discussions like that. In fact, many of her expressions were much like her older sister’s.
As soon as the meal had ended, Worthington stood. “Alice, I will need your letter. You may write it while the parlor is being prepared.”
“Straightaway.” She rose.
Giff got to his feet. “I can help you if you’d like. Just to ensure it is worded in a way he must accept.”
Her forehead wrinkled, and Lady Worthington said, “I think that is a wonderful suggestion. The males of the species frequently do not understand when a lady is serious.”
Alice placed her hand on Giff’s arm. “We will use the morning room.”
Her ladyship motioned to one of the servants. Giff tucked Alice’s hand into the crook of his arm. “You can refer to him as a maggoty runagate, a rubbishing commoner who is from the gutter.” Behind them someone barked a laugh. “A curst rum touch who is not worthy to look upon you.”
She glanced up at him. Sorrow filled her lovely blue eyes. “Or I could just tell him he is a black-hearted scoundrel that I never want to set my eyes on again. And if he does not stay away from me, he will wish he was never born.”
“You can write that as well.” Giff wished he could hold her in his arms.
She raised her head. “We will think of something appropriate that he cannot mistake.”
“We shall.” She led him to the morning room. It was painted an almost yellow cream. The curtains had a light yellow background and were decorated with a profusion of colorful flowers. Painting, some excellent, some not, filled the walls. Two large sofas stood across from each other with a long table between them. Other chairs, some wooden, some covered in chintz were arranged in disparate seating areas. Small tables of various woods and colors stood next to the chairs and at the end of the sofas. He’d never been in such a comfortable room. At Cleveland House, even the morning room was more formally arranged. Only his mother’s parlor could be called casual. Long windows and a set of French windows covered one wall, which led to the garden. The other outside wall was also lined with windows. Light flowed into the parlor. A small cherry desk and a large dark ash rectangular table were also in the room. He could imagine games being played on the larger table.
Alice took a piece of foolscap, the standish, and a pen, and set it on the large table, then lowered herself into a chair.
Giff sat next to her. “The first thing to do is decide how to address him.”
Her lips formed a thin line. “I had thought to start by writing Lord Blackguard.”
“That would make you feel better, but it would also allow him to believe you were merely angry and could forgive him.”
“Harrumph.” She pulled a face.
Giff suppressed his grin. “Allow me to suggest merely writing Lord Normanby.”
“Very well.” She wrote the name. “Now what.”
“You need to let him know that you are aware of his plans.” Giff caught her gaze with his. “Remember, as far as anyone realizes, you did not hear him.”
She took a breath and let it out. “True. We were supposed to have been on the terrace the whole time. Matt would have told me.”
“Yes.” Giff watched the emotions cross her mien as she thought. Anger combined with calculation. He was very glad he was not on the receiving end of that letter.
“I will say my guardian has informed me that you intended to wed me merely for my dowry.”
“He will of course deny it.”
“He would.” She was quiet for a minute or so. “I will say that I know for a fact he is betrothed to another women. I am appalled he would court me when he is promised to another. Do not approach me again. I will have nothing to do with a person who would betray the trust of another no matter her status.”
That was actually a very good way to put it. And it was something he couldn’t explain away. “I think that might do it.”
Alice stared at the paper on the table. “I would really like to send it on foolscap.”
That might indicate to the cur how low she thought him. However, it would not set the tone that she was too good for him. “But you know you must send it on pressed paper.”
“I know.” She took a piece of pressed paper from a small stack.
“As soon as you’re finished, we can get to fisticuffs.” Giff hoped that would make her feel better. She was so brave. Still, at some point she would have to admit her pain. Hopefully, she would be able to do it while hitting him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Alice led Giff to a back parlor where the servants were just finishing rolling up the carpet and pushing furniture against the wall. Her footman put his bag with the boxing gloves on a chair. A similar bag was on a small sofa.
How to begin? He raked a hand through his hair. “Right, then. Never having boxed with you before or seen you box, I would like to get an idea of your technique and strength.”
Her finely arched brows were drawn together, but she nodded. “I understand. How do you want to start?”
