Lord Day and Lady Night

07. Knight in Shining Armor

Lord Patrick's throat felt dry as sandpaper from all the talking. Reaching out for the tea pot, he poured himself a cup and drank it in long, deep, gulps. From the other side of the table, his erstwhile kidnapper stared at him incredulously.

"Three? In the whole of Britain?"

He sent the confounded female a cool look. "Out of the entire story, that is the part you chose to focus on?"

"Well, dat's about da only part I can believe!" Narrowing her eyes, she leaned forward, as if she were studying a bug under a microscope. "Do ye honestly expect me ta believe ye're for real?"

Lord Patrick Day raised an eyebrow. "What, pray, do you mean?"

"What I mean? What I mean? I'll tell ye what the 'ell I mean!" The woman waved her hand at him as if she were gesturing at a particularly disagreeable pile of manure. "Ye honestly expect me ta believe ye're some kind of white knight? I caught ye red-'anded with a kidnap victim! Ye even admitted buying 'er!"

"As I said, only with the noblest of intentions. I would never buy a child sex slave for nefarious reasons."

Sputtering noises came from the young woman. For some reason, she seemed rather agitated. Lord Patrick cocked his head. "Are you all right, Miss?"

"No! No, I'm bloody not all right! Ye can actually say dat with a straight face? Ye think ye can just go around buying people?"

Lord Patrick considered for a moment—then nodded. "Evidently, yes."

"Ye...ye sick, despicable pervert!"

"You do realize that she is perfectly all right and I have no intention of detaining her, do you? My intentions were—"

"Ye can take your intentions and stuff 'em up yer arrogant aristocratic arse!"

"I'm afraid I will have to decline."

"Oh, of course! Ye can't stuff it up yer arse!" Her eyes glittered dangerously. "Because there's already a stick in there!"

"Miss..." Lord Patrick's eyes narrowed. He was not particularly adept at conversing with ladies, and interpreting their subtle hints and obscure implications. However, this time, he felt fairly confident in coming to a conclusion. "Why do I get the impression that you do not like me?"

"Per'aps because I whacked ye over da 'ead earlier." She hefted her parasol. "Would ye like a repeat ta refresh yer memory?"

Lord Patrick's eyelid twitched, and the back of his head pulsed painfully. "No, thank you."

She fixed her eyes on him for a long, long moment, scrutinizing him closely. "Ye really expect me ta swallow that story of yers? Expect me ta believe that ye're a good, kind, upstanding child-kidnapper with da best of intentions? Ye're supposed to be a pervert! A spoiled, snivellin' noble, usin' innocent victims for 'is own twisted pleasure!"

He raised an eyebrow in a manner only aristocrats with five hundred years of noble ancestry were capable of. "Sorry to disappoint."

"You bloody well should be! In case ye didn't notice, I've bin insultin', punchin' and threatenin' ta kill ye since I met ye—"

"Oh, I noticed."

"—and now, I'm just supposed to accept dat ye're some sort of 'ero in a very, very, very good disguise?"

He cocked his head at her. "I do not particularly care what you believe."

To judge by the look on the woman's face, that had not been the best thing to say.