Imogen laughed softly. “And you gave splendid chase, darling, even if you fell far behind in the end.”
Valentine sank into a chair across from them and awaited further explanation. Neither lady appeared ruffled by the experience so he concluded no one had been harmed. “What happened?”
Julia shrugged. “A thief snatched a lady’s reticule and tried to run off with it.”
“So what did you do with the oranges?”
“I threw them.” She toyed with her gloves, eyes downcast. “Stunned the man enough with the second that he dropped what he had taken.”
“Good grief.” He reeled at the danger she’d placed herself in by taking on the attacker. “Thank heavens your early morning exercises found a use.”
Julia gave him an odd look. “What do you know of that?”
“How could anyone miss the hours you practice? Tossing balls into hoops, lifting heavy objects, running jumps with your skirts up to your knees when you think no one can see you. You never stop moving.” Melanie had kept him appraised of her many indiscretions over the years, and he’d seen enough with his own eyes to glimpse her commitment to testing her limits. Still, attacking assailants was dangerous. “What would you have done if he’d turned around and tried to harm you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I won’t be bullied.”
“I wasn’t trying to harm you last night,” he replied calmly, stopping short of an apology. “But the next thief you meet might turn around and finish what he’d started. Do you know how to defend yourself?”
She licked her lips and cast a nervous glance at the Watsons. “I know enough to best you.”
“I would not count on it in every situation. Very few gentlemen would teach their sisters this but I have shown Melanie how to protect herself. She refused to believe that such instruction was required and so far that has been the case.” He gestured to her. “Stand up.”
“Why?”
He stood and took off his coat. “Because if you’re going to start attacking the criminal element, you might as well learn to fight like one. I will teach you.”
“You’re joking?”
“Not at all.” He looked around the room. It would have to be here and now. He may never get another chance. “I’d rather not hear that you’ve been hurt through folly.”
Imogen stood, hiding a smile as her husband began to move smaller furniture and trinkets out of the way. When they had a clear space, standing on opposite sides of the carpet, Valentine faced her. Julia appeared skeptical.
“I’m going to grab you.”
He lunged without further warning, caught her arm and turned her about so her arm was twisted against her back.
She yelped in surprise and pain. “Valentine!”
He glanced behind him to see if the way was clear. “Now you need to make me release you. One way is to push me back into a wall, hard, in the hopes I’ll let go. Do it.”
Julia pushed but he resisted with all his strength. He was impressed by her efforts, but not enough to let her win.
“I can’t shift you,” Julia protested.
Sir Peter folded his arms over his chest, his expression serious as he observed them. “Another way might be to smash your heel into his toes, kick back at his shins, or reach behind to gouge out his eyes.”
Valentine loosened his grip immediately before she could enact any of his suggestions and Julia stepped free, rubbing her wrist.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No.” She turned away and Valentine
grabbed her again, this time winding his arm about her chest. He held her tight against him and, being taller, lifted her feet clear of the floor. She struggled valiantly but her determination was no match for his strength. Even though her fingers dug under his to loosen his grip, he wouldn’t give up.
She reached for his face and as soon as her fingertips touched his skin, he jerked his head aside. “If Sir Peter hadn’t been there, you might have given chase,” he whispered into her ear. “What if the bounder had possessed a knife?”
Her breath caught.