o do.”
He feigned shock. “Never say so!”
“Do not laugh at me or I’ll box your ears,” she said trying to hold back a smile.
He smirked, leaned his shoulder against the wall beside the window, and crossed his arms. “I’m sure you would try, but I doubt you could reach them.”
“I could stand on a chair.”
“And just how would you get me to stay still for my punishment?” Carver had a unique way of smiling with his eyes before his mouth.
“I’ll aim my pistol at you,” she smiled with one side of her mouth giving him a look that she knew was flirtatious. Why was she doing that?
“Ah…” he smiled fully. “That’s a much better threat. The fact that you didn’t think of it first leads me to believe you might not be such a good criminal after all.”
Rose leaned her shoulder against the wall on the opposite side of the window. She wondered why it was so easy to banter with Carver. Easy to smile with Carver. In some odd way, it felt as if they had known each other for much longer than three days. “So you think I should have threatened a bullet from the beginning?”
He shrugged. “I would have. But you do as you wish, my dear.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Do you even own a pistol, my lord?” She exaggerated his title because they felt too close now for real formality.
He gave a disbelieving smile. “Do I even…of course I do, you insulting woman! I don’t, however, carry it strapped to my leg like you do.”
“Of course not,” she said. “I don’t either, when I’m wearing breeches.”
He looked just as shocked and bewildered as she hoped he would. “When you’re—? Do you mean to tell me that you really do wear breeches?”
“Only when I’m pretending to be a stable boy.”
His brows flew up. “Goodness, woman. Do I even want to know why you pretend to be a stable boy?”
She blinked innocently at him. “To steal horses. Why else?”
“Oh, yes of course. How stupid of me.” He paused and looked at her from the corner of his sparkling grey eyes. A silence fell over the room but something inside Rose feared that the awkwardness of it would end their conversation. And for a strange reason, she didn’t want that. She wanted to keep talking to Carver, and, against her better judgement, learn all she could about him.
“Are you a good shot?” she asked.
He smiled, more with his mouth than his eyes this time. “I could go get my dueling pistols and we could find out.”
“Are you calling me out?”
“Unfortunately, my gentlemanly honor forbids me from challenging a woman,” he said. “But I’d be willing to have a competition. Perhaps even a friendly wager?” His eyes glinted.
A wager? The idea made her both excited and nervous. Or maybe it was the way his eyes were shining with a secret. “How much?”
He shook his head. “No money.”
“What, then?” her heart sped up just asking the question.
He held a soft smile for a long moment. “If I win, you tell me your name.”
My name! Why did he seem to want to learn her name so badly? She couldn’t imagine why it would matter to him. Unless…No, she banished that thought.
To agree would be a steep wager indeed. But she knew something that Carver did not. She was a devilishly good shot and rarely missed her mark.
A boost of confidence made her feel daring. “And if I win, I get to ride Thunder for the remainder of the stay, and you will ride the slug.”
He smiled playfully. “Oh no, you pretty rogue. If you win, I will most certainly send you packing. My pride will be far too bruised to let you stay any longer.”