Carver put his hand on the door and looked back at Elizabeth: Are you ready? She nodded firmly and he pushed the door open. Immediately, laughter rose in Elizabeth’s throat. Carver’s eyes widened momentarily before he pulled Elizabeth into the room and then kicked the door shut with his heel before the staff had a chance to spot their new countess.
“Rose,” said Carver, on a sigh that could be interpreted as relieved, amused, and exasperated all at once. “I should have known.”
Elizabeth had never assumed that her new sister-in-law’s transition from criminal life to the peerage would be easy, but she had never imagined she would find Rose standing in the drawing room, clothed in a lovely lilac morning dress, wicked smile, and holding a smoking pistol in her hand. Clearly, there was no intruder. Elizabeth looked to the other end of the room where Rose had been aiming her pistol. There stood a footman with his eyes shut tight, holding a playing card as far away from his body as his fingers could manage. Elizabeth had to press her hand to her mouth to hold back a laugh as he cracked open his eyes. A heavy dose of relief washed over his expression as he looked at the playing card and confirmed that all of his fingers were still attached. The playing card, however, had a hole blown straight through the center.
Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how one felt about crabby old ladies—there was also a big black hole in the portrait of Great Aunt Willowfred hanging on the wall behind him. Oh yes, Elizabeth was feeling much better in her brother’s house than she had under Mary’s roof.
Rose lowered her gun but held up a finger at Carver with her opposite hand. “Now, wait just a minute before you throttle me,” she said, taking a step away from his advance toward her.
“You have approximately ten steps before your chance to explain ends,” said Carver, sounding none too happy with his new bride.
“You remember Ben, don’t you?” Rose had told Elizabeth about Ben earlier that morning. He was somewhere around eighteen years old and she had known him from her days on the wrong side of the law. He had wanted a better life, but was too old to enter Rose and Carver’s orphanage. Instead, they had hired him on as a footman.
Elizabeth had a feeling that before too long the entire staff of Kensworth House would be composed entirely of rehabilitated thieves.
“I remember him,” said Carver, taking another step, not looking away from Rose.
Rose’s eyes were wide and alert. “Well, he had the audacity to suggest that the stories about my shooting abilities were all a hoax! That they were all just made up tales, because according to Ben—” she flashed the footman a menacing look, “—a woman could never actually live up to the reputation of my marksmanship.”
“So you decided to punish him with the fear of being shot dead by a woman in our drawing room?”
“No.” The innocent look Rose flashed Carver was laughable. He was stalking toward her—a wolf, fangs bared—and she was nothing but a baby lamb. “I simply wanted to give him the opportunity to witness firsthand ju
st how fine a shot a woman can be. And, also, that I can indeed shoot a playing card out of a man’s hand from twenty paces away.”
“You’re abusing your power,” he said, but Elizabeth could hear the amusement in his voice now.
Rose gave a mock gasp. “Never! Ben volunteered to hold the playing card.”
Carver looked back at Ben, who looked very much like a man who had not volunteered to hold a playing card. Carver looked back at Rose with a lifted brow and she gave a deep, resigned sigh.
“Very well,” she said with a sulky pout that would make Elizabeth’s three-year-old niece proud. “Please forgive me, Ben. I’ll never shoot a playing card out of your hand again.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Her eyes narrowed at him. “And this is the part where you apologize for your folly.”
“No,” said Carver, drawing the word out for emphasis. “This is the part where we remember that we are trying to keep the whole world from learning of your past and beg Ben to not tell any of the other staff what happened in here. If anyone asks, Rose was going to surprise me with the gift of a new pistol, but it misfired when she was looking it over.”
Rose scoffed. “I would never mishandle a pistol.”
Carver grinned before looking back at her. “I think you’ve proven that point already today, darling. Your ego can stand to be knocked down a bit. Do I have your word, Ben?”
“Yes, my lord,” said Ben before he bowed and rushed out of the room, looking like a dog with his tail between his legs. Poor pup.
Carver finally walked fully up to Rose and stopped just in front of her, holding out his hand. “A deal is a deal. You promised you’d hand it over if there were any more shooting shenanigans.” Any more? And Elizabeth thought she was the one with an over inflated love of excitement.
Rose rolled her eyes and placed her pistol in his palm. Then Carver smiled with such tenderness and intimacy that Elizabeth felt a little uncomfortable at being its witness, wrapping his arms around Rose and pulling her firmly up to his chest, pistol still in the hand draped behind Rose’s back. Elizabeth looked away, feeling that the moment had become a little too private for her to witness. She started to quietly back out of the room. With every retreating step, her mind pulled to Oliver. She wondered what it would feel like to be held by him the same way Carver held Rose.
That brief moment, when Elizabeth had been encircled in Oliver’s arms, had felt like coming home. It felt like hope and belonging and safety all wrapped up together. How much more wonderful would it feel to be really held by him, with real intention? Held because of a mutual love, too strong to keep them apart. No, Elizabeth needed to stop thinking about Oliver. It wasn’t going to happen. One day, she would be held as she dreamed, only it would be with someone else. Hopefully, a gentleman as equally wonderful as Oliver who would be worthy to receive her heart.
She did worry, though, that someone equally as wonderful did not exist.
“Elizabeth, wait!” Rose’s voice caught Elizabeth just before she escaped the room. Elizabeth paused and Rose tried to wriggle free of Carver. “I need to talk with your sister,” she said, looking up at him.
Carver just adjusted his arms more securely around Rose. “Go ahead, love. Don’t let me stop you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Alone. In fact, I think now would be the perfect time for you to revisit that boxing saloon you’ve been missing so much.”