Minerva's Match Page 4

  “The others? Good God, there are more?”

  “Of course. It wouldn’t do to be disarmed in a fight.”

  “A fight? Dear Lord, you are an Amazon.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. Many women carry pistols in their reticules, and I hate reticules. Besides, this way is much quieter.”

  He now stood with his eyes closed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “How many?”

  “Knives? Oh, when I’m traveling like this, I carry seven.”

  “Seven? Knives! On your person?” He looked her up and down, no doubt trying to see where they were hidden. He wouldn’t find them like that. “Where?”

  Was it silly of her to want him to be impressed that she could defend herself? Probably. But the fact that he said the words with such complete incredulity forced her hand. She began with the two in her sleeves, pulling them out and laying them on the bed next to her. Next she removed the two that were folded in her pockets. His eyes began to bulge. She ran her hands along the seams of her traveling skirt and retrieved one from each of the pockets she’d secretly sewn into the garment.

  He’d gone a little green and swallowed hard now. “That’s only six. You said you had seven.”

  Now she was just angry, and it was a test of her restraint not to hurl a knife or two at him. Instead, she went for a more subtle poke. Minerva slowly raised her skirt. The man looked like he’d caught fire. When the hem reached the top of her ankle-length kid boot, she bent and extracted the short double-bladed knife she kept tucked in the leather holder there, laying it on the quilt with the others.

  “I… But… You…” He was stammering now. Good!

  “Oh, I forgot about the one strapped to my thigh. I keep it as a last resort. Would you like me to show you that one too?” If she did, he would no doubt have a fit of apoplexy.

  “Bloody hell,” he cursed.

  She picked up the knives one by one and slid them back into their hiding places.

  “Why?” he finally spit out.

  “A woman can’t be too careful. Especially if she is going to do things others think she shouldn’t. Like collaborate with eminent researchers and travel to other countries, for instance. And I like the feel of the steel in my hand.” He’d stopped stammering and just blinked at her. She glanced at the small packages he’d dropped on the table. “Were you able to get some bread and cheese?”

  “Yes, but I couldn’t get a damned kni… Agh!”

  She smiled graciously at him. “If you promise not to cut yourself, I’ll let you use one of mine.” She couldn’t help the wink she gave him. The situation was just too delightful. He sat with a hard thump in the chair.

  Chapter Six

  Despite the knives, they had a relatively uneventful dinner. James had eaten so many lonely dinners by himself, he’d forgotten what good company could feel like. Minerva surprised him with the breadth and depth of her knowledge of their field. All in all, the girl was good company. Bread, cheese, and a little ale made a delightfully good dinner. He was shocked at how much he’d enjoyed himself. At King’s College, the other professors kept their distance from him. Their behavior might have been odd at first, but now with his double life, it was something he encouraged. With this girl, he felt no need to be aloof. She already knew most of his secrets.

  “Here, let me clean this up.” She took one of her knives from him and carefully wiped it off with the cloth the bread had been wrapped in, tucking it back in its hiding place in her skirt. He shook his head. Truly, she had to be the most singular girl he’d ever met. As a rule, he avoided social functions for a host of reasons, but surely this wasn’t what other girls were like now?

  Even at his cousin’s house party where they’d met, her friends hadn’t been this unusual, and there were several girls there who were more genteel and… He’d been bored to tears when he’d been trapped in conversation with them. Her friends seemed right enough, except for the way they banded together in their little Heiresses club. How his cousin saw fit to marry into that coven, he’d never understand, but Simeon did seem happier than he ever had before.

  “What has your brow creased, James? Have you thought of a problem with the work?”

  He looked at her a long moment. “No, nothing like that. Just thinking about my cousin. He seems happier now, since he married, I mean. Your friend seems to have had a good influence on him.”

  “Perhaps she has. I wouldn’t know. I didn’t know him much before the house party where we met.” Minerva’s cheeks turned a fetching shade of pink. He wouldn’t have thought a girl who carried knives and was as practical as she could still blush. Her blush faded as she yawned. It was getting late, and it had been a long day. There was still the matter of the bed to discuss.

  “Yes, well. We should probably work out sleeping arrangements.” There was that blush again. “It would be easier if I just took the chair.” His body rebelled at the thought of sleeping in the single hard chair in the room, but it was that or the floor.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. If you’re going to present our work tomorrow, you need to get a good night’s sleep. It wouldn’t do to have the noted researcher J.A. Lathrop yawning in front of the crush.” She was teasing him, judging from her grin. Under normal circumstances, he’d have taken a colleague to task for that. In this case, he wanted to tease her back.

  “I don’t know how well I would sleep next to someone armed to the teeth.” He grinned back at her.

  “I don’t sleep in all of this.” She waved her hands in front of her. “I sleep in my… Oh, I don’t have my night shift or robe. Everything was in my bag.”

  “Yes, as I said, best if I sleep in the chair.”

  “No, no. That is just being silly. We are colleagues. Surely, we can lie beside each other without any drama.”

  “Drama or not, it isn’t proper.”

  “Oh poo! I don’t give a fig for propriety.”

  He barked a laugh. “Perhaps I do.”

  “You have my sincere promise that I will not trap you into marriage, my lord. I have no desire for that myself, so you have no worries from me.”

  “Yes, you have said that before. It still doesn’t make any sense to me. But I am tired, and the trip here was long. We should to bed. Why don’t we do this—you can sleep in your shift under all of the covers, including the sheet. I’ll sleep on top of everything except for the coverlet.”

  “You won’t be too cold?”

  He laughed again. “No. I’ve gotten quite used to fending off the cold, being a lowly academic.”

  Her mouth fell open in a gasp. “My father is an academic, and we’ve never gone without heat.”

  “Ah, but does he teach something so esoteric as agronomy?”

  “Of course not. He teaches something truly useless. Classics. As if I would need to know more about ancient Rome and Greece.”

  “Well, someone might. I went into this field because I needed to find a way to make my land as profitable as it could be.”

  “You see, that makes sense and is very practical.”

  “Yes, I’m nothing if not practical. I’ll turn around now, and you get yourself situated.” And he did just that, listening to her mutterings as she tried to extricate herself from her clothing. There were too many times he wanted to laugh out loud, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate that. Finally, he heard her pull back the covers and climb into the bed.

  “You can turn around now.” She had raised the covers up to her chin. Her hair was now loosely braided over one shoulder. She very much looked the part of an Amazon princess at her leisure. It made him wonder if she’d ever had a painting done of herself. A silly thought. Academics didn’t have that kind of blunt, not even esteemed classics professors. “Well, aren’t you going to get into bed?” she asked.

  “Maybe the chair?”

  “Oh for goodness’ sake! I will not have you jeopardize my portion of the prize just because you refuse to sleep.”

  “Fine then. Turn and face the wall, unless you’d
like to watch me put on my dressing gown?” He gave her a challenging look. She squeaked and turned to the wall in an instant.

  “Could you put my things on the chair? I’ll need them tomorrow when I go to the conference.”

  Bloody hell. She couldn’t go to the conference. He moved her things, clanking knives and all. Which made him wonder if she still had the knife strapped to her thigh. He felt his cock twitch in an odd sort of anticipation. Stupid of him, and he resented his body’s response to the idea. If he went looking for the damned thing, she’d no doubt use it to slice him open, and well she should.

  He managed to change into his dressing gown without any more wayward thoughts and eased himself under the coverlet. The bed was narrow for two people, and to avoid touching her, he had to cling to the edge. Unfortunately, the bed had been well used and wanted to drag him closer to her. Blast. Maybe he would have been better off in the chair.

  “James? Are you asleep?” It had been too short a time for him to fall asleep and then there was the matter of hanging onto the edge of the bed so he didn’t roll into her. The bed seemed to vibrate with her shivering. Best if he just ignored it.

  “Not yet. Did you need something?”

  “No. I suppose not. I’m just not used to the cold and… this mattress wants to toss me into the center of it. Never mind, it can’t be helped.”

  “Have you ever shared a bed before? With a friend, I mean?”

  “A few times with the other Heiresses when we were at school and it was storming, or we’d manage to scare ourselves silly and couldn’t sleep.”

  “We could both sleep in the middle.” He had clearly lost his wits, but then that was nothing new with this girl. “I could keep you warm, er, warmer anyway.” He waited for the knife to slice into his back.

  “Oh, that would be much better!” and with that she slid closer to him. He was never going to sleep and was going to have to find a cold bath before going to his lecture. When he turned and tucked her into him, she sighed in relief and stopped shivering in due time. Her hair smelled of herbs and wood smoke. The scents soothed him in a way perfume never would have. “Mmm, much better,” she murmured.

  He ached. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a woman like this. Frankly, he didn’t know if he ever had.

  “I can’t sleep. I’m too excited! This is better than Christmas.” She twitched and shivered against him, only this time in excitement.

  “Go to sleep, Minerva.” He could feel his own body relaxing, softening around hers, with the exception of one part of him. Damned inconvenient.

  “James, what is it like when you are standing up there lecturing?”

  “Not sure I know what you mean.”

  “I don’t know. Do you feel powerful? Or is it more like you are teaching a class? Which might be the same thing. I don’t know. I just can’t wait to see what it all is like.”

  “Minerva. I don’t think… I don’t know that women are allowed in the hall.” He waited for that damn knife again. It was a shame really. She was so bright, had such good ideas, but until society caught up to the fact that women could think, then a woman with a brain was forced to uselessness.

  “Oh. I’d thought that… But I suppose not. Perhaps I could borrow some of your clothes and go as a man?”

  “One look at you, even in breeches, and there would be no doubt you weren’t a man.” He tried to stop the thoughts running rampant in his head. Her shapely bottom, her long legs, encased in breeches and hose made his body tighten, and he pushed out a breath to gain some relief. He could feel the disappointment envelop her. “Maybe there is another way?” What in hell had come over him? He should have just left well enough alone.

  “No, it’s fine. I don’t want to get you in trouble. I’ll just wait here until you get back.” There was something heartbreaking about her small shrug. A resignation that didn’t sit right with him.

  “No, that isn’t fair. Half of that work is yours.” What in all hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he stop encouraging this lunacy?

  “But how could I get in?”

  He’d lectured in that hall before. There was a balcony that was never used.

  “Perhaps… No, it might be too dangerous.”

  “What?” She turned to face him now. In the dying firelight, her eyes shone almost golden, and she was pink with warmth. He had the completely irrational urge to kiss the tip of her nose. He needed to get himself together before he did something they both would regret. He watched, mute, as his arm slid behind her, seemingly of its own volition, and only by sheer strength of will did he not pull her hard against him. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard in a futile attempt to douse his arousal, as it was now buffeted by her warm thighs. Damn him to hell and back.

  “James, are you all right?” His response was a groan. The girl was obviously an innocent, and he sure as hell was no bloody rake. If he ignored it, so much the better. The harsh breath he blew out ruffled her hair. And made her look like a young girl, not a knife-wielding harridan.

  “I’m fine.” Minerva had forced him to lie more than he ever had in his life. “I was thinking you could hide in the balcony. This meeting is held in an auditorium at the university. It is relatively small, but then so is this meeting. No one will see you there.”

  “Oh, thank you! I knew you’d find a way!” With that, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him nearly on top of her. His body jumped as if he’d been struck by lightning, and he flew out of the bed.

  “Don’t!” All the joy that her face had held a moment before was doused by confusion. He wasn’t far behind her. She was just staring at him. He watched her confusion give way to something he couldn’t quite name. Then he looked down at himself and wanted to hide. A short dressing gown to keep off the chill, his smalls, and his own bare legs greeted him. He spun to put his back to her.

  “I’m sorry. It’s nothing.” The tent in his dressing gown was hardly nothing, but he had no intention of explaining male anatomy to an innocent. Luckily, his embarrassment was just the thing to stem his arousal. He kept his back to her a moment longer. “I’m sorry I yelled.” His voice sounded half choked.

  “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry too. Though I don’t think I did anything.”

  “You didn’t.” He was able to face her again. “And the apology is mine to make. I should just sleep in the chair.”

  “We’ve been through that already, and I’m cold without you here. Can we not just share the bed? Maybe if we put two layers of the quilt between us?”

  God love a goose, the man had no sense! He couldn’t very well talk coherently about their work if he’d gotten no sleep, and no sleep was exactly what he’d get in that hard chair. Certainly she was surprised to see him aroused, but it wasn’t as though it was the first time she’d seen something like that. Not that she’d be telling him that bit of information. And sure, it piqued her curiosity as to why, but she knew better than to think it had anything to do with her.

  “See, like this.” She folded the coverlet so it was doubled between them and yet could still cover them both. “You’ll won’t feel me at all. It will be like sleeping with an overstuffed pillow.” He grumbled something she couldn’t quite make out but slid under the remaining covers. She turned her back to him to stave off any more embarrassment between them. She had thought the ton men were randy blighters, but he acted as if she should be horrified. She knew she shouldn’t comment on it and it was best not to encourage him in any way. Her old housekeeper had impressed that much upon her.

  She inched back toward him, making sure the covers stayed bunched between them. She was freezing, and the man gave off heat like a smithy’s forge. A moment later, his arm slid round her waist but not before nudging one of her breasts. She almost laughed out loud at the way he stopped breathing. It was clear he hadn’t meant her any harm.

  Her body relaxed under the warm puffs of air that tickled her neck, and she felt her eyes getting heavy.

  “Why did
you take up this field of study?” he asked.

  “It’s late. We should try to get some sleep.”

  “I know. It’s just that the question has been bothering me since discovering you were M. E. Wright. You have to admit it is rather irregular.”

  She didn’t bother turning toward him, not after last time. “I suppose. I just wanted to study something that was mine alone. My father studies the classics, and then… It doesn’t matter. I just wanted something that no one I knew would interfere with and that was practical. This kind of thing helps people in the here and now. I liked the thought of that.”

  “But you don’t have any land of your own. I mean, your family doesn’t.”

  “No, my father has a house in an unfashionable but safe enough part of the city. And enough pupils who want his attention.”

  “No mother then?”

  “No. Growing up, I had Adeline, our housekeeper. Father would see me at dinner unless he was busy with a pupil. What about you? This isn’t exactly how your average earl makes ends meet. Are you not any good at gambling?”

  His chuckle made her smile. She wasn’t sure why, but she liked making him laugh. It was stupid really. What difference did it make to their collaboration if he enjoyed her little jokes?

  “No idea. I never wanted to find out. My ancestors gambled and squandered away anything that wasn’t entailed.”

  “It couldn’t be as bad as that. What of your parents?” It was probably too forward a question to ask him, but she was curious about him now that she knew a little more.

  “My mother died in childbirth with a younger sibling. When I got older, my father made it clear that the child who died with her was a bastard.”

  “Oh.” His words were said with such a perfunctory tone, as if this was nothing to even remark on. It made her heart break.

  “And your father?”

  “Died when I was seventeen. In a young widow’s bed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was just as well. He’d spent every last penny the family had and was trying to squeeze more from the poor tenants. In the ten years since, I’ve done everything I can to rebuild their properties.”