Lessons After Dark by Isabel Cooper Read Free Book Online Page A

as a particularly vivid memory crossed his mind.
    â€œMm, yes. Particularly where you and Edward were concerned.”
    â€œYes, but I never started it. Hardly ever,” Gareth admitted. “And Alex was—” He stopped as he realized what he’d said, but couldn’t find any other way out of the sentence. Simon was inspecting the wall again, a bit more carefully than anyone needed to. “Was no stranger to temper either,” he finished. “Sorry.”
    He wasn’t exactly sure what had happened to Alex Reynell, only that it had involved Simon, the woman who was now Simon’s wife…and blood. There’d been the official story: plucky widow menaced by deranged man of fortune, saved by equally wealthy but hopefully saner gentleman, pistol shots, and mysterious escapes. Gareth didn’t believe it, particularly not once he’d met Mrs. Grenville.
    Gareth also hadn’t asked. He’d been sad when he’d heard, and surprised, but he’d never been close to Alex. Simon had, and so Gareth hadn’t asked.
    He didn’t now. If Simon wanted to talk, he would, but Gareth doubted it. The man had another confidant these days.
    Something silver-blue glimmered on the wall. Gareth took a few steps forward, peering at the bricks. He could just make out an outline, although he couldn’t tell what it was. The shape was almost runic, yet curved: a long, graceful loop. “Very pretty,” he said dryly. “Won’t the builders ask questions or gossip?”
    Simon shook his head. “At this rate, the physical sign will be gone by morning. It’s already fading fast. It was much brighter when I made it.”
    â€œOh,” said Gareth. No paint he knew of was that shade or would fade so quickly.
    â€œDo you want me to tell you?” Simon asked, glancing sideways at Gareth.
    â€œI doubt I’d understand it if you did. I’ll leave those details to you and your…apprentice?”
    â€œKindly refrain,” Simon said cheerfully, “from giving me a beard and a pointed cap in your imagination. And if you mean Mrs. Brightmore, she knows as much as I do—her expertise is simply in different areas. As I hear, you have reason to know. And no,” he added, lifting a hand, “she didn’t tell me you were there.”
    Of course not. She wouldn’t have needed to. “Is it a problem?”
    â€œIt doesn’t seem to be, yet.”
    Gareth lifted his eyebrows. “What do you think I intend to do, Simon? I promise I’ve no wish to put a mouse in Mrs. Brightmore’s desk—not that she has one at the moment—or pour ink down anyone’s back.”
    â€œThat’s a tremendous weight off my mind,” said Simon dryly, “but it’s possible your presence could distract the lady.”
    The lady was used to performing for twenty or thirty people at once. Gareth very carefully didn’t point that out, just as he didn’t mention his real reason for attending the class. He’d already gone around once with Simon over Mrs. Brightmore’s past. He would rather not point out the need for someone to keep an eye on her.
    Even if he wasn’t precisely sure what he was keeping an eye out for .
    â€œIt doesn’t,” he replied instead. “She assured me of as much herself.”
    Simon smiled a little. “Likewise,” he said, “when I asked her about it.”
    There was no reason why that should feel like a betrayal. Simon had a school to run, and it was best to be straightforward. Gareth had always thought so. All the same, the knowledge that Simon had consulted Mrs. Brightmore about his behavior stung. He took a few steps, rounding the corner of the half-built wall. “She teaches well,” he said. “That’s not a surprise, I suppose. Certainly wasn’t as surprising as your wife teaching…boxing?”
    â€œFighting. There’s honor in