Page 3 of By Any Other Name

“Rolly?” Gregory patted his cheek. “Wake up, lad.” He lit a lamp and closed the door. Returning to the sofa, he gave the boy a more stinging pat.

Rolly’s eyes flew open. He started to stand, but flopped back against the sofa, blinking. “Who are you?”

“Gregory Rose. Remember?”

“Oh. Of course.”

“You look deuced uncomfortable. Here, let’s get your coat off.” Gregory tugged him forward, grappling with one arm to remove the greatcoat.

Rolly managed to sit up and help pull off his coat before he sank back against the cushion. There was a tear across the front of his jacket.

“Good God!” Gregory leaned forward. It was no rip, but a clean slash. “He stabbed you!”

“What!” Rolly sat up and fumbled at his jacket.

Gregory helped him remove it. The waistcoat beneath held a similar slash on the front right side. Gregory let out a curse. He knelt on the floor in front of the sofa to unbutton Rolly’s waistcoat.

“No, wait.” The young man stirred and shoved feebly at Gregory’s hands. “I can—”

“Hush. He cut right through your clothes. I don’t see any blood, but we have to take a look.”

With the waistcoat open, Gregory unknotted the lad’s neckcloth and started on the ties of his shirt. Annoyingly, Rolly squirmed, pushing ineffectually at Gregory’s hands.

“Holy hell, stop twitching about like a blushing virgin.” Ties undone, Gregory grasped the sides of both shirt and waistcoat and shoved them apart.

He stopped short, gaping. “You have breasts!”

“Ohhhh . . .” The girl moaned, covering her face with her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Gregory grinned, sitting back on his heels. “They are lovely breasts.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Rylla had never in her life been so thoroughly embarrassed. She let out a mortified groan and jerked the sides of her shirt together. Gregory was watching her with an amused grin on his face. His long masculine form was suggestively positioned between her legs. To make the situation even more humiliating, the sight of him there set up a strange heavy heat low in her abdomen. Whatever was the matter with her?

“So you were masquerading as a man tonight—or a lad, I should say,” Gregory said.

“A lad! I am fully twenty-two years old.” It occurred to Rylla that out of all this, she had seized on a peculiar thing to be indignant about.

“A very ripe old age, indeed.” His blue eyes twinkled. “You must admit, though, you are the size of a stripling.”

“There are any number of men my height. It is simply that you are abnormally tall.”

“Ah, of course.” Annoyingly, his grin grew even wider. “I stand corrected.”

“You aren’t standing at all,” she pointed out sourly, and he laughed. “Really, sir, please move. This is not at all proper.”

“And you are such a pillar of propriety.”

Rylla glared. “You are in the way. I cannot get up with you crouched there.”

“That, I think, is for the best. You’re in no condition to be walking about.”

“I’m fine. I was simply dizzy for a moment.”

“Mm. No doubt the impropriety of being attacked outside a gambling hell turned you quite faint.”

Rylla swallowed a bubble of laughter. “You are most annoying.”