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“Just here, sir,” the clerk set down a carton.

Mr. Kingston opened it, his full lips moving silently as he counted the bullets in the container. Satisfied with the purchase, he closed the box and nodded.

“Twenty-five pounds I believe you said,” Mr. Kingston said pulling his bill fold out of his coat pocket.

“Thirty, sir.”

Mr. Kingston paused, billfold in hand, and those eyes fixed on the clerk with a steady weight that had even Regina squirming. What was happening? Was the clerk lying about the price? Mr. Kingston’s eyes swept up and down the young man as he took a step back despite the safety of the counter.

Resolute, calm and sharper than a winter wind. He was magnificent. “Is it indeed?” His voice was soft but there was an unmistakable threat there.

The clerk’s eyes shifted away from Mr. Kingston to land on Regina who continued to stare, wondering if he had the gall to see his farce through. “I could be mistaken,” the clerk confessed.

“You could be,” Mr. Kingston replied. “You could, of course, check the order book to make sure.” Then he smiled, reminding Regina of a snarling tiger. “If you were of a mind to be sure, that is…”

“Such a loyal customer as yourself, Mr. Kingston, let us call it twenty.”

“Let’s not,” he replied, laying down a few pound notes.

Regina craned her neck to see the amount, now fully invested.

Twenty-five . She couldn’t help the smile that curved her mouth.

He was marvelous. He glanced around the store as he put away his billfold and she quickly turned her eyes away, pulling at her gloves.

Had he seen her? Would he ignore her? Did she want him to ignore her?

What if he was cross with her and took this as an opportunity to scold her as she had done to him?

“Miss Mason.”

She turned to face him hoping she appeared calm and unaffected. “Mr. Kingston, are you shopping for a new pistol?”

“Picking it up actually.”

“Ah.” Think Regina. Think! “Which do you favor?”

“Colt’s Navy Pistol, and yourself?”

Of course he would think of asking that. “I enjoy his Dragoon.”

He nodded and Regina again found herself unsure of where to take the conversation. He didn’t seem cross at all. Should she apologize for earlier? Did he even care? Perhaps it was vanity to think she had wounded a grown man like him.

“Would I be mistaken in assuming you are here with your father?”

“No, I am here with my father.” She glanced around for him but could not locate him. “We are looking at the particulars for my new pistol.”

“Are you indeed?” His head tilted as he watched her with that frank admiration she still hadn’t grown used to.

“Yes, we struck a bargain involving my new mother-in-law and one of those fine instruments, but I’m currently in negotiations for a pair.”

His eyes widened comically. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Afraid, you?” She could think of nothing more ridiculous than him being afraid of a question. Unless of course it was coming his way. “It is a possibility, I suppose.”

He smiled softly but it wasn’t the same. He looked down at the package in his hands, and for a horrible moment she wondered if she had done irreparable damage. It was what she wanted in the moment, but faced with him now, the idea of having harmed him was intolerable.

“Miss Mason, I believe I offended you the last time we spoke,” he said finally, looking back at her.

She didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t so much that she had been offended. Rather that she had felt herself slipping even further into that wildly inconvenient feeling which surfaced every time he was near.

“If so, I apologize.”

“You didn’t offend me. I was in an irritable mood and reacted badly. I apologize.”

“Not a word of it. What little I do know… you are a rare person indeed.”

She couldn’t look at him. “Thank you.” She almost left it there but the idea of him believing she was annoyed or angry with him was uncomfortable even if convenient. “I was only disconcerted by your question and the accuracy of your reasoning after such a short acquaintance.”

“Ah, likewise,” he replied.

“It is good of you to acknowledge it. You ran away quickly enough, didn’t you?”

His head was shaking before she even finished her statement. “I did not run away.”

“Yes, you walked. Swiftly.”

He looked as though he wanted to argue but instead shook his head and looked away from her with a wry smile.

So they were friends again. It gave her the courage to admit what she wanted to ignore. “What you asked me before, about my name. No one has ever asked me that.”

“Was I correct?”

That would be his concern. She nodded. “Yes.”

“I… although I risk your ire, I only wanted to say that I am sorry for the necessity of your actions. Being extraordinary under duress is exhausting.”

She swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat as her heart fell further under his spell. “It is.”

“Regina, who are—oh, it is Mr. Kingston again,” her father’s face went from wary curiosity to delight. “Good day to you, sir,” he said holding out his hand.

Mr. Kingston blinked as if in surprise and shook his hand firmly, “Good day, Captain Mason.”

“My Gigi and I are shopping for a new pistol.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a warm hug.

“So, she said.” Mr. Kingston nodded in her direction.

“She is a crack shot you know,” her father bragged, pointing to her.

“I did not.” Mr. Kingston glanced down at her, “But somehow I am not surprised by that fact.”

“Are you purchasing one yourself?”

“Yes.”

“You know, Lord Melbroke mentioned that you were in the army?”

Mr. Kingston seemed to hesitate before he responded. “I was, yes.”

“I take it you were stationed overseas, yes?”

He shifted from one foot to the other. “Yes, I served in the Thirty nineth Foot.”

“My old squadron!” Her father announced with excitement, missing his discomfort.

“So it would seem.”

“But I’ve never seen you at the Oriental Club.”

“No, no you wouldn’t have. I’m not a member.”

Not a member of the Oriental Club? Even Regina knew that was strange. It would have been such a social boon that would have undoubtedly helped his business to grow.

“It is for men like us who served in India. I’m sure you have your own connections but, if you have need of a sponsor, I would happily serve as one on your behalf.”

“That is very kind of you, sir,” Mr. Kingston replied, although Regina would have wagered any amount of money that the last thing he wanted was to join the club. Had he been rejected? What on earth could have happened to make him avoid such a place?

“Not at all. And while we are discussing invitations, Lord Melbroke is having a soiree soon. I believe you should expect an invitation.”

Mr. Kingston frowned in confusion. “I have no idea why he would have me as a guest at his table.”

“Nonsense, ‘one good turn,’ Mr. Kingston. I believe he sees you as a good person to have close by. I cannot say I disagree.”

“Especially after what you did for Miss Hawthorne and Mrs. Thompson,” Regina added.

Mr. Kingston shook his head, already rejecting the idea. “I cannot help but feel my involvement in that entire enterprise has become mythologized.”

“If you feel strongly about it, you can always take it up with the Viscount,” Regina replied, and he glared at her.

“Thank you, Miss Mason.”

She tried not to smirk, but her mouth got away from her.

“Not sporting at all, Gigi,” her father said. “Sir, we will leave you to the rest of your day. I imagine we will see each other again very soon.”

“Indeed. Good day Captain, Miss Mason.”

Regina curtsied, stealing a glance at him as he walked out the door.

“What a capital fellow.”

“He is very good.” Although his discomfort with praise bordered on compulsive. He had admitted she was correct in her assessment of him in the park. Had he truly been targeted for excelling to the point that he actively disliked praise of any kind?

“He is indeed. Now, do you know what you want yet, choti rani?”

Unfortunately for Regina, she knew exactly what she wanted, but she also knew what was possible. There was no point in conflating the two, even if she allowed her eyes to wander. She would never have the husband she wanted but at the very least she’d have a gun of her choosing. “Yes, baba.”