He gathered that his presence in her house had to do with the bandage on his arm. There was singing in the street, he recalled with a lazy smile. The gunshot was remembered less favorably. Clearly, he had caused a scene. Little by little details returned to him as he drank his coffee. After he’d just poured a second cup, Julianna sauntered into the breakfast room, soft from sleep. First she glared at him, then her eyes widened and her lips parted when she noticed he did not have a shirt on, just his waistcoat. He hadn’t been able to find his shirt or jacket. She gave a sharp look to her maid, Penny, that asked, What is he still doing here? “I’m sorry, milady. But he’s a charmer,” was all her redheaded maid said by way of explanation. “Please find him his shirt. Promptly,” Julianna ordered. Penny gave him a wink before she left him alone with the shooting she-devil. Roxbury suppressed a smirk. He was glad to know his talents for charm hadn’t gotten too rusty since he’d been out of practice lately.
