Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
B y the time Darcy finally reached the warehouse, the pugilists were done sparring, and money had begun changing hands. Darcy did not feel he had money to burn, considering that his stay at The Fox indeed, how could he? Between Darcy’s ragged clothing, thicker musculature, short hair, and full auburn beard, he was a completely different man.
Oh, Darcy was going to enjoy this.
And enjoy it he did. For about ninety seconds. It was just after Wickham had fallen for the feinting tactic Beech had been working on with him on that something flashed in the man’s eyes. Their gazes locked for what seemed like an eternity; Wickham blinked and furrowed his brows, his eyes alight with recognition. The smirk reappeared, and Darcy wanted nothing more than to knock the smug look from his despicable face.
However, Darcy never had the chance. With a fury Darcy had never witnessed in anyone, Wickham came at him like a wild animal. His fists flew through the air in a frenzy as they made contact again and again. It was all Darcy could do to step back as his former friend punched him with a power he would not have thought possible from the lithe man. Finally, Darcy manoeuvred himself around Wickham and was able to trap him in a clinch that suspended the most brutal of his blows.
“What now, Darcy?” Wickham spat as he tried unsuccessfully to wrest himself from Darcy’s arms, practically foaming at the mouth in his seething hatred.
“I suppose that is up to you,” Darcy grunted, able to keep Wickham in the hold, but only just.
“I need this prize! Unlike you,” Wickham growled through gritted teeth. “I am not here to indulge some fantasy of slumming it among the great unwashed.” Wickham landed an elbow to Darcy’s ribs before adding, “Have you not done enough?”
What on earth had he ever done to Wickham? What right did he have to be so angry?
Before he could speak, Wickham flung both elbows out, dislodging Darcy’s locked arms and breaking free from his grasp.
With two more jabs and a baffling uppercut to the jaw, Darcy was down. The fight was called, and Wickham was handed the purse. He heard a roar from where Jameson stood and told himself he would need to compensate the man for a bout he would have surely won, if not for Darcy’s interference.
Darcy rose just as Wickham was shrugging on his jacket and raising his eyebrow at one of the young women who frequented these fights and offered to ‘tend to the boxers’ wounds’—for a small fee, of course. Darcy jogged up behind the victor and clasped his shoulder before he could engage the girl’s services.
“What is it?” Wickham snarled.
“Why are you here? Who sent you?” Darcy demanded.
“Sent me? You think I was sent here? For you?” Wickham scoffed. “In true Darcy style, he thinks everything that happens in the world has to do with him!”
“You did not know I was in Clerkenwell?”
“No. I did not know you were in Clerkenwell,” he mimicked in a mocking tone. “Had I known, I would have stayed well clear of the place. You are the last man I wish to encounter, though, I must say, this particular encounter proved quite profitable. Thanks for that,” Wickham laughed, tossing the coin pouch in the air and catching it swiftly.
His flippancy only rankled Darcy. “Then why are you here?”
“I was kicked out of my regiment, as you well know, after someone—I cannot imagine who—contacted my superior officer and accused me of badmouthing Prinny. As if I give a flying?—”
“They claimed you maligned the Prince Regent?” This could not be a coincidence.
“Something about learning of an assassination plot and not reporting it. At any rate, it lost me my commission and left me penniless and homeless. This,” he said, jangling the coins in his hand, “is my entire livelihood. I doubt it is even enough for a meal and a bed.”
“Come,” Darcy said with some hesitation, “I shall put you up. We must talk.”
Wickham laughed out loud. “Oh, now I am a welcome visitor at Darcy House, am I? I thought you told me that if my boots ever crossed your threshold again, those would be the last steps I ever took?”
“We are not going to Darcy House.”