Chapter Eleven
June 29, 1817
No. 12 Balsam Court
Manchester Square
Mayfair, London
“W here are you off to this morning, Ceci? To the lending library? The bookshop? You seem quite happy, wherever you’re going.”
Cecilia smiled and looked up as her father came into the morning room where she was enjoying toast with marmalade and a pot of strong tea. “Good morning.” She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin. “I am off for sparring lessons with Lord Lethbridge.”
“Ah.” He filled his own teacup and then sat beside her at the table. “The mysterious earl.” One of his eyebrows rose in question. “The same man gossip is flying about for being seen squiring an unknown woman about twice in the last week. Was that you?”
Heat filled her cheeks. “Most likely.” Thank goodness James hadn’t yet risen for the day. “I know you want to lecture me on the folly of such a thing, of not taking a maid with me, and I understand that. However,” she blew out a breath, “I am seven and twenty, Papa. Not an innocent deb, and neither am I starry-eyed or na?ve. I can take care of myself, especially now.”
“I didn’t accuse you of being any of those things.” Her father took a sip of his tea. “However, I am going to caution you to be careful. The both of you don’t need shredded reputations.”
“Honestly, Papa, I don’t think the earl cares about things like that. For a titled gentleman, he isn’t snobbish or arrogant.” She spread marmalade on a triangle of toast as she thought over her next words. “He isn’t one of those men who reminds you of who he is. I appreciate that.”
“I’ve heard that about him, which is the exact opposite of what his father was like.” He continued to sip his tea as he regarded her with speculation in his eyes. “Lethbridge’s father made the mistake of having his whole identity tied up in his title and the wealth therein. Unfortunately, he became a bit too fond of the gaming tables.”
“I assume he didn’t have skill there?” From everything she’d gleaned from conversations with Lewis, she knew his father had all but bankrupted the family.
“He did not.” A chuckle came from her father. “But he always thought he could restore what he’d lost through winning boxing bouts.” He shrugged. “Yes, the man’s real talent lay in fisticuffs, but when that all came to a stunning, abrupt end, where did he leave his family?”
“In a mess, which the current earl is trying to rectify.” For that, he had her admiration. “I might not know the whole of his history, but keeping his family name in good graces with the beau monde and keeping them together is what drives him.”
“Which means he is an honorable man who won’t put you into danger or treat you badly.”
“No, he won’t,” she agreed in a low voice. “The earl is different from anyone I have ever met, Papa.” Heat popped into her cheeks. “In fact, yesterday he asked if he could pay his addresses to me.”
“Oh?” Surprise propelled that one word into being. “What did you tell him? Ever since your disastrous engagement, you have been adamant that you didn’t want another man in your life.”
“I know, and I did think that. Perhaps still do, deep down.” She frowned at her piece of toast. “Yet there is something about the earl that has captivated me a bit, and despite my reserves and distrust, I would like to see how this might unfold.” As she met his gaze again, she offered a smile. “With your preliminary blessing?”
“I haven’t seen Lethbridge for many years. However, I did know his father and he is a decent boxer.” He slowly nodded. “I will allow this, but eventually, he will need to come here and talk with me. Until then, play by the ton’s rules as much as you can, else gossip will bury the two of you, and I have a feeling a forced engagement won’t sit well with either of you.”
“You’re right.” Fighting off another round of heat in her cheeks, Cecilia ate her piece of toast and then chased it down with some tea. “Which is why I’m meeting Lewis in Hyde Park this early. Not many people will be around to witness our sparring, and it’s a fat lot better than sneaking into the boxing salon while wearing a disguise.”
“That it is.” He nodded and then stood. “I wish you luck, and I’m glad you are not content to stand around waiting for life to happen to you. Some of the men on the docks are crude; they’re greater threats than the earl, I’ll wager.”
“Yes.” She kept her own council on the blows exchanged between Lewis and Mr. Derrickson yesterday. “He won’t hurt me, Papa.” Though, if her father knew the extent that her fiancé had beaten her or that he’d essentially raped her… Well, he’d never let her out of the house. Tears filled her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away. “For whatever reason, I am coming to trust the earl.”
“That’s good, but I still wish to meet him, so I can see for myself.” He leaned down and bussed her cheek. “You are my only daughter. I can’t help but wish to protect you.”
“I will let him know your intentions.” She took refuge behind the rim of her teacup. “I should be home around midday.”
“Enjoy yourself, and if you bring the earl home, I don’t want you alone in the same room with him. You are a beautiful young woman,” he said with a wink.
Another round of heat went through her cheeks, for she had already been quite scandalous with said man. “I’ll call for my maid. You have my promise.”
“Very well.” He nodded, took his folded newspaper and then strode to the door. “I’m at the office should you have need of me.”
A few flutters went through her belly, for she couldn’t wait to see what the day would bring. After all, this was the first day the earl would officially start courting her.
*
“I’m anxious to start. I’ve wanted to get back to sparring since that first time.” The spot in Hyde Park the earl had chosen was quite remote and set back within the trees. Somehow, he’d found a small clearing of grass near a thin, gurgling stream.
“When you knocked me on my arse?” Since he’d already stripped to navy breeches and a fine lawn shirt, she only needed to remove her bonnet and spencer.
“Yes.” As she roved her gaze over his chest while he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, heat came over her. What she wouldn’t give to see him bare chested instead. “It wasn’t my fault you were distracted.”
Would that happen again this morning?
“True. I challenge you to see if you can do that again.” When he sent her a grin, a push of heat went into her cheeks.
“What if I don’t want to strike you again?”
“That is the gist of boxing. Besides, when you tagged me the last time, you didn’t cause pain.”
“Then I shall need to do a better job this time, but I promise to avoid your left shoulder.” That caused her considerable worry anyway. When she blew out a breath, a curl ruffled on her forehead. Though she’d put her hair in a braid and pinned it about her head like a coronet, there was no breeze, which made the air a bit stifling.
“Don’t think about that; your attacker that you might face won’t give you the same consideration.” Lewis tugged a pair of worn, brown leather gloves—mittens—from the bag he’d brought. “Put these on.”
“They really are quite ugly.” Once she held them, she wrinkled her nose. “And they stink.”
“Many men wear them in the salon, and since we aren’t attending tea, you’ll survive.” Lewis snorted with laughter. “How is your father this morning?” He slipped on a matching pair of gloves, pulled the laces tight with his fingers and teeth where needed.
She wished she was that coordinated. “He is well, but as expected, he wants to meet you.” With a grunt, Cecilia tugged on the padded mittens. “Especially when I told him of your wish to pay your addresses to me.”
“Does he think me good enough for you?” Apprehension darkened his eyes.
It was adorable seeing his vulnerability. “He is hopeful, I think, and protective.”
“Well, he is your father.”
“These gloves are tighter than the ones from the other day. I can barely curl my fingers.”
“Perhaps I grabbed the wrong size, but many pairs were in use this morning. The padding will prevent serious injury.”
“Then why use them?”
“I don’t wish to hurt you. This is a training scenario only, not a scene where we beat each other to a pulp.”
Worry flitted through her mind. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t, so ignore the thought.” Command rolled in his voice. “You’re letting fear overrule your common sense.” He came forward, closing the short distance, and dropped his gloved hands on her shoulders. “Concentrate on the lesson. You’ve done well so far. Don’t let fear be the bully, else you’ll lose the fight from within, and I know you are not the sort of woman to let anyone control you.”
“I am not.” She grinned. “Not even you.”
“As it should be. Now, fists at the ready. Knees slightly bent. Keep your muscles loose. Remember to circle your opponent—me.”
“Will you tag me first?”
“Come at me and we’ll both find out together. Since this is sparring, we will exchange blows.” He gestured with his padded fists and then assumed the position. “Give me your all, and I’ll do the same. Within reason, of course.”
“Right.” She smacked her gloved hands together. “No mercy, Lethbridge.”
“I shouldn’t think so. Think of me as Mr. Derrickson.”
She made a gagging sound. “You are a hundred times better than him. More handsome, too.” As Cecilia planted her feet, she lifted her fists, and leaned forward slightly. “He won’t give up, you know.”
“And neither will I relax my protection of you.” He gently tagged one of her mittens with his, setting them both into motion by circling her. “You hesitated too long, so I took the advantage. No distractions, remember.”
“Not fair.” But she circled him, watched him. Then, she struck, threw a punch… that missed his upraised fist. Both of them. “Drat.”
“Sometimes, patience is your best bet. Have you been doing that?”
Cecilia snorted. “Not recently. There have been other… activities to hold my interest.”
A dark flush rushed up his neck and into his cheeks. “Fair enough, but the people who would beat us down or bully us will never play fair, which is why you’ve asked me to teach you to box. Lead with your knuckles and trust yourself.” Again, he tapped her gloved hand with his and darted away. “Come at me.”
“You won’t like it.”
“Neither will you if I need to defend, but it is my hope you’ll grow to love the sport.”
“I am already fairly engaged with it, so we are on the right path.” Cecilia circled him while keeping her mittened fists raised.
Each time he threw a punch, he connected lightly with her hands. When he returned to a guarded stance, she swung. The first few missed him, and he retreated, which made her concentrate that much more. Truly, boxing was more than using one’s fists.
“Why can I not punch you? I did it with ease the last time we sparred.” Frustration rang in her tone. When she lashed out with what should have been an uppercut, she only grazed the tip of his mitten.
“Because last time you were trying to prove something to me.” Lewis held up a hand. “Now, you’ve either grown lax or your concentration is not on me as your opponent or on boxing in general.” When she frowned, he blew out a breath. “What has you distracted? And I will not be amused if you say me.”
She snorted. “You are not, at least not in that way.”
Much.
“Oh, thank you.” Sarcasm lingered in his voice. “Are you worried about your brother or your father?”
The corners of her lips twitched, but she didn’t fully smile. “No.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What, then?” He propped one mittened hand on his hip, which only served to call her attention to that part of him. “Let’s have it out in the open so we can move forward.”
“It is you I’m worried about.” She stepped forward and shoved at his shoulder. “Do you have any more illegal bouts scheduled?”
“I do not, but if a boxer drops out and I’m offered the chance, I will take it.”
“For the coin.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. I have responsibilities.”
“So do your brothers. They are helping the family coffers as best they can.”
“I’m the head of the family now; it falls on me.” He huffed as he stared at her. “It is my burden to carry. Not yours.”
“Perhaps a week ago it was, but not now.” She propped her mittened fists on her hips, which had his gaze jogging down her body, leaving heated tingles behind. “You and I are… partners. And we were since you decided to court me. When I’m in trouble, I hope you’ll help—which you have. The same goes for you. I’m not going anywhere, Lewis, but I don’t want you to put yourself into a position where you might be seriously hurt, which might affect your future.”
“I understand.” His eyes rounded and surprise reflected in those green-brown depths. “It’s flattering, for I’ve never had anyone in my life who wished to see to my protection.”
“The man in a relationship is not required to do it all, and he isn’t supposed to be the strong one all the time.” Her chin quivered and a sheen of tears rose into her eyes. “You treat me with respect, and I do the same for you. If we don’t trust each other, this relationship won’t work.”
Wasn’t that the point of sparring also?
“You are quite something,” he said with a slight grin that put flutters into her belly.
“As are you.” Cecilia pressed her lips together. “Agreed?”
“Fine.” He nodded. “Finish this lesson, this sparring, and we’ll talk about our courtship.” Putting space between them, he raised his glove-covered fists. “Of all the women in London, I had to find myself involved with the most stubborn.”
“Ha!” She resumed the stance for a fight. “I have simply learned to fight back, to fight for the life I want,” she said with a wobbly smile, for there wasn’t anywhere else in the world she wanted to be in this moment.
“I’m proud of you, for you have come a long way since that first day you came into my salon.” Lewis stepped forward and rested a mitten-covered hand on her shoulder. She tilted her chin up so their gazes met. “Keep making a stand. It’s an attractive quality.”
“Oh?” Immediately, her expression brightened.
“You have a backbone and spirit. Decent men appreciate that.” He stepped away. “Use your difficulties and challenges as your fuel.”
For long moments, they circled each other over the soft early summer grass. Then she gasped. “I just realized what I want to do with my life soon.”
“And what would that be?”
“Teach other women to fight so they can fight off attackers of their own. You might not be able to teach them because of society’s views, but I can. Or we can together if we had a private salon.” Another gasp, for she was rushing her fences. They might not suit for a lifetime. “Er, I mean, perhaps. I just enjoy boxing so much,” she rushed to add, when his eyebrows soared.
“You are amazing, Lia. I’m damned glad I met you.” Though he said nothing about the future, he didn’t need to. The bemused expression on his face spoke volumes.
And her confidence soared. She again raised her hands. “Shall we begin?”
“I rather think we already have.” When he raised his fists, he flashed a grin. “If need be, think of me as the man who perpetuated your reason for boxing lessons, the person you wish to pummel into the ground.” He circled her. “Come at me with vigor this time.” Then his eyes took on a faraway look. Was he woolgathering?
It didn’t matter. His distraction was her opening, so she tagged his shoulder, which brought his attention to her face.
“Damn! Good show!”
“Ha!” Cecilia again raised her fists, her gaze never leaving his. “Stand and deliver, Lethbridge. Next time, I’ll find my mark on your handsome face.”
“And add to my bruises?”
“Unless you defend yourself.”
He snorted. “Confidence is the first step to outsmarting your opponent.” Once more he circled her, and it was an odd sort of dancing, this bobbing, weaving, constantly moving over the grass.
“You are a lovely teacher.” And if she wasn’t careful, she might fall for him before her head was ready. Then, she darted into his space, and when she threw a punch, it connected with his left fist. The smack of leather against leather resounded in the air, as did his groan. “I’m sorry.”
“Never apologize during sparring. Keep going,” Lewis encouraged in a soft voice.
“There is a certain thrill to this sport, a rush of excitement, and an immediate disposal of everything unpleasant in one’s mind as soon as my fist connects.”
“Yes! That is exactly it.” He gestured at her with a glove. “Punch me again.”
“All right.”
As she gained more confidence in her stance and the power she wielded with her fists, her punches connected more solidly with his gloves. Occasionally, Lewis would swing and tap her hands or tag her shoulders, but she quickly learned how best to defend herself, when to retreat, how to rout him and set him on the defensive.
“You are doing well; I’m in awe of how you’ve taken to the sport.”
“I’m merely studying you.” She emulated him, watched his feet, bounced her gaze between his fists each time he jabbed or lunged, then she made the same work for her. “And it is lovely exercise.”
As the lesson continued, sweat dampened her back and made her cotton dress and shift stick to her skin. Sweaty tendrils of hair clung to her temples, and each time she delivered a punch, she grunted. Her jabs connected more solidly so that she felt them whenever she found her mark.
And it was quite thrilling.
Then the sparring intensified. The tip of her glove glanced over his cheek, and when she voiced concern, he came roaring back, his glove skimming her shoulder. With a huff, she delivered a jab that caught him in the breadbasket—she thought that was what it was called—and left him temporarily winded.
“Nicely done.” Then Lewis struck out and landed a soft blow to her other shoulder, which spun her about.
“Oh… you!” Cecilia came back like a wet cat. She pummeled his fists with enough force that he stepped backward a few times as she advanced. He tagged the shell of her ear, so she gave him a jab to the temple.
“Had you been a man with bare knuckles, that would have sent me to my knees.
Admiration rang in his voice.
“Not bad from a woman, hmm?”
“Again, I’m proud of you.”
And they continued to spar in the clearing.
“Is that the best you have, Lia?” The taunting in his voice annoyed her as he wiped at the sweat on his forehead with a sleeve.
“You tell me.” Before he was ready, Cecilia got off a punch to his chin, though gloved, that sent him reeling backward until he toppled over onto his back.
For the second time in their acquaintance during sparring.
“Yes!” With a grin, she put a foot on his chest. “You’ve been down for more than three seconds, Lethbridge. Does that mean I’ve won this bout?”
His grin was quite cheeky. “That is exactly what it means.” His voice was still winded.
The giddiness in her chest couldn’t be contained. She stepped away and gave a little jump for joy. “You didn’t let me win?”
“I did not.” He moved his jaw around. “There’s a bit of pain there because that was a fantastic punch.” The longer he looked at her with admiration and pride, the warmer she grew. “Our next lesson should be quite interesting.”
“Will we box with bare knuckles?”
“No.” He snorted, and when she offered him a gloved hand, he grasped it and together they levered him to his feet. “I don’t want your hands bruised or your knuckles bloodied.”
“Oh.”
“However, there is something I wish to ask you.” When she cocked an eyebrow, waiting, he sighed and worked at removing his mittens. “My mother is throwing a summer ball in a handful of days. Will you attend as my guest?”
Cecilia stared at him. “You want me to come to a ball with you?” Did she even have a suitable gown?
“I would, yes. You can meet my mother and perhaps dance with my brothers.” He shrugged. “It is my hope you will rub along well with my family. For obvious reasons.” There was an intensity in his eyes that sent tingles of need down her spine.
It was a huge step, and one that caused her a decent amount of trepidation, but she nodded and held out her hands so he could help her out of the mittens. “I would adore that. Thank you.” After clearing her throat, she asked, “What if your mother deems me not good enough for you?”
“Then I will tell her all the reasons why she is wrong… or I can put you both into a boxing ring at the salon and let you spar it out.”
“Don’t you dare!”
He chuckled as he removed her second glove. “All will be well. Don’t worry.” With a soft growl, the earl tugged her into his arms and set out to apparently kiss her senseless. Afterward, when they were both breathless, he grinned. “Ah, Lia, life has become quite interesting since I met you. I don’t know how to think about that.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t question fate, hmm.” But she smiled as she retrieved her mittens from the ground. There was no doubt now; she was becoming rather more fond of him than what was probably good for her.
So why was she steeling herself for something bad to happen?