With Love in Their Corner (The Boxers of Brook Street #1)

Chapter Thirteen

July 1, 1817

Stapleton House

Marylebone, Mayfair

London, England

D ear heavens. I think I’m going to retch.

This morning, a courier had come to the house with an invitation to join the Countess of Lethbridge for tea that afternoon. There had been no reason or explanation given, just the invitation, and now, as she followed the butler up a wide marble staircase, she couldn’t help the flutters of anxiety that bounced around in her belly.

Why does Lewis’ mother want to see me?

Perhaps Lewis had told her of his courtship and now his mother wished to contend it?

There was no way of knowing.

At the drawing room doors, the butler paused. “Miss Dawson is here to join you for tea, Your Ladyship,” he said in a tone that sent a bit of a chill down her spine.

“Lovely, show her in, Garrison.” Though the countess’ voice had a cheerful ring to it, that didn’t alleviate the worry gripping Cecilia’s stomach.

When the butler moved aside, he gestured her into the room. “I’ll order your tea now.”

“Thank you.” The countess nodded, though her gaze was fixed firmly on Cecilia. “Welcome to my home. I’m so glad you accepted my invitation.”

She was a lovely woman whose features put her in mind of each of her three sons. They all took after her in some way. Her brown hair had been arranged in an upswept style, and in the sunlight streaming in through the open windows, strands of silver glimmered in her tresses. Her gown of robin’s egg blue satin gave her face youthful color and life. When she smiled, fine lines framed her mouth and crinkled the delicate skin at the corners of her eyes, but by and large, she was a handsome woman for her age.

A masculine chuckle tugged Cecilia’s attention to the other occupant of the room, Lord Wexley, Lewis’ middle brother. “I rather think you didn’t give her the choice, Mama.” He nodded at her. “Good afternoon, Miss Dawson. It is good to see you again.”

Though having a familiar presence there brought her a modicum of calm, he didn’t prevent her nerves from being felt strung too tight. “Hullo, Lord Wexley. It’s lovely to see you as well.” She glanced at the countess, who waved her into a chair. “Thank you for the invitation, Lady Lethbridge.” Belatedly, she realized she’d left home without a maid, which was so far beyond the proper etiquette she shuddered to know what the countess thought of her.

“You are quite welcome.” The older woman settled into a low sofa while the viscount took the chair next to Cecilia’s. “My son Lewis told me a couple of days ago that he’d entered into a courtship with you, so I had the thought that you and I should come to know each other better.”

“It sounds logical, of course.” She frowned as she bounced her notice between the two of them. “Will Lord Lethbridge join us for tea, then?”

“Unfortunately, he will not,” the countess said with a quick shake of her head. “He is currently meeting with his man-of-affairs for a few things.”

Beside her, the viscount snorted. “And he doesn’t know Mama issued you the invitation to tea,” he said, with a rather cheeky grin. “When he is informed of it after the fact, I’m sure he will be quite vocal in his displeasure.”

“Hush, Alexander, else you will frighten our guest away,” the older woman said, with a faint frown. “And we wouldn’t want that.”

Cecilia tamped down the urge to heave a sigh. It was difficult to determine why the countess had invited her today. “Why will the earl prove upset? Did he not want me to come here today or even meet with his mother?” Did she sound as insecure as she felt?

“Calm yourself, Miss Dawson.” Compassion reflected in the viscount’s eyes. “He will only be out of sorts because he hasn’t seen you for two days. I would imagine the absence is grating on his nerves, but obligations have kept him from calling on you. Still, make no mistake. He mentions you quite often.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” Yet she took the words at face value. Glad for the reassurance, Cecilia nodded. “Thank you for the clarification.”

Nothing else was said, for a footman brought in a tea service on a silver tray, which he set on the low table in front of the countess. Once he exited the room, the older woman was the first to break the silence.

“My son tells me that you are taking boxing lessons from him. Is that true?” As she spoke, the countess poured tea into a dainty bone china cup decorated with a tiny spray of painted flowers on the front.

“Um, yes, it is.” If her nerves pulled any tighter, they would likely snap beneath her skin. After accepting the cup from her, Cecilia rushed to fill the silence. “I was quite desperate to visit the boxing salon.”

“Why was that? Did you have designs on one of my sons?” Though it was said in a perfectly pleasant voice, the countess’ eyes had narrowed slightly.

“Bad form, Mama,” Lord Wexley hissed. “Behave.” Once he’d accepted his own cup, he nodded at Cecilia. “Please continue, and don’t mind my mother’s overly protective probing.”

“I did not, in fact.” Still wishing to make a good impression on the woman, Cecilia offered a smile she hoped would disarm the countess. “I do accounting work at my father’s shipping office, which is on the East India Dock. Sometimes this means that I am accosted and faced with unwanted and unwelcome attention from some of the works over there.”

“Your father is not always at his office?”

“No. Sometimes he meets with clients and prospective investors while other times he must examine cargo that has come in.” She paused to take a sip of tea, and though she wished she’d added a lump of sugar to the brew, she wasn’t about to put forth a distraction from the conversation or have this woman potentially judge her on the size of the sugar lump. “In the past month, a Mr. Derrickson has been particularly vexing in his attentions that grow increasingly bold and violent. Instead of waiting around to become a victim, I brought myself to the boxing salon in a bid to request lessons in how I might defend myself.”

Shock went through Lord Wexley’s expression. Had he not known the reason for her willingness to learning fisticuffs, or did something else surprise him?

“That is quite a scandalous risk you took, Miss Dawson.”

“Perhaps, but the alternative is even more unpleasant, wouldn’t you say, Lady Lethbridge?” Refusing to back down, Cecilia continued, and took comfort from the warm tea in the porcelain teacup. “You might think it scandalous to come into a boxing salon that is a male domain, but I was desperate to keep myself alive. When I applied to your son and asked for lessons, I came in the disguise of a young man. No one there knew I was a woman, and in the event you wondered, I have just cause to mistrust men’s intentions.”

“Why is that, dear?”

With a sigh and a quick glance at the viscount, who gave her an encouraging nod, Cecilia rested her gaze on the countess. “I was engaged years ago.”

“Oh?” Surprise lined the older woman’s face. “To whom?”

“A Mr. Ulstead. He was the son of a viscount, and the match had been arranged by my father, who used to be a friend of the man’s.” She shrugged, for it was ancient history by now, but she was quite mollified that Lewis hadn’t blabbed her history to his family. “During our courtship, everything was lovely and felt very magical. However, after we’d been engaged for a handful of months, Mr. Ulstead began showing the true sense of who he was.”

“Why did any of that bring you to my son’s boxing salon?” Confusion sounded in the countess’ voice. “What happened?”

“To put it bluntly, he beat me. He had quite the temper, and whenever anything displeased him, he took out that anger on me.” She kept her gaze firmly glued to the cup and saucer in her lap. “Yes, it is highly embarrassing, and no doubt you’ll say I should have kept that to myself for it is scandalous to admit, or even perhaps that it was my duty as an engaged woman.” The lump of emotion in her throat caused her breath to catch, but after a swallow, she kept going. “Eventually, I couldn’t bear it any longer and couldn’t continue to hide the bruises or keep myself locked in the townhouse, so I told my father.”

The viscount leaned forward in his chair as shock still ruled his expression. “Did he run the man off?”

“He did.” She allowed a tiny smile. “Honestly, I thought the man was run out of England, for I hadn’t seen him for years… until the other day when Lewis fought him in that bout. I had no idea Mr. Ulstead even knew how to box let alone had become a prize fighter.”

Lady Lethbridge gasped. “You attended a bout?”

Before she could answer, Lord Wexley interrupted. “She went with us in disguise. There was no danger of her being seen.”

“That is the height of scandal, Alexander!” Censure rang in the countess’ voice. “Have you all gone mad?”

He ignored her. “No wonder Lewis was adamant that he win the bout. Did you tell him who his opponent truly was?”

Slowly, Cecilia nodded. “Yes, but I told him days before how Mr. Ulstead had treated me.” She took a sip of tea. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything to him, for it’s not the best of subjects, but I believe in being honest, and if my words can either call attention to the plight of women or help others to understand…” Her words trailed off, for would it even matter with the countess?

For long moments, Lady Lethbridge remained silent. Finally, she sighed and looked at her son. “Did Lewis win the match?”

“Unfortunately, he did not due to being a bit distracted, I think, for it was clear Mr. Ulstead didn’t have the same skill as Lewis.”

“I see.” Then she landed her attention on Cecilia. “You must have been frightened when you entered the boxing salon for the first time.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded. “I was, but something had to change, and if I wanted that, it needed to start with me.”

“I can’t imagine how much fortitude it took on your part to make those first steps or to survive all that you have,” the countess said in a soft voice. “You have my respect, Miss Dawson, even though doing any of that is the height of scandal.”

“I can only be who I am, Your Ladyship, and how could I be happy with myself if I allowed such abuse and disrespect to continue?” In that moment, she didn’t care if the countess approved of her or not. She was proud of the woman she was becoming.

“Well said, Miss Dawson,” Lord Wexley said, with a nod and amusement dancing in his hazel eyes so like Lewis’. “I can see why Lewis wished to court you.”

“Thank you. He is no slouch in overcoming disappointments and obstacles himself.” In silence, she finished her tea. Though she might want a couple of the honey cakes resting on the tray, she refrained from asking, for her appetite had fled. Oddly, she had missed Lewis over the past two days, and that was something that had never happened to her when it came to men.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Dawson,” Lady Lethbridge said. The emotions in her eyes were inscrutable, but her tone was clearly dismissive. “While you are a lovely woman and you have more mettle in your little finger than most people I have met, I’m certain you will understand when I say that you aren’t what I have envisioned for my oldest son. Far too scandalous, and that will bring gossip and rumors to the Stapleton name. Lord knows we don’t need any more of that.”

Both she and Lord Wexley gasped.

“Mama, for shame!” he hissed in outrage. “Who the devil cares if she’s not of the beau monde or even an heiress?”

“What?” Stunned, Cecilia gaped at the woman. “With all due respect, Lady Lethbridge, but I don’t believe any of this is your decision. Unless I hear the same from Lewis, you will need to keep your opinions to yourself.” Her hand shook so badly, she was obliged to set her cup and saucer on the table, then she stood. Then, to her horror, tears welled in her eyes, and slight panic rose in her chest.

“Do you know who you are talking to, Miss Dawson?” Shock threaded through the countess’ voice and lay stamped over her face.

“I do, sadly, and I thought you might have been more well-rounded since you’ve raised three boys into upstanding adults, and you’ve kept your family together after being made a widow in trying circumstances.” As quickly as she could, Cecilia scrambled to her feet. Her cheeks were hot with outrage. “Regardless, I’m sorry you are basing your acceptance on criteria many women can never fill, but I should hope that seeing your son calm and perhaps content would make a difference.”

Lord Wexley shot into a standing position. “Please don’t go, Miss Dawson. My mother isn’t usually so rude.”

“That very well may be so, but worry for her son or her family shouldn’t be made an excuse to treat someone else badly.” She gave him a small grin. “Thank you for your kindness.” Then she glanced at the countess. “Thank you for the invitation and the tea. Please have Lewis call on me as soon as he can.”

From the press of her lips into a tight line, Cecilia rather doubted that she would convey the message to her son.

With a half-stifled sob, she fled the room.

Though Lord Wexley called after her, she ignored him and ran toward the stairs. As the first drop of moisture fell to her cheek, she rushed down the stairs like a madwoman, barely waited for the footman to open the door for her. Then she continued to run along the pavement, for the distance between the Marylebone neighborhood and Manchester Square where she lived was quite short.

What would she do now? Despite her words of bravery not two minutes past, if Lewis’ mother didn’t approve of her, how could he defy the countess and continue to see her socially or any other way? She ignored, too, the suspicious ache in her heart that indicated she might care for the earl far more than she should.

Such a stupid ninny you are, Ceci, to fall for a man who is quite unattainable.