Chapter 10
The good thing about twisting her ankle was that Elle now had an excellent excuse not to entertain any potential suitors for the next week or so. Of course, the downside was the lack of Advil or ice packs, and having to be carried around like a child. Callum didn’t seem to mind, but Elle felt terrible about the whole thing.
“There we are now,” he said, setting her gently on one of the sofas in the drawing room.
“Thanks, Callum. I’m sorry—” He cut her off with a raised hand.
“Ack, no apologies. You feel as if I’m lifting a feather pillow, and it’s nice tae feel useful.”
“You’re always useful, dear,” Jocy scolded before giving him a quick kiss. He grinned, eyes crinkling around the corners in a way that made him even more handsome. He pulled her in tight against his body, kissing her again, harder, and she giggled. Elle smiled and looked away, loving how hard they loved, and being insanely jealous of it at the same time.
Callum said his goodbyes and headed out for the afternoon. Jocy handed Elle a stack of paper and some pencils.
“I thought you might get bored sitting here all day.”
Elle took them eagerly. “Bless you.”
“How are you feeling? Not just your ankle. I know yesterday was a hard day.”
“I’m…alright, I think. Mostly. It just hit me harder yesterday that this is all…real, ya know? That this is my life now. That everything then is just…gone, and then the whole extra layer of my epic failed relationship slapping me in the face…” Her eyes watered, and she shook her head. “It was just…a lot to deal with,” she finished with a shuddering breath. “Then to sprain my stupid ankle on top of everything was just the icing on the cake,” she said with a laugh, trying to make light.
“Adjusting to this change is hard. Sometimes, a bad day will strike out of nowhere. It happens to me, even now. No matter how happy I am with everything I gained, there is still a part of me that mourns what I lost.” Elle nodded, understanding what she meant all too well. “But I’m here to help you with your bad days, anytime you need me.”
Elle squeezed Jocy’s arm in thanks and Rose bounded into the room.
“Cousin! How are you?” she fretted, coming to sit beside Elle on the couch.
“I’m alright, really. Just a little sore and I don’t think I’ll be dancing much for the next few days, but I’m ok, I promise.” She gave Rose a reassuring smile and the girl finally seemed to accept that Elle was really alright.
“And how was the rest of your evening with a certain gentleman…?”
Rose beamed, blushing slightly, and the two talked for almost an hour about everything and nothing. It was nice chatting with Rose, and she again wondered why she’d been so eager to let Rosie and the rest of them into her heart. But no matter the reason—fate or loneliness or whatever it may have been—the MacTavishs were her family now. Maybe not by blood, but they were her family in her heart.
Percival came to call and Elle passed the rest of the morning sketching while the two love birds sat on another couch, chatting and having tea.
Eventually she began drawing Alec as he’d looked the night before in the carriage, staring out the window, lost in what Elle could only imagine were terrible memories of Colette’s death. His face had been stark but striking, the lamps within the carriage casting his features in a calming, golden light. She lost herself in the drawing, fingers flying over the page as if she couldn’t capture him quickly enough.
“—gomery?”
Elle yanked her head up, only to find Alec standing a few feet away, staring at her in a way that made it clear he’d said her name more than once. She hastily turned the page over and sat it on the table, straightening.
“Al—Lord Kentworth,” Elle quickly corrected herself, inclining her head. “I suppose you’ll forgive me for not standing to greet you and won’t insult my upbringing and manners?”
“I suppose I can look past it this once,” he agreed, a hint of a smile on his lips. He eased onto the couch beside her and began inspecting her ankle where it had been propped on top of a pile of pillows. Shivers skated up her spine as his fingers traced gently across her skin. Again, she wore no stockings beneath her dress. She despised them and that was the one thing she refused to accept about this time. When Alec had noticed last night, she would have sworn she saw raw desire flash in his eyes, but his mask settled over his features so quickly, she thought she might have imagined it. He probably thought it one more reason why she was not a lady up to his standards, but she didn’t care. She remembered the way he’d gently stroked her skin the night before, without even seeming to realize it, and how that simple touch had sent fire through her veins, made her want him like she’d never wanted anyone else.
She knew how stupid it was, but even now, she barely even noticed the pain, just the feather-light touch of his fingers. He seemed to enjoy the feel of her skin too, touching her more than she thought was strictly necessary from a medical standpoint. She didn’t mind. Maybe I didn’t imagine the desire last night? Their conversation in the carriage had caused something to shift between them. Or at the very least, made her less irritated with him and more intrigued. He’d been so open and honest, so vulnerable, she longed to know what other parts of himself he was keeping hidden from the world. She’d seen beneath the mask and she felt her initial hatred of him fading away.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked as he continued his examination.
“Alright…Sore,” she amended when he gave her a pointed look.
“Well, the swelling isn’t too terrible. A few days of rest and you’ll be perfectly capable of storming away from me again.” His eyes danced with amusement when they met hers. He wasn’t even trying to put the mask back on now. Whatever shift she’d felt after the previous night, he seemed to feel it too. Interesting.
She found herself smiling. “That is good to know.”
He remained after his examination, accepting a drink from Lottie and speaking with Percy, Rose, and Jocy. Elle studied him as he interacted with the others. He smiled and laughed, even blushing slightly when Rose told stories of their childhood. Was it because he didn’t feel as if he had to play a part here among the MacTavish family? An extension of his own family by all counts, really. He caught her staring and straightened, clearing his throat.
“Well, I should be going. I’ll be back to check on your ankle in a few days.”
“Oh, really it’s fine you don’t have to—”
“You are my patient and I will see to your full recovery,” he said, cutting her off politely but firmly. A few days ago, that may have annoyed her, but now, it only made her roll her eyes in exasperation.
A week later, Elle was up and walking again. Her ankle was still a little sore, but the bruising was mostly gone and she was completely over being an invalid. So, with a stubbornness that would have made her mother proud, she mind-over-mattered the hell out of the situation and joined Rose, Jocy, and Callum at the park. To her dismay, the vultures were waiting to pounce the second they saw her. Several men rushed over, making sure she received their flowers and chocolates and well-wishes while she’d been laid up on the couch. She did her duty, smiling and giving thanks for their gracious gestures, but inside she wanted to scream. She was tired of playing this game, tired of feeling like a trophy that these men were desperate to win.
Elle was actually relieved when Alec approached, making the others scatter like stray cats shooed away from the stoop. Henry Astley was the only one who didn’t immediately leave. Instead, he lingered, eyeing Alec with thinly veiled contempt. Alec gave him a haughty smile in return before turning his attention to Elle.
“Miss Montgomery. I thought I should check your injury before you take your turn around the park.”
Elle glanced at Henry quickly, noting the flare of annoyance in his eyes, before returning her gaze to Alec.
“Of course, thank you.”
“In private,” Alec added in that tone of his that held authority and reminded everyone around him who he was. Henry clenched his jaw but nodded.
“I have some business to attend to as it were. Miss Montgomery, I look forward to calling on you tomorrow now that you are well enough for visitors once more.” He cut his eyes to Alec, as if the statement were really for him instead of Elle. Fucking boys, she thought with an inward roll of her eyes.
She barely stopped herself from shooting off a sarcastic “can’t wait!” with two obnoxious thumbs up. Instead, she merely inclined her head and allowed Alec to lead her to a stone bench just off the path.
“My ankle is fine. Really.”
“I have no doubts,” Alec said, leaning down to examine her foot. Again, the brush of his fingers over her ankle made her stomach flutter. This is getting ridiculous. “But I do so love thwarting Astley.” He glanced up and gave her a rakish smile. She huffed out a laugh and he released her foot, smoothing her skirt back down her leg. “I don’t suppose you’d like to assist me in making him truly peevish by walking with me?”
“I would love nothing more,” Elle said with a grin, taking his hand and rising from the bench. She found it was actually quite easy to like Alec once he decided he could let a bit of the mask fall away. They walked, though Elle was limping a bit, catching attention from far too many people. Elle sighed. “I can already hear the gossip spreading like wildfire.”
“What gossip is that?” Alec asked as they approached the same small bridge where they’d stood during her first promenade. That time she’d wanted nothing more than to shove him over the edge and into the water. Her lips quirked. Ok, so that would still be funny, but now she didn’t want to cause him bodily harm in the process. Well, not much anyway.
“The gossip that you’re courting me.”
He leaned against the stone, eyes raking over the lawn, taking in all of the people covertly glancing their way—and the ones who were openly staring, like Matilda Wilshire. He turned his gaze back to Elle and there was a calculating look in his eyes.
“And what if it were more than mere gossip?”
Elle blinked. Would it be so bad to be courted by Alec? The Alec she’d seen over the last week, the one who had told her about Colette? The one who had laughed and blushed in the drawing room? The one who had been so gentle and kind with her injured ankle? To her surprise, the answer was no, it really wouldn’t be. But it wouldn’t be right to allow him to court her without knowing the truth—well, part of the truth, anyway.
“Al—Lord Kentworth,” she caught herself. “I owe you the truth.”
“By all means,” he said, gesturing for her to continue, looking amused and intrigued.
“I do not plan to accept any proposal of marriage that may come from this season. I only agreed to participate at all because if I hadn’t, it would have negatively affected Rose. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I let you spend your time with me, when it could be spent courting someone who might actually marry you.” His lips quirked, as if this news made him happy. Elle was…confused.
“Can I be honest with you as well?” Elle nodded, not really sure where this might be going. He leaned a bit closer to her and whispered almost conspiratorially, “I have no intention of offering a marriage proposal to anyone. I am only here because my father asked me to be. I do not plan to actually find a bride at the end of all of this, but I must play a part, just as you have agreed to do.”
Elle blinked in surprise. “Oh. Oh, well, that’s—”
“I have a proposal for you, however. Not of marriage,” he added when she cocked her head and gave him a narrowed look. “You have no desire to have anyone else courting you for the next few months, is that correct?”
“Correct.” She shuddered at the thought of having to spend another day with Henry Astley.
“And I have no desire to feign a courtship with any of these other ladies. It would not be gentlemanly of me to lie to them, to give them false hope and keep them from other potential, true suitors. But it would be expected of me to call on at least some of them during the season…”
“So…we help each other,” Elle said, figuring out where this was going.
“If I make it clear that I have my eye set on you, every other man will accept that and move on to other prospects. That will save you from having to deal with any of them.”
“And you won’t have to pretend to be interested in any of the other women—or waste their time, either.”
“Just so,” he said with a nod. Elle rolled it over in her head. She had to admit, it was actually an attractive offer. She eyed him critically.
“You know this would mean that you’d still have to spend time with me? Lots of time, if we’re going to be believed.” Alec’s face turned solemn, and he put his hand over his heart.
“It is a grave duty, but I am willing to undertake it, yes.” Elle laughed, lips curling into a smile before she could stop them. He smiled back, a hint of the genuine smile she’d glimpsed only once or twice.
“Alright.”
“Alright?” he echoed, eyes wide.
“Yes, let’s do it.”
“You know you’ll have to appear as though you actually enjoy my company.”
“I shall do my best to hide my suffering.” Now he chuckled.
“This will be great fun, I have no doubt.”
Well, hell. Maybe it could be.
***
And so, they started their official courtship, much to the dismay of every other single man and woman in the Ton, apparently. Jocelyn said that the other ladies were sick with jealousy and that many of the men wished they could fight Alec, but of course, they couldn’t. Technically, the men could still come to call—there wasn’t a dibs situation in play or anything—but they all just knew that if Alec were in the game, they wouldn’t win, so why waste their time and energy. If Elle were actually looking for a husband, of course Alec would be the logical choice.
Henry was the only one who didn’t let up, still coming to call, though not as often, and still asking her to dance at every ball and still watching her from across the room at every other event. It was an obvious pissing match between the two men and somehow Elle had become the judge. But overall, the plan was working perfectly, so Elle could handle dealing with Henry.
Being around Alec was nice, actually. He was still a bit haughty of course, but he was also charming and funny, someone she could actually be friends with.
She found herself wishing she could tell him more about her life. Her real life, not the half-truths or flat out lies they’d concocted. But even so, she began to find in him a sort of friendship, someone she could let her guard down with, at least a bit. Since she wasn’t worried about him thinking badly of her if her etiquette wasn’t perfect, she was able to relax. He, too, seemed to be a bit more lax on all the formalities and manners, and she was glad for it.
“So, we’re really going to a boxing match?” Elle asked, excited for the outing. Everything had been a bit repetitive thus far: sit and talk in the drawing room, walk through the park, have tea or dinner, go to a dance or a play or the ballet—over and over and over.
“We are,” Jocy said as they exited the carriage.
“And this is something ladies do?” Elle asked, a skeptical brow arched.
“Yes, they do…though many are a bit squeamish of the blood,” she added thoughtfully.
Alec was waiting for them and gestured towards a row of seats in the front, shaking hands with Callum as he passed. Rose seemed enthralled with the large space, taking it all in with wide eyes, shining with interest. The building was constructed like a small stadium, with each row sitting slightly higher than the one in front of it, high ceilings with skylights letting in bright sunlight, and a ring in the middle of it all. Rose waved Percy over and soon everyone was seated in a neat row, Elle tucked in between Jocy and Alec.
“Have you ever been to a boxing match?” he asked her. She bit her lip. Oh to see his face if she tried to explain that she’d been a ring girl at a handful of UFC fights in her day, walking around in a barely-there bikini and six-inch heels, and carrying a big numbered sign.
“A time or two,” she said instead with a sly grin, and he seemed intrigued.
“Well, I’ve got my money on Tristan there in the black trousers.”
He pointed to a shirtless man with light brown skin, black hair, and muscles for days. Elle’s eyes widened appreciatively as she took him in. She’d never thought of men in this time as being ripped, but Tristan certainly was.
Alec leaned in close and said in a low voice, “Now, now, Miss Montgomery. It is rather unladylike to stare…”
“Not when he looks like that,” she breathed out, not taking her eyes off of Tristan. “I’m quite sure it would be far more unladylike not to stare. A proper lady should appreciate artwork, after all…” She felt Alec laugh beside her.
Tristan was lean and cut, and in the twenty-first century, he probably would have been a middleweight division fighter, not a heavyweight like his opponent obviously would be. The other man was older, with a thick white beard and a scar running down the left side of his pale torso. He wasn’t fat, but he was more thickly muscled than Tristan, built like a barrel. Tristan would be faster, but the other guy sure would pack a punch.
They waited for the match to begin and she could hear Callum and Percy explaining a bit about boxing to Rosie. Elle began tapping her feet in a bored rhythm, but soon it transformed into something else. Her lips curled as she stomped twice before tapping her hand on her knee once. Over and over. Stomp, stomp, tap. Stomp, stomp, tap.
Jocy turned to look at her, smiling and fighting laughter. To Elle’s delight, Jocy joined her, and soon they were both humming We Will Rock You. Alec tilted his head at them, and she and Jocelyn broke off into quiet peals of laughter.
“I don’t think I’ll ever properly understand women,” he muttered under his breath, making Elle and Jocy laugh even harder.
The match finally began and it was thrilling. The crowd roared and cheered, Callum bellowing what Elle was ninety-percent sure were curses and insults in Gaelic with the way Jocy looked both amused and scandalized. Elle had been right: Tristan was indeed faster than the other man, quick and sure on his feet, but The Bearded Wonder was much stronger and seemed to know a bit more about fighting. Tristan lasted for a while before his speed wasn’t enough and he began taking too many hits.
Alec winced as a particularly brutal blow caught Tristan in the jaw, but Elle’s eyes lit up. She placed a hand on Alec’s thigh without thinking and his entire body tensed. Oh, right. No touchy between boys and girls. She quickly pulled it back, but leaned towards him so he could hear her over the crowd.
“The bearded guy,”
“Portsmouth,” he supplied.
“Portsmouth. He telegraphs his punches.” He turned to stare at her, brow furrowed. “Just trust me. Tell Tristan to watch Portsmouth’s right shoulder. He nudges it right before an uppercut every time. He can dodge and catch Portsmouth off guard and off balance.” Not only had Elle been a ring girl, she’d dated a fighter semi-seriously for a few months before she’d met Ashton. She’d studied footage of his opponents with him so he could prepare for fights by learning their strengths and weaknesses. She remembered a thing or two.
Alec looked somewhere between impressed and suspicious, but nodded and made his way to the edge of the ring where Tristan was getting water during the short break. He spoke low to the man, who nodded and looked confident and determined.
Alec settled back in beside her, perhaps a little closer than before, their arms brushing. The fighters circled each other again, and Elle held her breath when Portsmouth’s shoulder nudged. Alec tensed. Tristan dodged the uppercut and landed a few quick, punishing blows to Portsmouth’s kidneys. The bigger man doubled over, and Tristan went to town on his face, his head snapping back with each punch like a rag doll. The crowd went wild, cheering and erupting in screams and applause when Tristan landed the final knockout punch.
Alec turned to stare at a grinning Elle, mouth open in astonishment.
She wiggled her eye brows. “Do I get a cut of your winnings, then?”
“You are truly the most intriguing creature, Miss Montgomery.”
She smiled, taking it as a compliment.