Chapter 11 #2
“I suppose you are right.” Tristan skipped away a few steps, rolling his shoulders and aiming a few loose blows into the air. “So long as Madeline is safe and the baby is healthy, I will ask for nothing more, ever, in my life.”
“A dangerous promise to make. Now, are we sparring or not?”
“Just a moment,” Tristan laughed. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. You plan to get straight to sparring, and not bother with a single detail about your life? It’s not as though you and I can sit in the clubhouse and take tea.”
Stephen bit the inside of his cheek. If he wished to keep his anonymity, there was no way he could openly consort with the other leading club members, lest they speculate about who he might be.
Tristan, of course, was a Devil. They ought not to be friends at all, being from rival clubs. Stephen thought it ridiculous, and so did Tristan.
That would put an end to the foolish rivalry between our clubs, he thought, biting back a smile. Orion himself meeting with one of the Devils’ leading members for tea and cake.
“You don’t know that,” Stephen countered. “I might invite you to my house for supper.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say no. Madeline is keen to meet you properly.
She does not know who you are,” Tristan added hastily.
“Although if she were to question me about it, I’m not sure I could lie to her.
You’re not married, so of course I don’t expect you to understand, but it’s not the done thing, you know. ”
“I don’t believe that one has to be married to understand that lying to one’s other half is not recommended,” Stephen responded sardonically.
He stepped into the ring, shaking out his arms and shoulders. The familiar looseness spread through his body, his limbs falling into an easy boxing stance.
This was not going to be a vicious match, of course. Not like the underground matches he’d fought, with money at stake and his pride nailed to the wall. No, this was more of a friendly match than anything else.
Just as he formulated that thought, Tristan’s gloved fist whistled past his temple, making him flinch.
“Wake up, old man,” Tristan taunted, baring his teeth in a white, vulpine grin. “Or I’ll wake you up myself.”
“Oh, I see. It’s like that, isn’t it?” Stephen shot back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his gloves.
The men danced to and fro, seconds stretching into what seemed like hours. Stephen landed a powerful blow to Tristan’s side, only to have his ears boxed the next minute. Sweat poured down their bodies, their skin steaming in the cool air.
After a handful of minutes—time always dragged on when they boxed—they drew apart, panting and sweating.
“You’re getting old,” Tristan remarked.
“No, I think you are,” Stephen laughed. “I can’t be long. I’m having supper with my grandmother tonight.”
Tristan frowned. “So you really won’t have time to spend with me today.”
Without needing to discuss it, both men unlaced their gloves, letting them drop, and stepped out of the ring. A table was set out a little way off, with jugs of water and cups waiting.
“You might see me more than you expect,” Stephen said, draining a cup of water and immediately pouring himself a second.
Tristan’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
Stephen let out a long sigh, steeling himself. “I have been considering rejoining Society. We shall move back to Redcliffe Manor in the next couple of days.”
Tristan paused, his cup half-raised to his lips. “You truly mean it?” he said at last. “The Duke of Redcliffe will reveal himself at last? Orion’s identity will be made known?”
“One thing at a time, but perhaps.”
Tristan let out a long breath. “I must say, Stephen, this is surprising news. I thought you’d stay hidden for the rest of your life.
People still talk about the death of the Duke of Redcliffe and the disappearance of his son.
They assume there’s something wrong with the estate, or some legal business, which has prevented them from finding the next heir, and I always keep my mouth shut…
but you really mean to come back? After all this time? ”
Stephen nodded tightly. “It is what I intend to do. You’re my friend, so I am telling you now, but you ought to know that I want it kept secret for now. I want to break the news myself.”
“Well, of course, of course! But this is excellent news! We can be friends openly, you and I. You can meet Madeline properly, meet our children…” Tristan trailed off, grinning widely, and shook his head. “You’re making the right choice.”
“Well, I’ll do what I must to have more chances to beat you in the ring.”
Tristan snorted. “Good luck with that. I must say, you’re exceptionally distracted today. I boxed your ears twice. You were once my favorite opponent, and today you’re so distracted that it’s simply no fun to beat you.”
Stephen gave a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it. This won’t last.”
“You admit it, then. You are distracted.”
“Every man has an off-day, surely?”
Tristan narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. “What distraction is weighing on your mind, then? You can tell me.”
Stephen swallowed, suddenly back in the cool, moonlit water, watching Amelia dart through the undergrowth. His mouth was dry where it had not been before, and he took a long sip of his water.
“I caught unexpected prey,” he responded at last.
Wisely, Tristan did not question him further.