Chapter 14
fourteen
Tristan lay on the dirty floor of The Octagon after his opponent had punched his stomach hard enough to make him nauseous.
Pain throbbed through his body—a war drum symphony that meant peace to him. Around him, a dozen dirty fights were ongoing. Heavy feet stomped dangerously close to his head, but he didn’t care.
When he reached that ecstatic state of calm, he didn’t care about anything. He didn’t care about George warning him to stop fighting, Winchester shunning him, Harris’s hurt looks, or the avalanche of emotions Effie woke up within him, including shame.
He blinked, and the lights came in and out of focus. Shadows ran over him, and he wished to be one of them. He wished to join the darkness and be done with.
He’d tried to kiss Effie, and she’d put him in his place with a few words. One word, actually.
He deserved her rejection because, even though he wasn’t as refined and sophisticated as his late mother would have liked him to be, he was aware a gentleman shouldn’t put a lady in a compromising situation, and he’d done that more than once.
Especially if the said gentleman hadn’t acted on attraction only.
Effie was beautiful, but he’d met plenty of beautiful women, and not one of them had made him lose his mind and control as she had.
She was special but not because of her hazel eyes changing colour, her bright smile, or her glorious chestnut hair.
Her kindness made her special. Her kindness towards him in particular.
She had no reason to be kind to him. Hell, he wasn’t kind to himself. But she was kind to him, and he didn’t understand why.
He shut his eyes as a man dropped next to him, brushing his shoulder. Shouts and thuds filled the stuffy air of the ring, but he was at peace.
He made a decision. Then and there, on the bloody floor of The Octagon, with his muscles screaming in agony, and his mind clear and free.
He’d decided to marry Lady Effie.
Effie gently held the tiny paw of Turi, Jane’s Pomeranian, as she bandaged it. The small dog was a perfect patient. He remained still, didn’t try to bite her, and let her apply creams and bandages to his paw without crying blue murder. His mistress, on the other hand, had a flair for the dramatics.
“Is it serious?” Jane paced on the carpet in her sitting room, only to stop to caress Turi’s head and start pacing again.
Her silk skirt flapped around her legs, distracting the dog.
Effie suppressed a laugh. She understood the deep bond between a human and an animal, and she wouldn’t make fun of that. But Turi only had a scratch on his metacarpal pad. Hardly deadly.
Everything that happened to the Pomeranian was a cause of worry. Turi was one of her regular patients.
“The cut isn’t deep, and while infections are a problem, I think Turi’s paw will recover soon. As long as he doesn’t lick it too much and keeps the bandage on.”
“Thank goodness.” Jane sat on the sofa, the back of her hand on her forehead. “When he started limping during his morning walk, I thought the worst.”
“Just make sure he doesn’t lick the wound. I could wrap a towel around his head to prevent him from reaching his paw, but if he doesn’t bother the paw, I would prefer leaving him free.”
“Thank you so much, Effie. You’re a godsend. My physician would never take a look at my Turi. He said something about a superior calling. And it seems veterinary doctors all live in the country, dealing with cows and pigs.”
“I know. I started practising on farm animals, too.” She packed her bag with gauze and disinfectants.
Jane hugged her. “I’ll always be in your debt. How can I repay your kindness?”
“Do not worry. Besides, I don’t have any official qualifications.”
Jane waved an elegant hand. “Tosh. I don’t care about that. You saved Turi’s life.”
That was an exaggeration that Jane repeated every time Turi had a minor illness.
“I’ll check on him tomorrow.” She closed her bag.
Making an animal and a person happy was her favourite thing in the world.
Turi licked her hand and wiggled his tail weakly. Likely, he wasn’t sure if she’d done him a good turn or not.
“I feel terrible for not giving you anything,” Jane said.
“Don’t, please.”
“But I want to return the favour.” Jane winked. “I’m sure you’ll be interested in a juicy piece of gossip.”
“I don’t follow gossip.”
Jane gave her a conspiratorial look. “I happen to know something about your Lord Montcrest.”
She moved the bag from one hand to another. “He isn’t my anything.”
Jane lowered her voice. “I saw how you looked at each other as you danced together. Be warned. Everyone did.”
Effie’s cheeks warmed. That wasn’t completely untrue. “I haven’t made up my mind about him.”
Jane sat on an armchair and placed Turi on her lap.
Effie sat down as well and dropped her bag.
“My husband isn’t fond of Montcrest. The late marquess was a harsh businessman.”
“I keep hearing that, but what did he do?”
“I’m no expert in economics, but the late marquess was uncompromising for starters.
When he wanted something, he never negotiated with anyone, but went after it with a vengeance, ruining many friendships.
He pushed his workers to the limit, not caring about the consequences.
He reduced the quality of his steel to sell more, and if he could find a legal loophole, he would exploit it aggressively.
He was an expert in price wars. He would decrease the price of his product when everyone was increasing it, going against the market, and he wasn’t above using trade secret thievery to get what he wanted.
During the years he worked hard to rebuild his family, he made a lot of enemies. ”
“But is Lord Montcrest the same?”
Jane caressed Turi who fell asleep with his muzzle between his paws. “Everyone assumes he is. They worked together since Lord Montcrest was able to walk, so he must have learnt from his father.”
“He is certainly a determined man.” Menacing as well.
“People either envy him or are sour because Montcrest is doubling his fortune by the minute. His railway company is the most successful in the kingdom. The queen praised him. But people say Montcrest exploits his workers, as his father did.”
She mulled the information over. Perhaps she was too gullible.
The fact Tristan loved horses didn’t mean he was a good person, and if he exploited his workers only for greed, then Papa might be right about him.
Although she hadn’t imagined his sweet, vulnerable side.
He wasn’t as harsh as people thought. He was trying to build a better future for the people living in that small town. A ruthless businessman wouldn’t care.
“But that’s not what I wanted to tell you.” Jane leant closer. “Rumour has it he has a mistress, a powerful, famous lady, likely married, who helps him get what he wants.”
Why was she surprised? He was titled, rich, and handsome and unmarried. A pang of disappointment stung her chest. Did he stare at every woman as he’d stared at her? How many women felt as special as she felt only because he seemed to adore her?
“A married lady?” she asked.
“She probably is.” Jane nodded. “Apparently, Montcrest leaves his house at night often and heads towards Chelsea alone, on foot.”
“Chelsea? What does he do there?”
“At its edge, the Duchess of Norfolk has a flat she also visits often. Maybe it’s a coincidence. Maybe it isn’t.”
The Duchess of Norfolk was practically royalty. If there was one powerful lady in the kingdom after the queen, it was her.
“That would explain his success in his business as well.” Jane kept stroking Turi. “The duchess is likely pulling strings for him.”
“If that’s true, then Lord Montcrest isn’t different from his father.”
Jane exhaled as Turi snored softly. “Alas, the more good-looking they are, the more deceitful. Except dogs, of course.”
Except dogs.