Chapter Fifteen #2
“The boy slept well, I am sure,” Alan said into the silence, evidently because Lawrence had not managed to unclench his jaw. “I am surprised to see you here again, Miss.”
Lawrence shot a glance at Alan, but it was too late, the words were said. It was easy to ignore the rules of Society when Julia was sitting beside you, her hip nudging against his own.
Lawrence’s jaw tightened. But to have her appear today, shout his name across a room, wave, drag her brother over…
The thought of her brother shifted his gaze, and Lawrence was unsurprised to see that Donald Dryden was just as unimpressed with the situation as he was. There was a coldness in his eyes that told Lawrence in no uncertain terms that this state of affairs could not continue.
“My family—my brother, I suppose I should say—does not want me to see you again.”
Lawrence repressed a smile. Yes, the man was right.
Soon, he would be revealed as the Duke of Penshaw. Perhaps then the Drydens would be singing a different tune…
“—don’t you think, Lawrence? Lawrence?”
“It appears to me the boxer has a little more on his mind than mere chatter, Julia,” said Donald smoothly, cutting across his sister’s speech. “Why doesn’t Mr….”
Lawrence glanced at Alan, who bowed his head.
“Alan—”
“Alan here will show you the ring, Jules,” Donald said, waving a hand at the roped ring in which Lawrence would be within a few hours, hoping not to bleed too much. “I’ll join you shortly.”
Well, this was a turn up for the books, thought Lawrence. The man wanted to speak to him, did he? There could be no other reason, after all, for him pushing his sister away.
Julia gave her brother a strange look, one Lawrence would have surely imitated if he was not concentrating on keeping his face as impassive as impossible.
Damn. Damn and blast it all to hell. Did he know? Was it possible Julia had told…
Lawrence glanced at Julia’s wide eyes and saw the answer there. No, she would never tell her brother what they had shared last night. If he was any judge, she would tell no one.
He gave her a brief nod encouragingly, and she beamed, unable to hide her affection.
Before Alan clearly knew what was happening, Lawrence saw with a laugh, Julia had slipped her hand into his arm and started promenading him toward the boxing ring.
“Now tell me, Mr. Oakley, I have heard tell…”
Lawrence watched them go, tried not to admire the shape of Julia walking away, and failed. That elegant sway making the fabric of her gown just hint at the curve of her bottom. Why, a woman like that could—
“Mr. Madgwick,” said Donald quietly. “A word.”
Lawrence almost sighed aloud, but he managed to restrain himself. Well, if he had been in the man’s place, he would probably have done something similar.
When he lived as the Duke of Penshaw, if he’d caught a man being so free with his sister as he was with Julia, the man would be walking with a limp. If he was walking at all.
Throwing back his shoulders and ensuring his feet were on a level footing—just in case—Lawrence waited for the man to speak.
After all, it was only proper that Julia’s brother have his chance to ascertain that all was appropriate between them. Even if it wasn’t. Then he could reassure Donald—Mr. Dryden, he should remember to be civil—that his intentions were honorable, and they could all—
“Look, I have no wish to be rude, you understand me?” Donald brought out a cigar case nonchalantly from his waistcoat pocket. He drew out a cigar. The case was placed back into his pocket. “I am sure you understand.”
Lawrence’s jaw tightened. Why, the blaggard did not even offer him a—
“I am sure you would do the same in my position,” said Julia’s brother, lighting his cigar and taking a long drag.
“It’s a pain, actually, having to talk to you about this at all, but I tried to speak to her about this yesterday, and she utterly refused to break with you.
You know Julia. Absolutely no concern for the look of the thing. ”
Lawrence smiled tightly. “Yes.”
“And I am sure there is nothing wrong with you, per se. Probably a decent chap, if I got to know you. If you were ever at the Magnolia,” said Donald airily, naming the club in London for those of middling income and even lower social status.
“But of course, we haven’t. Don’t run in the same… circles. Do we?”
His eyes flickered to the boxing ring behind Lawrence, who swallowed as he turned back to Donald Dryden. The younger man was smiling affably.
“Let’s be frank,” said Donald, as though he had not been eminently obvious already.
“You and Julia…well. You’re not of her class, are you, boy?
You’re not good enough for her. Not good enough for most ladies, I would think, which is why you’re here.
But the more you spend time with her, the more you hurt her chances of meeting a real man. A gentleman.”
It was all Lawrence could do to prevent a rather inappropriate speech from pouring from his lips.
A real—God’s teeth, if the blaggard had any idea who he was talking to!
But he didn’t, did he? Though a rising hot temper threatened to undo everything he and Alan had worked for, Lawrence managed to control it before it overflowed.
Because Donald Dryden did not see the Duke of Penshaw, one of the richest men in England, standing before him. He only saw a poor boxer with nothing to recommend him.
It was a strange situation, Lawrence knew, and one day he would make Donald pay for this.
In embarrassment only, he tried to tell himself. He would have no harm come to his future bride’s brother.
“We had you for dinner, and all that, and Mother didn’t exactly take against you,” Donald was saying. “Very good at aping the gentleman, aren’t you? But really, that is worrying within itself. You keep to your class, I say, and we’ll keep to ours.”
Lawrence allowed a crack of a smile across his face. “What you’re saying is that you would like me to keep to my class, the rank in which I was born?”
Julia’s brother snorted. Cigar smoke billowed around him. “Rank? Dear man, if you want to call it that way. Honestly, how can you look at her and believe you belong together?”
For the second time in the conversation, Lawrence looked over his shoulder. Julia was speaking animatedly to Alan, who appeared entirely charmed and was pointing at something in the boxing ring with great excitement.
Julia’s head tilted, just for a moment, and her gaze caught Lawrence’s. She smiled, her beauty lighting up. A jolt of desire and possessiveness roared through his chest.
She was his. He had taken her last night, and he would take her again, brother be damned. Not that he could say as such yet, of course…
“Now, I am asking you.” Donald spoke quietly, and Lawrence turned back to him, discovering rather to his surprise that his hands had curled into fists by his side. “Man to man.”
A flicker of irritation curled around Lawrence’s heart. “What about as a gentleman?”
He should not have spoken. A smile crept over Donald’s face that was most unpleasant to behold.
“A gentleman?” he repeated. “Why, I am a gentleman, yes. But you? You are not, and I would recommend you do not forget it. Do not forget what you are.”
It was to Lawrence’s credit—at least, so he thought—that he did not immediately reveal himself and throw off his cover which had been so poorly judged.
But of course, that was the point, wasn’t it?
No one must know who he was.
“Thank you, Mr. Dryden,” Lawrence said stiffly. “For your advice. I will not forget what I am.”