Chapter 17 #2
Around the ring they walked as the two contestants moved to the middle.
They were so close, Isabel couldn’t help but wonder if they might fall out and continue the fight elsewhere.
But then she reminded herself of her husband, noting his height.
The man was towering and protective––he kept walking on the side of her that kept her from danger. She would always be safe.
The far corner had a pillar taking up half the view, which was why no one sat there. But it offered a semblance of privacy and quiet. Isabel settled with her tea to watch the match, wondering what it would be like for someone to enjoy beating one another.
“It is a game to them,” she realized.
“Of sorts.” Sebastian exhaled heavily. When she noted the way his knees turned closer toward her, she shifted as well toward him.
There was that brooding gaze of his. Those green eyes were bright this morning, standing out from his unruly dark hair.
He spoke low as he went on, “It is a way of fighting not just someone else, but for oneself.”
“What do you mean?” Isabel bit her lip immediately, wishing she hadn’t said anything, worrying it would silence him.
By some miracle, it didn’t. “I started boxing in my youth for another way to make some coin. Finally, I could get paid for what I was good at. Boxing was helpful. It always reminded of survival, how much we must fight the world every day just to live.”
“I never thought of it like that before,” she whispered. “I don’t like the idea of fighting the world. Do you think it so dark and cruel?”
“It can be. We both know this. But…” his gaze left hers to turn toward the ring.
The sigh he gave her told her volumes. “Boxing made it brighter, my days past. In the ring, you see, there is only the moment. There is no title, no land, no weight of duty. There is only strength. Only truth. It is the one place I am only myself.”
A silent shuddering breath rippled through Isabel at those words, hearing the truth of them. Hearing such vulnerability from the large man left her wishing to find a way to protect him.
For once, he does not speak like a bitter or stern man. He isn’t hiding in the shadows away from me. Perhaps this is his way of making amends, of offering me part of himself. I thought I would be satisfied with an apology. But this… This almost feels like too much to offer.
She swore to herself right then how respectful she would be toward boxing for him. That she would do her best to learn and to care and to understand. If this helped him feel alive, then it had to be worthy.
“Thank you––” she started just as someone called out.
“Vale!”
While Isabel had been staring at her husband, studying her emotions, the boxing match had come to an end. One contestant was helping clean up blood off the ground while the other was moving toward them. She paused and watched as Sebastian rose to his feet to meet the stranger.
The lank white yellow hair on the man was long and matted against his skull with sweat. But he offered a lopsided wicked grin. She noted a few minor scars on his face that had years to have healed. There was a new bruise forming on the left-side of his jaw, but otherwise he hardly looked touched.
“Dukey boy, excellent timing. Well done bringing the wife to one of my matches. I always win,” he tossed out cheerfully to her before focusing on Sebastian.
The man spoke with a heavy tilted accent that proved him a commoner, and yet he clasped a friendly hand on her husband like they were family.
“Does this mean you shall be here for the holidays?”
“Only today,” Sebastian said with a shake of his head.
His friend made a face with a wrinkled nose before turning to Isabel, who made her way to her feet. “Pardon my manners, m’lady. ‘T’s not ever’day I meet meself a duchess. What a pleasure! Call me Marcus.”
Offering her hand, Isabel stifled a short chuckle when he planted a wet kiss on her knuckles. The moisture wouldn’t sink through the leather, but she noted the shine as she told him, “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Marcus.”
That garnered a laugh. “Mr. Marcus! That’s a gaff. A good one, Vale, she must be very good. Did you see that upper swing of mine?”
“I believe you’re growing slower in your old age,” Sebastian said with a nod.
“Slower!” Marcus said in outrage. He harrumphed before grabbing for the duke in a move that appeared dangerous. Gasping, Isabel stumbled back just in time to watch Sebastian elbow the man hard enough to push Marcus down and catch him in a headlock. “Gor!”
“Not in front of the lady,” Sebastian pointed out sternly. He didn’t even look irritated, nor stressed. “Apologize.”
Marcus mumbled a few words before awkwardly trying to look up at her. With his head caught down in Sebastian’s arms at waist level, he couldn’t be comfortable. Isabel opened her mouth, wondering if she should excuse him of saying anything. “Beggin’ your pardon, Duchess.”
“Er, that’s all right. I do accept, I mean.” She frowned at her husband as he released the man. She was going to scold him, only for Marcus to start laughing. “Are you all right, sir?”
He waved a hand. “Sure! He’s a good one, Vale. And you don’t need to worry, see, he’s a strong fellow.”
“Oh, I wasn’t worried for him,” she said. “I was worried for you. I would rather not have to hit anyone over the head if I can help it.”
That made Marcus laugh, throwing his head back in a such a loud rumble that several men paused to watch for a moment. “Oy! You are a good one indeed. Very good, Vale. Perhaps she can make your rough corners shine, eh?”
“Not in the gymnasium,” Sebastian said. “I only wished for her to understand a part of my past. We’re only here in London today for this visit.”
“I’ll take what I can get, ‘spose. Had a question for you about an order you put in that I don’t think makes much sense,” Marcus said before throwing them into another conversation that Isabel couldn’t follow.
But she watched them. She listened and watched, wondering how these two men had become such good friends.
The respect between them was evident in their familiar behavior and friendly jests.
She wasn’t even certain she had seen Sebastian so comfortable even with the other dukes that were also his friends.
The man preferred to hold so much of the ton at arm’s length, including herself.
And yet with Marcus, they were practically brothers.
“That will do nicely,” Marcus said with a nod as the two men came to a final decision. “Now, won’t you enjoy another match or two before you leave?”
“It is a long ride back to Eastwynd,” Sebastian pointed out. “We should be on our way. The carriage is too nice for these parts and will be coming around in a moment.”
Isabel dared to speak up. “You don’t wish to have a match of your own?”
The other man jumped on the opportunity. “Aye! Any of the fellows here would be glad to pair up against you today.”
Reluctant, the duke glanced between them. “I don’t think so.”
“Five rounds only,” Marcus offered.
“A short one,” Isabel added. She leaned forward. “We came all this way and it would be a shame not to have this opportunity. Besides, I should like very much to see you box.”
She carefully ignored Marcus’s grin and wink as her husband hesitated, glanced about, and grudgingly gave a short nod. “I suppose a short match would be acceptable. Three rounds.”
“You’ll only leave them hungry. Five rounds.”
“I can knock a man out in three.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. “It’s been a few years, Vale. Are you sure you still have that heavy fist?”
Feeling impulsive, Isabel said, “I bet you a whole farthing he can do it.”
Her husband turned to her with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t men place bets?”
“Half a crown,” Marcus said before he could say anything. He put out a hand and she shook it even while Sebastian tried to move between them. “Ha! A bet is a bet. Now, you have to do it, Vale.”
Sebastian immediately began grumbling about the uselessness of friends and not knowing what to do with strange wives. Decidedly ignoring that, Isabel beamed at the two men.
I might not know everything when it comes to Sebastian and boxing, but I can certainly learn. And in the meantime, I can even have some fun.