Page 45 of The Undaunted
“He’ll do fine, if the bettin’ on him means anything. The footmen say he’s got a threefold advantage—his size, his skill, and his temper.”
“His temper?” Caroline asked. “Certainly, Lord Bertridge can be…prickly. But I do not see how being irritable will help him.”
“He can be more than prickly and irritable, though he is that,” Bemmy said. “Bramley didn’t like it one bit but Charlie told us of how he watched the lord’s temper erupt a few years ago and it was something to behold. Charlie reckons if somebody hits the lord in the face that temper will come bustin’ out again.”
Caroline’s thoughts were in a bit of a whirl. Buttoned up Bertie had a temper? Was that the wild heart underneath that she’d sensed all along? Is that what he was always covering up?
“What happened, Bemmy? What did Charlie see?”
Bemmy leaned close and confidential. “It seems that one day, there was a ruckus out on the street at Portland Place. A hackney driver was beatin’ his horse something terrible, but the poor half-starved thing wouldn’t move an inch. The poor creatures give up sometimes, you know. Well, Charlie said the man was so enraged he was set to beatin’ the unfortunate animal to death. Lord Bertridge heard the goings on, comes out of his house to see what’s unfolding, and takes steps.”
“Steps?” Caroline said softly.
“Steps,” Bemmy said nodding gleefully. “He takes the whip from the driver and throws it into the bushes, then he pummels the driver ’til he’s nearly insensible, then he unhitches the horse and leads him to his own stables. As he’s goin’ he tells that driver if he sees him again he’ll beat him some more. Charlie said the horse went willin’ enough, as if he knowed it was his one chance of life. ’Parently, the horse is right as rain now and retired to the lord’s estate, gets plenty of oats and is named Icarus, as he rose from the dead.”
Caroline felt tears spring to her eyes as she thought of the poor horse. They were sensitive animals and could not hold out against cruelty forever. Beating the man and taking the horse was precisely what her father would have done for the creature. But Lord Bertridge? It was rather hard to imagine. But it must be true, nobody would make up such a story.
Of course it was true. Had she not seen how indulgent the lord was with his dog Edgar? If only he could be so indulgent with people! Or at least, if not all people, then with her. That would be something indeed.
Her attention was pulled as Bemmy grasped her arm and shook it. “It’s getting ready to start, there’s the Prince with Mr. Jackson.”
*
Richard heard ahorn blow and cheers erupt from the crowd. That was the signal that the first pair of boxers were to come out and take the ring. Richard did not mind being the first pair off, other than he’d have to stand there doing nothing while the Prince made some sort of speech.
Kingston picked up his bottle of water, as his actual bottle man by way of Lord Easton was nowhere to be found. It was no matter, he’d not require a drink for this match—he fully intended to be done with Landon in less than a quarter of an hour. Then, the scoundrel could slink off with his ears ringing and head pounding and decide what to do about the scullery maid who was to make him a father sometime in the near future.
He could at least be grateful that his aunt had put her foot down and Miss Upton would no longer visit the sort of places where Landon could be found. He had found Landon distasteful from the start, but he now knew him to be dangerous.
Landon exited his tent with his man Bakewell, and Richard could not help but notice he looked rather peaked. In truth, they both looked peaked. If Richard had to guess, Bakewell did not carry high hopes that his master would find success in the ring, and Bakewell would be right. The only prize Landon would win this day was a scullery maid named Annie.
Richard strode ahead, his untucked shirt flapping in the breeze. He must soon take it off, which he thought unseemly in front of such a crowd, but there was nothing for it.
He reached the ring and took his corner as the Prince said, “Welcome one and all to what is our first boxing exhibition in the charming town of Brighton.”
Cheers went up and Richard thought the townspeople were flattered by the description.
The Prince went on to note that the proceeds from all the food and drink sold in the royal stalls would go to the poor mothers and childrens’ fund.
Richard glanced at Landon to see how he would react to the mention of poor mothers and children now that the scullery maid carrying his own child had arrived to town.
Landon was very pale, though Richard could not determine if Annie’s arrival was the cause, or a late night doused with gin. Perhaps it was both.
The Prince droned on for some minutes, but finally concluded and sat heavily in his chair. Mr. Jackson came down to the ring and reminded them of the rules. There were to be up to thirteen rounds, unless a boxer reaches seven wins beforehand. Broughton’s Rules were in effect, no hitting below the belt, grasping hair and so on. They were to meet at the mark and begin on the horn.
Richard noticed Lord Easton finally arriving and standing by Kingston, looking pleased as punch to be in the ring. He did not suppose his uncle would be of any real use, but he was not opposed to finding him there.
The last instruction from Mr. Jackson was that it was thirty seconds firm to get back to your side after having been knocked down and that knee men and bottle men were not to exchange words with the opponent’s men.
Kingston helped him remove his shirt to the apparent delight of the crowd. One particularly crass female shouted, “Take your shirt off in my rooms any day, m’lord.” It was a disgrace and Richard forced his ears to shut against the shouting.
Landon looked a deal more amused by the lewd comments being called out. The crowd would shortly see how long that miscreantstayedamused.
Richard strode to the mark and raised his fists. Landon met him there, the horn was blown, and the fight began.
Chapter Twelve
Caroline peered outthe window of the inn and gripped Bemmy’s arm. She had not known the schedule of the fights, nor that Lord Bertridge would match up against Mr. Landon first.
