He tried to look over various papers, but his mind was preoccupied with the fact Georgiana would doubtless be attending the majority of the social events of the season. That meant he would probably see her again tonight. With her husband.
Unable to stand the thoughts any longer, he practically bolted from his desk and called for a servant to get a horse saddled for him. Where he planned to go, he had no idea, though the wish that he might ride all the way to France crossed his mind.
Instead, he turned his horse towards town. Though he was wandering aimlessly, he moved with enough speed, everyone he passed assumed he was on an important errand and left him alone, for which he was grateful.
Surprisingly, he found himself on the same street as Huxley’s at around the time he knew his horse needed to go at a slower pace if he had any intention of riding it home. Instead of going there, he decided to take look at the boxing establishment Henry had told him about.
He went inside Jackson’s. One of the first people he saw across the room was Henry, which made him relaxed a little.
“Henry,” he called out as he walked in his direction.
His friend apparently didn’t hear him, being too focused on punching one of the boxing bags for all it was worth. Walter tipped his head to a couple of men he recognized as he passed and called again, “Henry!”
Still getting no reply, Walter walked even closer. When he was within three feet of his friend, he tried again. “Henry!”
With a sudden start, Henry swung round in surprise with a fist flying. Walter was able to quickly step back to dodge the blow, then he chuckled at the reaction he had received.
“What are you doing startling me like that? Doesn’t common sense tell you that in a place like this you don’t just go up behind a man and shout out his name?”
“I tried calling you from further away without effect, believe me,” Walter replied, amused at the rare sight of seeing Henry flustered. “So, may I ask what you were thinking about that consumed so much of your attention? I somehow don’t think all that focus was solely on the bag.”
Henry sighed and motioned for them to take a seat on the edge of one of the rings. “I have been trying to make arrangements for a trip—to the West Indies, this time. But, well … part of the arrangements fell through, and now I may well have to start all over again. Anyway, I guess you could say I was taking my frustrations out on the bag.”
“It certainly looked like that way,” he replied, as he tried to find their usual levity.
Henry must have heard something in his voice, however, and looked searchingly at his friend. “Hm … it seems to me you have something on your mind too, my friend, if I am not mistaken.”
Walter rubbed the back of his neck, wanting to deny it and yet not at the same time. “Perhaps. Just a small nuisance.”
“Ha! A small one? Somehow, I don’t believe it. But you don’t need to say a word. Why don’t you try getting out some of your own frustrations on that bag? Trust me, it’ll help.”
Walter looked incredulous but got up and walked over to stand in front of the bag, where Henry had been moments before. Having literally no idea what he was doing, he tried to recall how Henry had been standing and to imitate it the stance.
“Ah, come now, lad, that must have been the weakest punch that bag has ever felt. Try harder. You aren’t going to hurt it.”
Walter obligingly punched with more force this time, using nearly all his strength. One glance at his friend, however, revealed the latter was far from impressed.
“That’s … better. But you seem to be missing the whole point. Here,” Henry walked over and corrected his stance a little. “Now, try again, but instead of hitting the bag, I want you to think about something else entirely. I want you to picture in your head whatever is bothering you and pretend it is this bag right here, and then take a swing at it.”
Walter took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to pinpoint what exactly was bothering him. He could never imagine hurting Georgiana, no matter how much she was to blame, but he found picturing Rowley in his mind