them. Do you remember the night we met her, James? That night we got in a bit of trouble with those thugs after Elspeth? She cleaned our cuts up and fed us? From that night on, I couldn’t get her off my mind. I’d try and concentrate on what the boss was saying or if you were getting your ass handed to you in the ring, and still all I could think about was her.” He turned to look at James. “It will be like that for you too. Just wait.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to deny what MacAvoy said, that someday he’d be hard-pressed to think straight because of a woman. But he didn’t. He didn’t admit to himself that Lucinda Vermeal’s face flashed in his mind at the oddest moments. If he did, it would confirm his fear that he was in danger of becoming obsessed with the woman. But he’d never be interested in a snob like her, thinking herself so much better than anyone else. Better than him, was what he meant. It grated on him, her superior attitude toward him. He’d like to take her down a peg or two, but every time he thought that, he could only see himself looming over her, holding both of those delicate wrists of hers in one hand and capturing her mouth with his.
James looked up when he heard MacAvoy open the door.
“See you on Friday. Beat the tar out of Crankshaw. I need my share of the prize money.”
James was sitting on a high padded bench, his breathing still rapid and shallow, naked other than his short drawers, a length of toweling around his neck soaking up the sweat running out of his hair, while MacAvoy looked at the cut above his eye.
“Don’t think we’re going to have to wake Aunt Murdoch,” he said just as the door to his dressing room opened and Payden and Robert came flying in.
“Slow down, you two,” Alexander said from behind them. “Give the man some room to breathe.”
They’d attended tonight’s match with Alexander, his father, and the man James met at the Pendergast party, John Williams. James smiled, took another drink of the water MacAvoy had handed him, and rinsed his mouth, spitting the blood into a bucket. Payden was shadow boxing in the light of the lamp MacAvoy was holding to examine James’s face.
“You’re going to have a blackened eye, though. What will all the women say when they see you?”
Alexander’s father, Andrew Pendergast, laughed. “I imagine the ladies will think that only adds to his attraction. Congratulations. Another commanding bout.”
“It was something to see,” John Williams said and shook his head. “I never saw a man move his hands as fast as you did. Thank you for the ticket.”
James glanced at him. “I hope you placed a bet.”
“I did.” Williams smiled.
“You smell, James,” Payden said.
The men laughed, and Alexander ruffled Payden’s hair. “Come on, boys. I promised I’d have you both home as soon as the match was over.”
“Tell Muireall I won’t be long and that I won’t be needing Aunt Murdoch to stitch me up. I want a long soak in a tub and my bed.”
“You should be glad you don’t need any stitches,” Alexander said. “Aunt isn’t the gentlest of women with an injured man.”
James laughed, making him hold his side where Crankshaw had gotten in one of his best punches. “There’s no tender mercies from Aunt Murdoch, that be certain.”
“I’ve been there when she’s stitched him. Instead of trying to make a man forget that she’s drawing thread through his skin, she talks about her needle likes she’s tatting a pillow. Makes me near sick to my stomach,” MacAvoy said.
“I heard congratulations are in order, MacAvoy,” Andrew said. “Mrs. Emory is a lovely woman, worthy of a chance to start over.”
“Elspeth and I have a suggestion for your living arrangements,” Alexander said. “Stop and see me the next time you are visiting.”
“I will, sir,” MacAvoy said. “And thank you, Mr. Pendergast. I mean to make her a good husband, and I hope my work at the mill has been up to your expectations.”
Alexander’s father slapped MacAvoy on the back. “You’re doing fine, son. We’ve got plans for you in a few years. Just keep at your work the way you’ve been doing.”
“Did you hear that, James? Mr. Pendergast has plans for me,” MacAvoy said when the men had corralled the boys and left the changing room.
“You’re deserving of it, brother.” James pulled