floor with several books. Lucinda glanced at her aunt and Elspeth before sitting down.
“If there is any doubt in either of your minds, I did hear part of your conversation,” she said and reached for her tea on the small table beside her. “What should I know?”
“Perhaps you should tell her, Mrs. Pendergast,” Aunt said.
“Have you been introduced to Malcolm MacAvoy, Miss Vermeal?” Elspeth asked after a long moment.
“I have,” Lucinda said and thought back to the party right here in this house where she’d been stolen away during dessert and James had kissed and caressed her. “I understand that he works for your brother.”
“Not exactly. You see, MacAvoy—his name is Malcolm, but we all call him MacAvoy—
lived with us on Locust Street after his mother died, God rest her soul, and even before that he and James were together constantly. He works at my husband’s family’s textile factory on the river and is James’s cornerman, his ring man, at the boxing matches.”
“What is a cornerman?” Aunt Louisa asked.
“MacAvoy sets up the matches and watches the opponent before their match with James to study their style and see if he can identify weaknesses. At the bell during the matches, he patches up cuts on James’s face or stuffs his nose with cotton if his nose is bloodied. He keeps him focused during a match on what his strategy is,” Elspeth said.
“He gets cut during these matches?” Lucinda asked. “On his face? That’s where the scars on his face are from, aren’t they?”
Aunt’s brows were raised, and Lucinda admitted to herself she was horrified when Elspeth nodded. She’d never seen a boxing match and didn’t believe she ever wanted to.
“And people attend these matches, do they?” Aunt Louisa asked.
“Oh yes,” Elspeth said. “They are very well attended—all men, of course. That is one reason James has made so much money at it, even after giving MacAvoy his cut. Men come from far away and fill the stands to see him fight. I don’t know how it all works, but he gets some amount from the admission the men pay to attend, and then, of course, he gets the prize money if he wins, which he does. Win, that is.”
“He always wins?” Lucinda asked.
Elspeth nodded. “From his very first match when he was eighteen years old.”
“What is it that you have not told me?” she asked.
“He fired MacAvoy last week. I found out from Mrs. Emory, our housekeeper.”
“James showed me the rooms they are redoing over your carriage house for after they are married the last time we visited.”
Elspeth nodded. “Yes. That is right.”
“What did Mrs. Emory tell you?”
“She said that MacAvoy is devastated, mostly over their friendship ending, but she says he is worried that James will be reckless in the ring without him there. She said that MacAvoy said this Jackson fellow that James is set to fight is the best boxer he’s ever seen other than James. He said James has not been right for several weeks, and MacAvoy believes it is because of something my husband, Alexander, said to him.”
“Something Mr. Pendergast said?” Aunt Louisa asked.
“I know what it is.” Lucinda turned to her aunt. “The day that you helped Mrs. Pendergast’s sister with a dress for their dinner party, he and I sat in the park on a bench while he ate a sandwich from a vendor. He told me that Mr. Pendergast had proposed some kind of gymnasium or arena for matches and for him to manage it. He said these men, these investors, think he’s washed up. I told him they most likely see a winning horse and wish to bet on him.”
“He was insulted by their proposal?” Aunt asked.
“I believe he was. Deeply insulted,” Mrs. Pendergast said. “I told my husband I’d wished he’d talked to me before he talked to James about this.”
“And why is that, Mrs. Pendergast?” she asked.
“I could have suggested he approach James in a different manner. He is the emotional heart of our family, you see. Muireall is very busy running the household, seeing to our youngest brother’s education, and managing the finances that our family relies on. Kirsty and I did as we were told, but we both knew, and Payden too, that James would guard us, guide us, and always stand up for us. He’s been the father figure for all of us, even though he’s only a few years older than me.”
“How long have your parents been gone, Mrs. Pendergast?” Aunt asked.
She stared out the window