The Bareknuckle Groom - Holly Bush Page 0,42
it after tonight. I promise. But thinking about it all upsets me, and I don’t want to be upset going into this match. Jackson is good, maybe the best I’ve ever fought. I need to keep my head clear.”
“Then by all means, go let this Jackson fellow plow his fist into your nose. I have complete faith in you to acquit yourself well. Aunt Murdoch and I will stay up in case you need a stitch or three. Best of luck, James.”
She turned her attention back to her open account book, and James stood. It was time to get ready.
James laid down on the floor of the room where he’d get changed for the fight. It was cold stone and smelled musty, but he’d had Billy sweep it clean and mop it the day before. Billy was standing outside the door now with strict orders to not allow anyone inside. James closed his eyes and let his mind quiet until all he could picture was a heavy leather bag swinging on chains from the rafters. He watched the bag, moved his mind’s eye over each stitch and every imperfection in the leather, as it swung gradually left to right. His breathing slowed and his hands lay on the floor, his fingers neither stretched flat nor curled into a fist. Street sounds and noise from the arena, where workmen were setting up seating, faded away until all he heard was a distant hum.
In his head, he looked down at his hands, his fists clenched, his nails as short as he could trim them. He drew back his fist, feeling the power in his shoulder and arm and back, and moved toward its target. But then his arm dropped to his side, floating slowly down. He looked up, behind his closed eyes, looking for the heavy bag. But it was not there. There was a face instead. Lucinda Vermeal’s face looking at him with sultry eyes and parted lips, as if he had just kissed her. Or more.
He sat straight up. Eyes open wide. The damn woman had invaded his quiet time. He stood, giving up on clearing his head, and opened the box that Aunt Murdoch had sent with him, full of thin strips of linen covered in a mixture of starch and cornmeal, something he’d never bothered with before. He dampened the strips and molded them to his upper teeth, one atop the other, until he had a thick pad. He held his jaw open as long as he could, letting them dry in their shape. James pulled the linen packing out and sat down to wait until it was time to dress for his match and stuff the foul-tasting fabric back in his mouth.
Chapter 10
Aunt Louisa stepped into her room and slowly closed the door. “What are you doing, Lucinda?” she whispered.
“I’m going to watch Mr. Thompson box. I’m going to talk to him if I can.”
“You can hardly go alone, dear. There’ll be hundreds of men, drinking liquor and in high spirits. It is far too dangerous for a young woman.”
Lucinda laced up her flat-heeled boots. “I will keep to the edge of the room and mind my own business. Mrs. Pendergast said a few women attend. They like to place bets, from what I understand. I will be one of them.”
“I shall send a note to Renaldo. He will escort you. I already told him that you may be asking this of him, and he said he would take you where you wanted to go.”
“No. We will not involve Mr. Delgado. As kind as his offer is, I’ll not ask him. It will only make matters worse between him and Papa. I’ve spoken to Laurent. His cousin has a carriage for hire. This cousin will take me and wait for me for however long I am there.”
“Laurent is sure?”
“He is. He says Michael is a large fellow and would see that I am safe, would even go inside with me, if I should feel it necessary.”
“You will knock on the wall between our dressing rooms the moment you are back.”
“I will, Aunt,” she said and kissed her on the cheek. “I promise.”
Louisa grabbed her hands and held them tight. “I am so dreadfully worried about you, Lucinda. I am so concerned that I seriously considered going to your father and telling him what I suspected of your plans.”
“You must do as you think best. But I am going to him. I fear that I’ll soon be forced