A Masquerade in the Moonlight - By Kasey Michaels Page 0,41
the servants. “It had been merely a random thought, and I’ve summarily dismissed it. My belief in your sincerity now knows no bounds. Anything else?”
Sir Ralph took a single step closer and cleared his throat. “Yes, as a matter of fact, there is something else. It concerns Miss Balfour. Stay away from her.”
The man had discarded his neck cloth and shirt, so that he was now bare to the waist. The servant bent to remove the man’s black pumps, so that he soon stood clothed in nothing save his snow-white hose and black tight-fitting breeches. He might have twenty years or more on Thomas, but he certainly stripped to advantage, his shoulders broad, his arms neatly muscular. “Miss Balfour, you say, Sir Ralph?” Thomas asked, frowning. “I don’t understand. Is she betrothed?”
“What? What? Betrothed? Nonsense, man! Not allowed, don’t you know. Talk, dance, keep her occupied. But betrothed? Oh, I don’t think so. He wouldn’t like that above half.”
Sir Ralph’s dark eyes flashed with anger, but only for a moment—a moment anyone less observant than Thomas would have missed. “What Lord Mappleton here means, Mr. Donovan, is we are all rather fond of Miss Balfour—Lord Mappleton, Sir Peregrine, Lord Chorley, and myself—and we do not care to hear her name bandied about as you did last night. We may have dealings with you Americans, but we do not appreciate your boldly stated salacious attention to our young ladies of quality. Am I making myself clear, Mr. Donovan?”
“Salacious, Sir Ralph?” Thomas sliced a look toward the now empty ring and the man still standing outside it. If the fellow was going to eavesdrop, Thomas didn’t wish to disappoint him. “That may have been the case in the beginning,” he said in a clear voice, “and I truly regret my rash, ungentlemanly words—but my emotions are now thoroughly engaged. I’m sure Lord Mappleton understands, also being very fond of the ladies. Ah, but when we fall, we scamps, we fall hard. I plan to wed the young lady, if she’ll have me. So you can relax, Sir Ralph. My intentions are entirely honorable.”
Lord Mappleton, who had been in the process of sipping from his wineglass, began to choke and cough, as if the wine had found its way into his windpipe. “Me?” he blustered once he could find his breath. “Why would I understand that?”
Thomas pretended not to hear Lord Mappleton’s remark, just as he pretended not to notice that the man beside the ring had straightened his already stunningly erect posture. “I say, Sir Ralph,” he began enthusiastically, “I see the ring just behind you is no longer occupied, although there is a gentleman standing there, apparently without an opponent. I realize I’m not a member, but do you suppose, now that our business is concluded, could I presume—I mean, not that I’ve ever done more than engage in the random alleyway brawl after a night of drinking—but would it be possible...?” He allowed his voice to trail off as he raised his hands, palms up, as if unable to find the correct words to describe the “science” of boxing.
Sir Ralph turned to glance behind him, and then looked back to Thomas and inclined his head in the affirmative. “Say no more, Mr. Donovan. After all, you’re my guest here today. Excuse me, and I’ll see if the Earl of Laleham is agreeable. Although I must warn you, you have picked a most worthy adversary. The earl is known for his expertise, which is why he so seldom has a partner, save Jackson himself.”
Thomas nodded, then looked to Lord Mappleton, who alternately frowned and smiled, as if not sure how he should react now that Sir Ralph was not there to guide him.
“Mr. Donovan? William Renfrew, Earl of Laleham,” the silver-winged gentleman said a few moments later, extending his right hand as if extraordinarily pleased to meet Thomas. “Sir Ralph here tells me you’ve expressed an interest in sparring.”
Thomas refused to wince as the earl’s firm handclasp threatened to grind his bones into dust and only inclined his head politely. They were much of a height, he and the earl and, if anything, the earl’s shoulders were broader. “Your lordship,” he returned affably. “But I must warn you—I am not well versed in the rules.”
“I believe we’ll manage, sir,” Lord Laleham said, finally releasing Thomas’s hand, “and I promise to begin slowly, so that I do not overpower you. Do you have someone who will assist you, or shall I summon