She wished to object further, but he jumped out of the coach. After speaking a word to Sykes, Sebastian quickly joined the hobble of bodies pressing in to watch the contest.
“My word,” murmured Mrs. Arundell, shaking her head. “I knew Edward enjoys a rousing match of boxing, but I would not have thought it of Sebastian. He has ever spoken against displays of brute strength.”
“Might he have gone to lay a wager?” suggested Frannie, who also believed Sebastian’s abhorrence of brawling to be too strong for him to have mere entertainment in mind. She reflected that although he did not enjoy the spectacle of a fight—indeed, he disapproved of it—he might nevertheless take advantage of an opportunity to multiply a crown or a pound. Gentlemen seemed prone to enjoy these opportunities. She tore her eyes from where he’d disappeared into the crowd to look at his mother. Mrs. Arundell’s pretty face was creased in concern. “Beau isn’t a betting man! What could have possessed him?”
Suddenly a roar from the crowd went up, followed by groans of disappointment and then raucous laughter. Sebastian emerged, leading Edward along by an ear. Edward, bleeding from the brow and lip, his fashionable hair gone flat, coat grasped in his hands, shirt sleeves rolled up, and his cravat and leather gloves nowhere in sight.
Mrs. Arundell gasped.
Frannie’s amazement was equal to the mother’s, for she recalled how vehemently Edward decried having anything more to do with street boxing. Mrs. Arundell swiftly produced a handkerchief from a reticule and motioned Frannie away from the window. As the men approached, they heard Edward. “You have no notion of what you’ve done!” he complained. “They’ll call me a white-livered milksop now! Not to mention you’ve lost me a fortune! I was on top of it. Ready to darken his daylights, sir!”
“You were getting thrashed. I merely saved you from further humiliation.”
“A man’s not beaten until he’s down! I was upon my feet! Saved me!” he grumbled, as a footman opened the vehicle’s door. “Ruined me, more like!”
As he stepped into the coach, Edward spied his mother and Frannie and froze, momentarily, in horror. Sebastian nudged him from behind. He finished his entrance, sitting down across from the women in sudden meekness. Spying his wounds, Mrs. Arundell cried, “Oh, my dear boy! Poor, poor Edward!” She rushed to his side to nurse him, dabbing her handkerchief across his brow and then his mouth tenderly. “Did you have a disagreement with someone, dearest?”
“Not at all, Mama,” he replied. “‘Twas merely a diversion, a contest of skill, winner take the prize. Gentlemen often compete in such sport.”
With his mother beside Edward, Sebastian had no choice but to sit beside Frannie. This put him directly in Edward’s line of sight, however, so that the injured young man cast belligerent eyes his way whenever he could see past his mother’s ministrations.
“You might have driven past and taken no notice. Leave it to you to distress my mother!” With a glance at Frannie he added, “And Miss Fanshawe. Boxing isn’t fit for ladies’ eyes.”
“Do you call that boxing?” Sebastian returned calmly. “Brawling like tomcats, more like.”
“Pugilism, sir! Have you forgot I took lessons on Bond Street with Jackson? He called me quite the fancy, if you must know!”
“Of course I know. I paid for those lessons and studied with him myself—strictly as an exercise for optimal health. But I didn’t afford you lessons to make you a street brawler. This was no sponsored fight with the Pugilistic Club. That sort of boxing is permissible, but for us, street fights are strictly for self-defence when or if the need arises.”
“A challenge was issued, sir! I had no choice but to accept, or where’s our family honour? And I employed Jackson’s scientific style.”
“I saw you scrapping—you butted your head at him. Did not Jackson instruct that a well-aimed fist was of more effect than all the brawn and bulk in the world?”
Edward’s armour cracked. “I did what the case needed. I have an exceedingly hard head.”
Mrs. Arundell clucked her tongue. “Not hard enough, my dear, to prevent injury!”
Sebastian said, “You realize where you might have ended up if we hadn’t chanced by? In city college, no doubt, for disturbing the peace. The magistrates frown upon these brawls.”
“Gaol? Good heavens!” cried Mrs. Arundell, looking to Sebastian. “Do you indeed think that likely? Edward, dearest, you must oblige me and promise never to engage in such a contest again!”
“Gaol’s for criminals,” he responded haughtily to his brother. “Boxing’s no