Page 50 of Snapdragons
“While I was salvaging your hair yesterday—”
“Best to not use the wordsalvaging,” Digby said. “You make him sound like a castle ruin or a shipwreck.”
Wilson shrugged the tiniest bit, holding his hands up and lifting his eyebrows. The message was clear: he felt his word choice was quite accurate even when explained the way Digby had just done.
That set the Gents laughing again.
“I overheard you saying that you could have the estate you want if you could gather a bit more money.” Wilson looked to Digby once more. “I know I’m supposed to pretend I couldn’t hear any of the things that were being said, no matter that I was standing among all of you.”
“Well, youaresupposed to pretend you don’t hear anything,” Digby conceded.
“Leave Wilson be, Your Majesty,” Lucas said, eyes on his letter but apparently also following the conversation being had nearby. “I like having a valet with the skills of a spy.”
Wilson beamed with unmistakable pride. He continued addressing Niles. “I thought you might like to know that the fair in Hamblestead will include a pugilistic tournament. All the gentlemen in and around the village are planning to wager onthe various matches. Might be a chance to gain a bit of those funds you’re looking for.”
That set the Gents to discussing what they knew of the fair, which pugilists were likely to come to Hamblestead to participate. None of them was an inveterate gambler, but neither was any of them morally opposed to the occasional, reasonable wager. What constituted “reasonable” varied among them, according to their circumstances, and they all made a point of never pressing each other toward uncomfortable forfeits.
But Niles was intrigued by something other than the unavoidably risky gambler’s method of lining one’s pockets.
To Wilson, he asked, “Did you happen to overhear what the purse for the tournament will be?”
“The winner will receive £150. The one who loses the final match will win £50.”
That was an enormous purse for so small a village. A fighter of significance must have been expected to attend. Or hoped for, at least. That £150 would give Niles what he lacked to purchase the property in Essex he had his eye on.
Wilson took his leave, and Aldric stepped up beside Niles. The other Gents were in conversation with each other, except for Lucas, who had given his full attention to the letter he had received.
“You’re thinking of fighting?” Aldric seemed to already know the answer.
“The idea is crossing my mind.” Lud, was he truly considering this?
“Talk it through,” Aldric said. They’d taken this approach for years: Niles spilling his often jumbled thoughts, and Aldric helping him make sense of it all.
“The Green Badger is clearly expecting someone significant, else the purse wouldn’t be so large.” Niles rubbed at his tense neck as he spoke. “That makes fighting riskier.”
“When was the last time you pugilated?”
Too long.“I spar when I’m in London.”
Aldric shook his head. “I mean an actual bout. You know better than any of us that sparring and fighting are different things.”
“I’ll confess, it’s been some time. But if there’s even a chance of winning...” His voice trailed off. Claiming a £150 purse would change everything. He would have his property. He could return to his family without fear of being forced into a future that would steal that hope from him. He would have independence and the ability to pursue the dreams he had. “Even if I can make it to the final round and lose, I’d come away with £50, which will cut more than a year off the time I need to get my property. More than a year.”
Aldric watched him intently but made no further arguments.
This was a decidedly unexpected turn of events. And the path ahead was strewn with risk.
“If I don’t at least try,” Niles said as much to himself as to Aldric, “I think I’ll regret it.”
Aldric didn’t hesitate nor try to dissuade him. Instead, he addressed the group. “Gents, dust off your fists. Niles has a tournament to prepare for.”
Chapter Seventeen
Violet and Nicolette were inthe sitting room, chatting amiably.
“May I join you?” Penelope asked from the doorway.
She was invited to do so and took a seat among them. Not one of the Gents was present. “Do you worry that the Gents are up to mischief when they are nowhere to be found?”
