Page 42 of The Best-Kept Secrets
“This is better than Gentleman Jackson’s.” Newton looked around with that evaluating gaze he’d developed long before beginning his law studies but that they all knew would serve him well in his chosen profession.
“I’d make certain to tell Jackson I’d bested him in this if I didn’t prefer he not know about it.” Uncle Niles opened a cupboard, inside of which were strips of fabric for wrapping knuckles, towels for wiping away sweat, even trousers for changing into to prevent one’s regular clothing from becoming torn or stained.
He opened another cupboard and pulled two buckets from it, setting them on a longboard along the near wall. He then set beside them a basket containing bits of chalk in varying lengths.
“The buckets are for water,” Colm explained. “There’s a well in the back to draw from.”
“And the chalk?” Fennel asked.
“Marking the ring on the floor.”
“We’re fighting each other?” Was Fennel excited about that or not? It was difficult to tell.
“A little sparring if anyone would like,” Colm said. “But there are plenty of hanging sacks of hay or cotton to pummel if you’d rather. And we can take turns holding up hand cushions for each other to hit. Anything you could possibly hope for in a boxing salon.”
“This is brilliant,” Tobias said.
The Pack began perusing the cupboards, looking at the newspaper clippings in Uncle Niles’s memento book, talking excitedly about how often they planned to retreat here during the house party.
To his uncle, Duke said, “Thank you for this.”
“You’re welcome.” Then, with an ill-concealed laugh, he added, “Just make certain they know the rules.”
Ah. “Pack,” he called out, getting their attention. “My uncle has reminded me of the need to inform you of a few requirements for using Penfield. They are very important, so listen closely.” They watched with rapt attention. “The first: No one tells the Huntresses.” Nods of agreement filled the room. “The second:Absolutelyno one tells my parents or my grandmother.”
“That was never going to happen,” Charlie said with wide-eyed emphasis.
“And the last: no obvious pugilistic injuries. Not all of you are good liars, and the jig would be up instantly.”
Scott laughed. “In other words, we’ve all been sworn to utmost secrecy, encompassing not merely our words but our very appearances.”
Duke nodded solemnly. “No boxer’s blow could ever land with the stinging ferocity of a lady’s look of disapproval.”
With avid agreement to that sentiment, the Pack began choosing what they meant to do during this visit to Penfield.
Tobias pointed to a page in the book of mementos. “This is Martin, the Bath Butcher.”
“It is,” Uncle Niles said.
“Did you ever see him fight?” Tobias sounded amazed at the possibilities.
“I did.”
“Was he as good as legend says?”
Uncle Niles nodded. “He was a fierce fighter.”
“Did you see a lot of the legends of that time?”
“Most of them, I daresay.”
“Mendoza?” Tobias asked.
Uncle Niles nodded.
“Humphries? Harry the Coalheaver?”
Another nod.
