Page 112 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
Spencer flashed a cold smile that felt wrong on his face and stepped into the ring. The blood of the last opponent had not even been cleaned away.
He thought of bloodied knuckles and Anna’s hollow, unseeing eyes, and lifted his fists.
“I do not recall so much speaking in this place,” he answered, circling his opponent.
The man was already bouncing on his feet, laughing, and then he swung.
In Spencer’s mind, it was not his opponent. It was his father. The final fight he never got to have.
Spencer laughed, the sound hollow and bitter, as he let the man punch him. His father’s laughter echoed in his ears.
A mere scratch.
My weak, worthless son.
If you are not man enough to take a silly punch, you are not worthy of my dukedom.
Get that wretch of a sister of yours, Spencer, or face her punishment.
No woman will want you, Spencer, if she knows how weak you will grow up to be.
Do you really think you can save Anna? You can save nobody. You will never save anybody. You cannot even save yourself.
The cruel words, paired with the blows, had him staggering backward until he hit the boxing ring’s post. He was promptly shoved back toward his opponent by an onlooker with a shout ofHit back! Hit back!
He stumbled into the other man with a mumbled apology, forgetting himself for a moment. He was laughing, delirious, as blood trickled into his eye. Somehow, he felt grounded. Something was finally right… in the most wrong of ways.
I hate this.I hate chasing this feeling.
Another punch had him falling to his knees.
Get up, Spencer.
A kick to his ribs.
Get up, you worthless son.
Worthless.
Weak.
His eyes closed. He saw his father swing a cane at him—that awful cane that had hurt worse than fists and had cut his back and shoulders far too many times.
He thought about how he and Eleanor had matching scars from canes and whips—wounds from people who should have guided them yet failed them. He thought about how they had both shouldered hurt, and how he should be at her side.
How he ought to be holding her.
Spencer groaned as another blow landed on his side.
Eleanor.
He wanted to be beaten until her name was wiped from his mind.
Eleanor.
He grunted through the pain.
Eleanor, Eleanor, Eleanor?—
