Page 29 of The Beauty and the Boxer
The corner of Meredith’s mouth pulled up ina half smile.
“The fabric I ordered for my new gowns won’tbe ready for two months, so Sarah gave me a few of her ballgowns tohave altered. They’ll be delivered in a few days I suppose.”
“Oh,” he said. “Then I guess we shall returnyou home.”
Meredith nodded tentatively, falling intostep beside him. They walked down the crowded streets, headingtowards the west of town. Jack kept to the left of Meredith so thathe could walk the horse, but remain on the side of the road. Itwasn’t the best option as he had to often walk around parkedhackneys and stalled persons, but once they finally reached theoutskirts of town, where the trees replaced buildings, it waseasier to fall into a comfortable sort of pace.
Jack had kept quiet for most of their walk,unsure of exactly what to say to her. Since their last talk, hisfeelings had grown complex. He wanted to know all her secrets andwhy he felt so drawn to her. Was it because she was so kind? Kinderthan any one person he ever met, or was it because he was soattracted to her? That didn’t make very much sense either as henever found women like Meredith attractive.
Jack had often surrounded himself with womenof different virtue. Professional women, women who were unafraid oftheir wants and desires. But this buttoned-up governess, with herugly dresses and plain hair styles seemed to hack at another partof him. He wanted to take her hair out, to run his fingers throughit. He wanted to remove the layers of fabric from her and smell herskin.
He swallowed as they walked, trying to pushout thoughts of undressing her when she spoke.
“I didn’t know you still fought,” she said,as a soft wind came blowing down the road that had changed fromcobblestone to dirt.
“Excuse me?”
“At your club. Simon said that you wereboxing.”
“I was sparring,” he explained, his eyesgoing up to the sky. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds asanother gust of wind blew around them. Jack could smell a storm inthe air. “I help some of the younger fighters with their handplacement. Not to mention it helps keep me even.”
“Even?”
His mouth quirked.
“Yes. I tend to get into a poor mood if I’mkept inside an office too long. It’s good exercise and it helpsexpel pent up energy that I’ve seemed to acquire since retiringfrom fighting.”
They walked off the main road, following adirt path that led up a hill, with open fields of freshly cut hayto the right and a forest to the left. They had reached theproperty in a little over an hour.
“I don’t like fighting. I think it’sanimalistic.”
“Have you never hit someone before?” heasked, ignoring the appalled expression on her face. “I promiseyou, it’s quite cathartic.” When she didn’t answer, he pressed her.“Have you ever hit someone?”
“Once, a long time ago,” she admitted. “Iregretted it.”
“Who?”
“I will never tell youthat, Ipromise,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t like it and Ipromised never to let my emotions get away from me again.”
Jack smirked, wondering if she had perhapshit one of her sisters as a child.
“You’re not supposed to punch in anger, youknow. It’s best to keep emotions out of the ring, so you can focuson the task at hand. Otherwise, you leave yourself open to beinghit multiple times.”
“Doesn’t it hurt, though?” she asked as theyclimbed the steep hill. “To be attacked repeatedly, I mean.”
He shook his head.
“No. Or rather, if it does, it’s nice tofocus on something directly in front of me, rather than letting mymind wander as it does when I’m working.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head back, her face tothe sky. He watched her profile and felt his mouth go suddenly dry.She really was beautiful. “Is there not any other activity thatcould relieve you of your tension? One that didn’t involve beinghit?”
Jack tried not to laugh, but his voicesuddenly became mirthful.
“There is.” When she gazed back at him, theblush on her cheeks told him she knew what activity he spokeof.
“Still, I can’t imagine it would be verypleasant to be repeatedly punched,” she said. “The pain must settlein eventually.”
“I’m rarely hit,” he said, winking, but whenhe saw her eyes dip to his cheek, he was humbled. He put a fingerto his scar. “Well, sometimes the opponent is successful. Butreally, I should thank the three who put this here. It’s helped memore than it hasn’t, if you could believe.”
