Page 30 of The Beauty and the Boxer
“Oh, but that isn’t true,” she said quickly.“I mean to say, the scar on your face isn’t nearly as bad as peoplemade it out to be.” When Jack didn’t speak, she continued. “That’snot to say I’m sure it didn’t hurt when you received it.”
“It didn’t,” he said quietly. “When ithappened, I mean. I hardly felt it.”
“Truly?”
He nodded.
“It was the days that followed. Something Ilearned in my fighting years was that the hits never hurt quite asmuch as the healing.”
Meredith stared at him, seemingly amazedthat he could have taken such a poignant view.
“I believe you are correct. Jack.”
His name on her lips caused his stomach totighten. She smiled at him and for a moment he felt the sameridiculous pride he had when she had taken his arm.
“I was meant to lose you know,” he said, hiseyes focusing on the horizon. “The fight, that is. When I receivedthis scar.”
Meredith’s brow furrowed.
“You mean, you believed you were going tolose?”
The corner of his mouth pulled up as he sawher staring at him from the corner of his eye.
“No. I mean, I was supposed to throw it. Notwin, on purpose.”
He knew Meredith had never been to apugilist match and couldn’t make sense that he would want to loseon purpose. For a moment, a very small grain of guilt bubbledwithin him, but he pressed it down, knowing full well that had heplayed fair, he and Simon would still probably be fighting fortheir meals.
“But wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of thefight?” she asked. “Why would you want to lose?”
“Well, wanting something and needingsomething are two different things,” he said. “I wanted to win allmy fights. I had a solid record of it, too, but when you win allthe time, you become something of a guarantee.”
“Guarantee?”
“For bets. Prize fights had some cash prizesand I survived on it for a while, but it wasn’t enough to get whatI needed.”
“What did you need?”
“Enough money to buy that first mill,” hesaid, tilting his head to glance at her profile. “I’m sure Simon oryour sister explained about our Uncle Archer?”
“Briefly,” Meredith said. “Wasn’t he somesort of thief?”
“House burglar. A pretty famous one toboot,” he said with a hint of pride in his voice. Uncle Archer hadbeen his mama’s brother. He had been in the burglary business foryears by the time Jack had found him, after growing up in thenunnery. He had gleefully signed over his entire estate to Jack,knowing his time was coming to an end. Jack always assumed hisuncle had felt sorry for not being able to help his sister Tallyall those years ago, but he tried not to think about it. “Well, heleft us, my brother and I that is, a substantial amount of moneywhen he knew the hangman’s noose wasn’t far off.”
“How awful.”
“Don’t pity a man who would rob you,Meredith. And he would. He was fine at it, but more than anythinghe enjoyed it.”
“That’s terrible.”
“You don’t have any colorful characters inyour family tree?” he asked.
Meredith grew thoughtful, seemingly tryingto remember if she could recall a less than honorable relative.After a moment, she shook her head.
“I had a great uncle who fought in Waterlooon my mama’s side,” she said, her brow scrunched together in arather adorable way. “I’m afraid my family has always been ratherhonorable. For the most part.”
His eyes flickered to her face.
“For the most part?”
