Page 12 of Wicked Rivals
“I am.” The driver jerked the reins up, and the black mare stomped and chomped her bit in irritation.
Jonathan climbed up into the cab beside the driver, and the vehicle rocked precariously.
“Where to?”
“Fives Court on St. Martin’s Lane in Leister Fields. You know it?”
The driver flashed him a grin and smacked the ribbons on his mare’s flanks. “I do.”
Jonathan then slipped into the hackney and it jolted forward.
By the time they’d reached Fives Court, the sounds of a wild crowd could be heard outside the old brick building that housed the boxing events. Nearly a thousand men could press into the building and surround the square sparring ring.
Jonathan hopped out of the cab and paid the driver before turning to face Fives Court.
“Three shillings!” a lad cried out at the entrance. “Just three shillings to watch the pets of fancy fight in the ring!”
Pets of fancy. Jonathan chuckled. Charles was no one’s pet and likely hated the nickname for the pugilists who fought there.
The little lad held out a grubby hand to him as Jonathan approached.
“There you are.” He tossed the boy his three shillings.
“Thank you, sir. The fight just started.”
“Oh? Who’s up now?”
“Some blond-haired bloke. Lonsdale, I think, and another man who I don’t know. He’s a bit of the home-brewed if you ask me.” The cheeky lad grinned.
“Lonsdale’s fighting someone with little training?” That was unexpected. Fives Court matches were supposed to be between men trained and approved by Gentleman Jackson, London’s finest boxer.
“He’s a milling cove all right, Jackson approved, but he cheats if you ask me,” the lad whispered conspiratorially.
“Well this should prove interesting indeed.” Jonathan slipped through the doorway and glanced around the interior of the high-ceilinged building. Dozens of men near him were hollering wildly as two men on a raised platform circled each other, gloved fists raised.
Charles stood bare-chested facing a man equal his height. Charles was well-toned, strong, and muscled, but his opponent was a massive beast, a real bruiser. There was a fair bit of blood on the other man’s chin, and Charles was dancing lightly on his feet and grinning like the devil himself. That wasn’t a good sign, at least for the other fellow.
“Knock his block off!” a high-pitched voice cried out ahead of him. It stuck out over the low-voiced shouts of the men around him. Jonathan began weaving through the crowds, shouldering his way to the front of the platform. At the edge of the ring two lads were waving and cheering Charles on.
“Draw his cork, my lord!” the second lad cried as Jonathan drew even with them at the edge of the ring.
The profile of the first young man was one he recognized instantly. Tom Linley, Charles’s servant and man-about-town, though barely old enough to be called a man. Jonathan had always felt something was off about him. He couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. The lad was…shifty, or perhaps simply secretive.
Secrets. The flashes of fear and defiance he had seen in the lad’s eyes in the past had been a warning Jonathan couldn’t ignore. There was something going on with Linley that puzzled Jonathan. But his loyalty to his master was equally evident now in the prideful expression he wore as he whooped and hollered.
“Give it to him, Charles!” The second lad’s voice was…higher. Too high. Jonathan leaned forward to peer around Linley’s face, and his heart pounded against his ribs. That darker-haired lad was no lad at all. The breeches he wore fit snugly around his…no…herfull, feminine buttocks.
“Audrey?”
The dark-haired boy froze and slowly turned his way.
It was Audrey. Audrey Sheridan, Cedric’s little sister and a notorious hellion. She was also the woman he was considering courting. There was certainly no taming that wild creature.
His possible future wife was wearing trousers, standing in a crowd of men who smelled like alcohol and was watching a boxing match at Fives Court.
Audrey’s mouth parted as she wet her lips. She hastily reached up to check her costume and tuck a few stray wisps of her hair back under her cap.
“Audrey,” he growled, stalking over to her. Linley finally noticed him.
