Page 57 of Marry in Secret
Thomas looked, but the group surrounding Jackson concealed him from view.
“Time to go,” Ollie said.
“What? But we just got here.”
“Come back another time. Too busy today. Don’t want to be late for dinner.” He tried to push Thomas toward the door.
“But it’s nowhere near time for din— Ahh.” Ollie’s sudden desire to leave became clear. Talking to Gentleman Jackson were Galbraith and the Earl of Ashendon.
Ashendon spotted Thomas at the same moment. He said something to Galbraith and stalked toward Thomas with a grim expression.
Ollie tugged at Thomas’s sleeve. “Come away, Thomas. I don’t like that look in his eye.”
Thomas shook him off. As far as he was concerned Ashendon always had that look in his eye. “Ashendon.” He greeted his brother-in-law coolly.
Ashendon’s eyes were chips of ice. “Come for a bit of aspar, eh, Beresford? I’ve just been trying to persuade Galbraith into going a few rounds with me, but he’s strangely reluctant. Perhaps—”
“We were just leaving,” Ollie said hastily.
Ashendon curled his lip. “Now why does that not surprise me? Not interested in a round or two, Beresford?”
“Not today,” Thomas said easily. He wasn’t going to fight, not with Rose’s brother. Too personal.
“Frightened of losing to me again? Third time’s the charm.” Ashendon was being a jackass, but if Thomas fought him, it would only worsen matters.
Thomas eyed him coldly. “You don’t want to fight me.”
“Oh, but I do.” Ashendon smiled, all white teeth and pseudo-cordiality. Scenting a challenge, several onlookers edged closer.
“If I fight you”—he raised his voice slightly—“I want it known that it’s not my preference. I don’t fight for pleasure.” And that was fair warning.
Ashendon’s smile was triumphant. “Here and now?”
He shrugged. “Here and now.” He didn’t know what was up Ashendon’s arse today, but the continuous, barely veiled hostility from the man was, he told himself, an attempt to protect Rose, and Thomas couldn’t fault the intention even if the methods were insulting.
Galbraith strolled up with Gentleman Jackson. “My sister-in-law’s husband, Jackson, Thomas Beresford, new to London.” The two men shook hands.
“Beresford has agreed to go a couple of rounds with me, Jackson,” Ashendon said. “What do you say? Will you referee?”
“A friendly bout, eh?”
“Veryfriendly,” Ashendon purred.
Jackson eyed Thomas shrewdly, his gaze dwelling on Thomas’s chest and shoulders. He nodded to Thomas. “Lord Ashendon has the advantage in weight, sir, but you’re much of a height, and I’d say you’d strip to advantage.” He turned to Ashendon. “I’d be happy to referee, my lord. Step this way, gentlemen.”
He directed a space to be cleared in the center of the room. He glanced at Thomas and pointed to a bench. “You can leave your things over there, sir.”
Ashendon, already half stripped, tugged off his shirt and undershirt, revealing a powerful chest and arms. He removed his boots and stockings, then strolled to the center of the room naked but for a pair of breeches.
As Thomas stripped off his coat, waistcoat and shirt, Ollie poured advice into his ear. “He’s a damned good fighter, light on his feet, but solid with it. Good science—he has a punishing right. A nasty left hook, too, so watch out for it.”
Thomas pulled off his boots and stood up in breeches and a sleeveless undershirt.
“Shirt and stockings,” Ollie prompted, holding out his hand and snapping his fingers.
“I’ll fight like this.”
Ollie frowned. “Can’t fight in stockings. You’ll slip.”
