Page 80 of Leap of Faith
They arrived at Cheatham’s, Dominic’s ire settled somewhat by the fact that Sir Julian had already been exposed. It did not mean that he did not wish to beat him to a pulp. He flexed his fingers in anticipation.
Cheatham’s was a gaming hell known for deep—and often dirty—play, which was where those not welcomed or without deep enough pockets for Watier’s went to satiate their need. It occupied the ground floor of Chuffy Cheatham’s town house in St. James’s.
The room was a fog of smoke and darkness when they entered, and it took a moment for Dominic’s eyes to adjust. The sound of clicking dice, along with that of shuffling cards, mixed with the dull murmur of conversation and the odour of smoke and spirits. A crowd was gathered in one corner, and Dominic spotted his brother’s fair hair above the gathering. He tapped Rotham’s sleeve and inclined his head towards Ashley.
As Dominic and Rotham approached, the sea of onlookers parted slowly when they realized who had arrived. Those on the edge strained closer to hear. Dominic had little doubt bets had already been exchanged on the outcome. He wished this could occur in private, but he was not about to let the weasel escape again, and frankly, it would do to have witnesses. Sir Julian was looking like a fox cornered by a pack of hounds, guarded by Ashley and his friends. He was exactly as he’d imagined him: cowering like the coward he was. The room became eerily silent as they awaited the confrontation.
“This is unexpected.” Sir Julian’s voice cracked.
“Indeed? This is precisely what I expected of you,” Dominic drawled. “I would call you out, but that honour is reserved for those who hold claim to the name gentleman.”
A low murmur greeted this proclamation.
“I have no intention of fighting you, Westwood. It would imply that I have done something wrong.”
“Attempting to ruin innocents is hardly right. Especially for the sake of a wager,” Dominic countered.
“I was trying to salvage her reputation.”
“By instigating a wager meant solely to ruin her? By lying about having compromised her? By putting a false announcement in the papers? By waving about a false marriage certificate? I will have satisfaction here and now. You will answer for this.” Dominic removed his jacket and waistcoat, untied his neckcloth, and rolled up his shirtsleeves with deliberate slowness while Sir Julian stood and watched.
“The wager was not about ruining her,” his shaking voice said as he watched Dominic strip.
Dominic stepped closer as the crowd parted to watch the fight. Sir Julian attempted to withdraw but was met by the wall.
“Pray tell, then. What was it about?”
Sir Julian smirked. “Telling would compromise the wager, but I have not yet lost.”
“That is a pity. However, I am still going to enjoy destroying you on behalf of the lady’s honour. You can stand up and fight or remain in the corner like a coward. It makes little difference to me.”
The crowd began to egg on Sir Julian. Dominic saw the moment he realized he had no choice but to fight or be labelled a coward. He was a man-milliner with falsely padded shoulders and buckram wadding and was very likely debating what was worse: to strip or ruin his coat, Dominic thought acidly.
“If you wish to fight, we should do it properly with an arranged time and place with seconds.” He tried to delay matters. The crowd did not approve. They began to jeer and taunt him.
“No.” Dominic cracked his knuckles and took a fighter’s stance, though he knew it would hardly be a fight.
“Very well.” He stood forward like a martyr. “You will pay for this later. Ruining a lady is only the beginning.”
“You are a coward,” Dominic growled as blind rage overtook his body. Whatever concessions to a fair fight he had intended to make disintegrated. He slammed Sir Julian up against the wall, then he brought his arm back and slammed his fist into the blackguard’s jaw.
Shouts of approval roared in the background, but Dominic did not register any of it. He punched with a bent elbow into Sir Julian’s stomach, eliciting a groan from his opponent.
“Westwood.” Rotham’s voice registered faintly. “The cur isn’t fighting back.”
Dominic let out a curse and stepped back.
“I am not sure he can,” Rotham amended.
Sir Julian was slumped over, holding his side. Dominic shook his head. “Unbelievable.” He stepped forward and hauled Sir Julian up by his coat. The man winced. “Do not for a moment believe this is over. I will make certain you are never welcomed anywhere but Hell ever again.”
“We will see about that,” he responded weakly.
“You do not know when to fold, do you?” Dominic slammed another fist into his face then dropped him as he slid to the floor. He did not look back to see if the scoundrel was conscious, but he stopped in front of one of his friends. “See that he leaves the country, or I will not show restraint next time.”
CHAPTER19
The next morning, Faith awoke feeling that somehow things had changed between Lord Westwood and herself. Yet she had been warned so many times about how he was a hardened flirt and determined bachelor that she did not want to delude herself and become one of his victims.
