Thinking of her husband somewhere deep in the pits of London, searching for her brother, had Bridget worrying intensely.Unable to sleep, she glanced anxiously at the Ormolu clock on the fireside mantle. The soft ticks sounded thunderous against the quiet night.
Where is he?
Is he okay?
Fidgeting in her bed, she sighed. “What is it about him that… affects me so?”
Suddenly, she heard the soft thump of boots down the corridor and checked the clock again—it was half past three in the night. Sitting up, she looked to the door and wondered, would it help to see him? Would he think it brazen and improper?
The other door opened, and she slid her legs out from the covers, then hesitated again. Five minutes passed before she worked up the courage to don her wrapper and leave the room. Two steps across the corridor and she found his door, dared herself to twist the knob, held her breath, and stepped in.
A dark form sat atop a small, single bed, one knee pulled up. Again, she paused.
“…You’ve made it this far,” William murmured. “Come closer.”
Relieved, she approached and sat at the foot of the bed, fingers coasting over the soft cotton. “This is not what I had expected. Why do you sleep in a cot?”
“To dissuade myself from returning to my old ways,” he muttered. “A large bed means two in it, or three.”
“Three?” She went red. “Meaning…”
“Yes,” he sighed. “Back in the day when I thought nothing of my life, such things were commonplace. I know better now. Life is fleeting, frail, with unexpected turns and twists. It’s not wise to live so… carelessly with your health.”
She peered upward through her lashes at him, all virile lines and masculine grace. He was so handsome that her heart ached.
“Penny for your thoughts, sweetling,” he said with a lazy smile.
Her fingers brushed the faded purpling bruise on his cheek. “You’re not like other lords, are you?”
William leaned into her touch. “No.” After a small pause, he continued, “…Do you want to know a secret?”
“Please.”
“The dukedom,” he nuzzled her palm. “I never cared for it. The thought of bearing such a great responsibility never appealed to me, not even from a young age. I am sure others would have loved the idea of price like rank, more money than Midas, and have women nipping at their heels, but not me.”
The feel of his bristles against her skin was oddly arousing, and the more he nuzzled, the more her blood heated. “And what didyouwant?”
“Something more… hands-on,” he replied in thought. “Quite literally. When I was nine, my father took us to his countryside Manchester home for a holiday, and there, I snuck away to a countryside fair. I saw two men in a prizefighting bout and crowds of people cheering them on.
“They were so… awe-inspiring, so powerful, so much in control of their destinies,” he murmured, lost in his past. “I drew parallels that made no sense at that age. I thought they showed me that a man can be the master of his life, that no one should have power over you. No man, no title.
“Minutes later, one of them sent the other flying out of the ring, he won on a knockout, and the women flung themselves at him,” William’s eyes took on a nostalgic haze. “Right then, I knew that was what Itrulywanted in this life. To be famed for the destinyIcarved out, not one handed to me on a silver platter. And so, I trained in secret. Pembroke was not jesting when he told you I was once a skinny wisp, but then I minded my meals, ran for hours, worked out in boxing salons…”
His voice trailed off, eyes closing. “Then, it was like one day, I just… woke up. My life had taken a sudden turn, I was losing money left and right, and I had to take some drastic measures to correct them…”
It was not hard to put two and two together for Bridget. “You… prizefight?”
“Hm,” he replied. “And I’m pretty good at it too. There’s a tournament going on and I am about to win it. A hundred thousand pounds. It’s a pittance compared to my inheritance, but this is money I earned fair and square, not tainted by ancient blood or war. Is it foolish of me to consider that money of greater value than what I will get passed down?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I think it is fair for one to take greater pleasure in things that they have earned over what was handed to them. Do youwantthe dukedom?” she asked.
His lids lowered. “I… do not know.”
Feeling that it was a sore spot for him, Bridget asked, “You went out looking for my brother, did you not? What did you find?”
Rubbing his eyes, he admitted, “Not much yet. Missing men who are up to their ears in debt have many places to hide. The first step is finding who they borrowed money from, and I know a moneylender who caters to anyone, so I went to see him first.”
“And then?”
