CHAPTER 1
Phineas Montague, sixth Earl of Delacourt, did not feel like himself. If he were honest, he hadn’t felt himself in a while, even when he was in places he enjoyed, such as the boxing club where he currently stood. He couldn’t place the reason for the discomfort. Perhaps it was because he’d recently parted ways with his mistress, though he hadn’t been particularly attached to Delia, nor she to him. It had ended well enough—she had even found another protector already.
Perhaps it was the recent death of his sister Marianne’s closest friend, Claudia. He hadn’t known her very well—she had been a quiet wallflower—but the sudden departure of one even younger than himself did put one’s mortality into a new light. And yet he’d never been especially fearful of death. He didn’t take wild risks, but he never kept himself from experiencing life for fear of consequences either. So that reason didn’t fit.
Perhaps it was turning thirty.Thathad happened a few months earlier. It seemed a momentous year in a man’s life. A time when expectations for marriage and the creation of heirs began to truly press on a man’s neck. He’d always known that time would come, yet he couldn’t seem to picture it now. When he thought of a future it felt so damned…blank. There was nowoman in his acquaintance that he felt he could easily settle down with. At least not and be happy with the arrangement. He didn’t expect love. Great God, no. Love was the fantasy of children and starry-eyed poets. Finn was too rational to expect such a fleeting, sometimes dangerous emotion. But he didn’t want to be miserable with his choice of wife, either, nor make her so.
He sighed and shook all the maudlin thoughts away. He hadn’t come to his boxing club to ponder, he’d come to forget all that. He’d come to work out some frustration with a clashing of fists. This was sometimes the only place he felt fully alive.
He moved to the back of the large room and began to strip out of his jacket, hanging it on one of the hooks provided. He was working on his cravat when two other gentlemen he knew stepped up a few feet away to do the same.
“—seems an utterly scandalous thing. It makes me want to quit this club entirely,” said one of them, a Mr. Smith.
Finn turned toward them. “What’s that?”
“You haven’t heard?” the other gentleman, Viscount Greenway, said. “Ripley has a great exhibition planned here for next week. Shocking, that’s what it is!”
Finn wrinkled his brow as he unwound his cravat. “We’ve had plenty of exhibitions here before. It’s always entertaining to watch the professionals work. I consider it a benefit of the club. What’s the problem?”
“This time it’sladieshe’s invited in to fight,” Greenway sneered.
Finn had been about to hang his cravat next to his jacket, but he froze now and turned to face Greenway and Smith full on. “I beg your pardon?”
“Exactly,” Smith wheezed in his excitement to condemn such a thing.
“Did you sayladiesboxing?”
All three men turned to see the fourth who had come to join the conversation and Finn smiled. It was his best friend—closer to a brother, truth be told—Sebastian, Earl of Ramsbury. They’d known each other since they were children and his wild friend was one of the people Finn cared about most.
“He did, indeed,” Finn said as he extended a hand to Ramsbury. “You’re late.”
Ramsbury laughed while they shook in greeting. “By five minutes, Mother, please do forgive.” As Finn laughed, Ramsbury turned his attention back to the others. “But this exhibition sounds most intriguing, despite your long faces.”
“I understand Ripley has ties to the world of underground boxing,” Greenway sputtered, his cheeks growing redder with every word.
“Which we benefit from regularly,” Finn said quietly as he cast a glance across the room to where Campbell Ripley stood in the ring. The owner of the establishment was stripped to the waist, shouting moves to two fops he was coaching. He was tall and broad, his nose crooked from his previous life as a champion fighter. Finn had never known the man to be anything but calm and steady, he made no decision lightly.
“Yes, yes,” Greenway continued to bluster. “But watching women fight? It’s low.”
“God forbid you drop down a level,” Ramsbury muttered with a side glance for Finn. “Do the women have names?”
“It’s Betty Lightly and the Hellion,” Smith said with a breathless quality that revealed his excitement at the idea was as great as his judgment. Typical.
“The Hellion,” Finn repeated with a low whistle. “Come now, these aren’t just alley fighters, stripping down to their skin to fight for their supper. She’s a champion, known to be very good.”
“She wears a mask, doesn’t she?” Ramsbury added with a smile. “It’s all very dramatic, I like it.”
Greenway let out a huff of frustrated breath. “Well, I supposeyouwould, Ramsbury. You’re known as a rake.”
“Proudly.” Ramsbury gave a cheeky bow. “Does that mean you two won’t be attending the exhibition?”
The other two men exchanged a look and Smith blustered for a moment. “Well, I…I mean, we’re members of the club and…”
“Ah,” Finn said with a grin for Ramsbury. “I see. Well, then we’ll all enjoy it together.”
The other two men huffed off, leaving Ramsbury alone with Finn. “When is this event that some will pretend to be offended by even as they place their wagers?” Ramsbury asked. “I came in late.”
“Next week, I think. We can speak to Ripley about it. He seems to be finished with his lesson.”
