Except this wasn’t about her.
Ned had paid a terrible disservice to the Logical Men’s Society when, in his eagerness to see his lectures a success, he had recruited these men. They had turned the high standards of the Society into rubbish. No one respected the group anymore, including Ned.
Well, he was going to correct his mistake and the only way to do it was to show Dawson and the others that he was stronger than Winderton in every way.
“Go home, Doctor,” the duke said. All benevolence had left his expression.
“Not until I accomplish what I came to do.”
“Pistols at dawn?” There was a sneer in the duke’s voice—although Ned doubted he’d ever dueled. At least the old Winderton, the one before he’d gone off to London who had been somewhat naïve and very earnest, would not have.
Ned named his terms. “No, bare fists. Right here. Right now.”
The others’ eyes widened. This was language they understood. Behind the duke, in the doorway, Ned noticed movement. The servants were listening.
Winderton frowned. His lips started to curve as if he was going to say no, until he seemed to realize what was at stake.
“Well?” Ned prodded.
“We shall.” Winderton acted surprised he was saying it. “Right here, right now. Are there rules?”
“Do we need them?”
“I suppose not.”
“Very well.” Ned walked back to his horse.
“Mr. Thurlowe,” Mrs. Estep pleaded, but he wasn’t interested in what she had to say. He removed his jacket and laid it on the saddle behind her.
He turned around—and that is when he realized that Winderton had followed him. The duke hit him hard right in the mouth. He fell back against Hippocrates, who was not happy.
“Right here, right now, eh?” the duke taunted.
Thankfully, the horse hadn’t budged far. He looked at Ned as if to say,Go on with it.
And so he did. The duke’s punch had caused him to bite his tongue. He could taste blood. He’d tasted it before. Ned had learned his fighting skills fending off bullies who would corner him in school. Boys knew no other way to sort out their differences, and he should have anticipated the duke’s attack because there had been no rules then, either.
However, the others, even Dawson, shouted their disapproval. They had some decency in them when they had to think for themselves.
Ned came back, ducking his head and barreling into Winderton, who was about his size. They were evenly matched. It also became apparent that Winderton had had his share of schoolroombrawls. Ned got in two good facers before the duke walloped him against the side of the head.
For what seemed like ages, they battled. Ned felt himself tire and yet the stakes were too high—especially for Mrs. Estep—to let Winderton win. The lads would make her life miserable.
And perhaps that is what gave him the advantage. Winderton was younger and actually stronger. However, Ned had purpose. He was also more cunning. He used his understanding of the human body to ensure his every blow was a powerful one.
Furthermore, he hadn’t been drinking all night, and eventually, that was what won him the day. But not before he took a beating.
Both of them were sweating heavily. Ned’s arms felt as if they weighed two stone. His knuckles hurt and he wasn’t certain he could go on until Winderton dropped to one knee.
“Enough,” he said.
Ned had never heard a better word spoken. He didn’t let down his guard. “And?” he prodded.
“No more chickens.”
“Or any other nonsense.”
Reluctantly, the duke nodded. “We were in our cups.”
