When she arrived back at Clearview House around five, she went straight to Harlowe’s study to tell him all she had learned.
He leaned back in his chair, elbows on the armrests, his fingers steepled in such a way that his chin rested on their tips.“Boxing is an excellent way for men to expel excess energy or work through feelings of aggression.If he visited Reed’s today, there’s a chance he’ll return there either tomorrow or the day after.”
Attuned to his line of thinking, she tilted her head.“My showing up there, in a place intended exclusively for men, will surely raise his suspicion.”
“Your paths need to keep crossing somehow, yes?”When Samantha nodded, Harlowe said, “White’s is out of the question.So are the streets near his house.The park could be an option if he goes for regular rides.”
“My informant has made no mention of him having done so of late.”
“Then Reed’s might be your best bet at present.At any rate, you can give it a shot, and if he fails to show up, you can try something else.”
“There’s still the issue of explaining my presence there,” Samantha reminded him.“It’s a boxing club, not a sewing circle.”
Harlowe chuckled.When he sobered once more he said, “There have now been four murders with the same signature, indicating they’ve all been committed by the same man.Who, if I may remind you, has yet to be apprehended.With that taken into account, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“Of course.”Samantha gave him a wry smile.“I’ll take Hazel with me.”
The two women set off the following day after breakfast.Hazel was two years younger than Samantha and every bit as fierce as Harlowe’s other foster daughters.With fire-red hair and moss-green eyes, her appearance owed nothing to her name.
“Remember, we have no combat skills,” Samantha said as the carriage pulled up in front of their destination.“We’re not as strong as we actually are, or as quick on our feet.”
“We’re untrained women whose exercise has been limited to quiet strolls in the park and the occasional morning ride,” Hazel said with a grin.
“Precisely.”
They alit and entered the white brick building marked by a sign that read: Reed’s Boxing Club.Samantha led the way, cutting a path directly across the foyer and through a pair of steel framed glass doors that led to a large rectangular room.
She paused there for a moment to simply observe.Three fights were presently underway, though one appeared to be more of a training session.A few men looked on, perhaps in anticipation of it being their turn, while others practiced landing their blows against leather bags strung from various beams.
Samantha had practiced her punches on similar equipment.No doubt she’d feel comfortably at home in this place, besides actually having to pretend not to.
She took a step forward, only to halt once more when a man began shouting while storming toward her.Instinct compelled her to take a defensive position.She fought it, barely managing to make sure Hazel followed her lead, before he’d reached them.
Large, sweaty, and looking mighty annoyed, he stared them down with no small hint of disdain.“This place is off limits to women.”
“Is it?”Samantha asked, feigning innocence.She glanced over her shoulder.“I saw no sign on the door to suggest as much.”
“It being a boxing club should be indication enough,” he told her gruffly, crossing his arms and leaning forward in challenge.
The air seemed to still and Samantha became aware of the silence now filling the room.Were she to glance beyond the oaf blocking her path, she knew she’d find the rest of the club’s members staring.
She raised her chin and tightened her hold on the quilted bag she’d brought with her.It contained her reticule, a shawl, and the book she’d purchased yesterday afternoon.“I’ve come to speak with the owner.”
“Be that as it—”
“Mr.Reed?”she hollered.“A word, if you will?”
“What on earth is…” The words faded as a stocky man strode from a room to one side.He frowned at the oaf and then he frowned at her.“I won’t stand for any commotion.This club is for gentlemen only.”
“In that case,” Samantha muttered, “I’d recommend showing this fellow the door.”
The oaf’s face reddened.“How dare you?”
Samantha crossed her arms, rolled her eyes for the pure pleasure of vexing him further, and gave her attention to the man she believed to be the club’s owner.“Are you Mr.Reed?”
“That I am,” he said while assessing her appearance.“And you are?”
She smiled.The man was wise enough to avoid the risk of crossing a peer’s daughter.Not that she could claim such status.
