Page 12

“I assume from your reaction that the feeling is not mutual?”

Emma sighed. “My parents think I should because he is the most eligible man in the village, but…”

“You mentioned something about what happened when you were young?”

“Aye, he teased me, ye know, as boys dae tae girls. Still, it’s nae something I can easily forget, and he doesnae seem tae think it matters at all.”

“I can see why that would be troubling for you,” Trevor said.

“Aye, and I dinnae think I should marry someone just because they’re the only suitable man in the village. I want tae marry a man I love. Are ye married, Mr. Whitehall?”

“Please, call me Trevor. I’ve never gotten used to people addressing me by my usual title. As for your question, no, I’m not married. Work has taken up much of my time, and I suppose I have not gotten around to it yet.”

“It must be nice tae be a man and hae this freedom. When ye are a lass, ye start hearing talk of marriage as soon as ye become older, and it hangs over ye like a storm cloud. Everywhere ye gae, there are people asking if ye hae an engagement or offering their sons or wondering why there haes been no news. It’s enough tae make a girl crazy.”

“I can imagine it would. I don’t envy you,” Trevor said.

They came to a gate, and Emma unfastened the lock. The grass was soft, and in the distance, Trevor could see a large building framed in moonlight. It did not take them long to reach the barn. The smell of hay greeted him. There were rakes and scythes and other tools leaning against the wall while a bed of hay awaited him.

“What’s it like being sae far away from home? Didnae anyone try and stop ye from leaving?”

“Well…actually, my uncle did, but not because he was going to miss me. He thought there were more…profitable things I could be doing with my time in London. I was free to dismiss his advice, though.”

“Dae ye miss home?”

Trevor tilted his head from side to side. “I suppose there are parts of London that I miss, but I quite like being in this other country and being able to see new places. It will make me appreciate London all the more when I return, I suppose.”

Emma nodded and wore a thoughtful look. “I hae thought of leaving the village on occasion, but I could nae bear tae leave my parents. I’m their only child, and I dinnae know what they would dae without me.”

“I suppose that is the burden all children must bear,” Trevor said, feeling a knot of tension twist in the pit of his stomach. “Speaking of your parents, I assume you are going to tell them that I’m here? I’d hate to be chased away by your father if he thought I was stealing the comfort of his barn.”

“Ye will be safe, I’ll make sure of it,” Emma said, and pointed him to a well he could use if he were thirsty.

They bid each other goodnight, and Trevor watched her pleasing form fade into the darkness. She was a most uncommon woman, yet thinking about his past made him uneasy. He arranged the hay into a comfortable bed and settled into the warmth, but as he closed his eyes, he was unable to stop his mind from wandering to places that were best left forgotten.

“Come on now, Trevor, this is what I’ve trained you for. You can do this. I wouldn’t tell you to do this if I didn’t think you could win, would I?”

Trevor looked up at his father. His body was lean, his face unshaven, his body yet to be blemished with scars.

“I’m just not sure, Father. There must be another way to earn money,” Trevor said.

“There is no other way,” his father hissed. Black eyes and yellowed teeth stared at him. A claw shot out and gripped Trevor’s shoulder. The man stank of alcohol and a special medicine he said helped him with his pain. His leg was crippled, and he was no good to anyone, so he had trained his son in the only art he knew: the art of fighting. “Now, this man thinks he already has you beat. When he looks at you, he sees nothing but a lad. But you’re more than that, aren’t you? What are you?”

“I’ma fighter,” Trevor said after a moment’s pause. His voice was filled with hesitation, which was not to his father’s liking.

“What are you?”

“A fighter,” Trevor said, this time with more conviction.

His father smiled a toothy smile and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Good, good. Just remember everything I’ve taught you, and you’ll be fine. He might be stronger than you, but he’s also arrogant. You can cut him down before he even realizes what’s happened, and then you’ll see just what a fighter can do.”

Trevor still had misgivings in his heart, but he nodded because he had faith in his father.

He walked out to the pit underneath the bar where people stared at him and hollered at him and told him he didn’t belong here. They called him the baby. Trevor looked across at the man who stood opposite him, a man with leathery skin that was covered in patterns of ink. He drew a thumb across his throat and snarled. The fight began, and Trevor tried to remember what his father had taught him, but training and fighting were two different things. The impact of the punches sent him reeling. Pain flared, and the sensations were dizzying. The jeers of the crowd were distant, and at the same time, they echoed in his mind.

A fist crashed into his chin, and he felt his teeth rattle. The world spun, and suddenly, everything was upside down. The breath was driven from his lungs as he landed flat on his back. Never before had he realized that the ground was so hard. His head lolled to the side. Through blurred vision he saw his father yelling at him, berating him, ordering him to rise. Spittle flew from the man’s mouth.

Trevor pushed himself up in time to see his opponent coming toward him, ready to finish the fight. A knee was thrust into Trevor’s face, but he raised his hands to block it. He caught the man’s leg and surged upward, using his own momentum to unbalance the man. Now Trevor was the one standing over his fallen enemy. He sank down, and his fists were like hammers, pummeling his enemy swiftly. His opponent raised his fists to try and block the blows, but Trevor was rampant. His arms formed a blur, and he could feel the bone cracking underneath his fists, but he didn’t stop because his father had told him never to stop until the fight was over.

Trevor was panting when he was pulled away. Sweat glistened all over his body. His knuckles were calloused and covered in blood, although he knew it was not his own. The other man was dazed, wearing a crimson mask, his nose sinking into his face. Trevor was pulled back to his father and embraced.

“I’m proud of you, Son! I knew you could do it.”

The crowd was shocked at the upset, and many of them vowed never to bet against this young man again. As Trevor was congratulated, a wad of notes was thrust into his hand. He was richer than he had ever been before, and all he had to do was fight.

At the time, it seemed like the simplest thing in the world.