married him according to plan, the whole debacle he’d found himself in over the last week would never have happened. Yes, he had a score to settle with Colton, actually, and today was the perfect day to settle it.
“By all means,” Thad said, stepping back and ushering the two men farther into his club. “Let’s fight.”
* * *
Lord Colton, it turned out, was good. Almost too good. Certainly the best Thad had come across. And if Ashbourne were his equal, he wouldn’t want to come across the two of them in a darkalley with a score to settle. Thad had started out a bit overconfident. Colton had about seven years in age on him, after all. Thad expected to be much more spry than the older man, but it became obvious after an hour and a half of sweaty, bloody fisticuffs that neither man was going to go down easily.
“I’m impressed, lad,” Ashbourne called from his spot along the sidelines. Every man in the club had stopped what he was doing and come to watch, and now bets were readily being placed. Thad’s factotum stood in full finery at the head of the nearby podium, serving as banker, calling bets, and narrating the fight. Normally, Thad played for fun and sport only, but today, today it had turned into a moneymaker. Some of the men were even pulling others in off the street to watch the bout.
“Well-played, lad,” Colton said, wiping a splash of blood from his brow. “I’m impressed, actually.”
“I’m impressed as well,” Thad replied with as cocky a grin as he could muster. “You fight well for an old man.”
Colton’s brow arched. “Old? Really?”
That, apparently, made Colton even more determined to win. They circled each other. Sweat and blood ran down their faces and naked backs. Thad struggled to keep his strength. A jab from Colton. A blow to his face. A returning jab. A returning blow. They eyed each other warily but with a definite respect for the other’s skill.
This match would not be quick.
An hour later, Colton delivered the final blow. Thad fell to the floor, spitting out blood. Then he rolled over and stared up at his opponent. “I give. Name your forfeit.”
Devon spat blood on the floor himself. Breathing heavily, he said, “It’s about time, lad. I thought we’d be here all bloody night.”
Thad rolled to his feet and braced his swollen, bloody hands against his knees. He was still struggling to catch his breath. “The forfeit, if you please.”
“It’s quite simple,” Colton replied. “You must ask the woman you love to marry you.”
Thad’s eyes went wide. Surely, he’d misheard the marquis. He stood up straight and placed a hand behind his ear. “What did you just say?”
Colton regarded his own swollen, bleeding knuckles. “You must ask the woman you love to marry you, lad. Quickly, if you please.”
The banker tossed a towel to each of the opponents and Thad wiped his across his brow. “Damn you, Colton. What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
Colton patted his face with the towel. “Are you or are you not in love with a certain young lady?”
Thad snapped his towel and hung it around his neck. He threw a hand in the air. “This is ridiculous. What sort of forfeit is this?”
Colton sighed. “I cannot help it. My lovely wife asked me to choose this forfeit and it turns out I’m a slave to her.”
Tugging on the ends of the towel, Thad stared at him through narrowed eyes. “I thinkyou’ve gone mad in your old age, Colton.”
“Agreed,” Jordan Holloway called from across the floor.
With a grin on his face, Colton hung a sweaty arm around Thad’s neck. “You’d do well to take some advice from an old man like me, lad.”
Thad turned his head, eyes still narrowed. “I’m listening.”
“Life is short,” Colton replied. “Don’t ever let go of anything…or anyone you really want.”
CHAPTER 18
Amelia sat in Lily Morgan’s drawing room wringing her hands. She was nervous. Nervous and frightened. Lily had informed her
“By all means,” Thad said, stepping back and ushering the two men farther into his club. “Let’s fight.”
* * *
Lord Colton, it turned out, was good. Almost too good. Certainly the best Thad had come across. And if Ashbourne were his equal, he wouldn’t want to come across the two of them in a darkalley with a score to settle. Thad had started out a bit overconfident. Colton had about seven years in age on him, after all. Thad expected to be much more spry than the older man, but it became obvious after an hour and a half of sweaty, bloody fisticuffs that neither man was going to go down easily.
“I’m impressed, lad,” Ashbourne called from his spot along the sidelines. Every man in the club had stopped what he was doing and come to watch, and now bets were readily being placed. Thad’s factotum stood in full finery at the head of the nearby podium, serving as banker, calling bets, and narrating the fight. Normally, Thad played for fun and sport only, but today, today it had turned into a moneymaker. Some of the men were even pulling others in off the street to watch the bout.
“Well-played, lad,” Colton said, wiping a splash of blood from his brow. “I’m impressed, actually.”
“I’m impressed as well,” Thad replied with as cocky a grin as he could muster. “You fight well for an old man.”
Colton’s brow arched. “Old? Really?”
That, apparently, made Colton even more determined to win. They circled each other. Sweat and blood ran down their faces and naked backs. Thad struggled to keep his strength. A jab from Colton. A blow to his face. A returning jab. A returning blow. They eyed each other warily but with a definite respect for the other’s skill.
This match would not be quick.
An hour later, Colton delivered the final blow. Thad fell to the floor, spitting out blood. Then he rolled over and stared up at his opponent. “I give. Name your forfeit.”
Devon spat blood on the floor himself. Breathing heavily, he said, “It’s about time, lad. I thought we’d be here all bloody night.”
Thad rolled to his feet and braced his swollen, bloody hands against his knees. He was still struggling to catch his breath. “The forfeit, if you please.”
“It’s quite simple,” Colton replied. “You must ask the woman you love to marry you.”
Thad’s eyes went wide. Surely, he’d misheard the marquis. He stood up straight and placed a hand behind his ear. “What did you just say?”
Colton regarded his own swollen, bleeding knuckles. “You must ask the woman you love to marry you, lad. Quickly, if you please.”
The banker tossed a towel to each of the opponents and Thad wiped his across his brow. “Damn you, Colton. What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
Colton patted his face with the towel. “Are you or are you not in love with a certain young lady?”
Thad snapped his towel and hung it around his neck. He threw a hand in the air. “This is ridiculous. What sort of forfeit is this?”
Colton sighed. “I cannot help it. My lovely wife asked me to choose this forfeit and it turns out I’m a slave to her.”
Tugging on the ends of the towel, Thad stared at him through narrowed eyes. “I thinkyou’ve gone mad in your old age, Colton.”
“Agreed,” Jordan Holloway called from across the floor.
With a grin on his face, Colton hung a sweaty arm around Thad’s neck. “You’d do well to take some advice from an old man like me, lad.”
Thad turned his head, eyes still narrowed. “I’m listening.”
“Life is short,” Colton replied. “Don’t ever let go of anything…or anyone you really want.”
CHAPTER 18
Amelia sat in Lily Morgan’s drawing room wringing her hands. She was nervous. Nervous and frightened. Lily had informed her
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